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> 


A  SELECT  LIBRARY 


NICENE  AND  POST-NICENE  FATHERS 


THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


TRANSLATED  INTO  ENGLISH  WITH  PROLEGOMENA  AND  EXPLANATORY  NOTES. 


VOLUMES    I.-VII. 
UNDER   THE    EDITORIAL    SUPERVISION    OF 


PHILIP  SCHAFF,  D.D.,  LL.D., 

Professor  of  Church  History  in  the 
Union  Tlieological  Seminary,  New  York. 


HENRY  WACE,  D.D., 

Principal  of  King's  College, 
London. 


IN  CONNECTION  WITH  A    NUMBER   OF  PATRISTIC  SCHOLARS  OF  EUROPE 

AND   AMERICA.  /5  j 


VOLUME    XI. 

SULPITIUS   SEVERUS. 

VINCENT   OF   LERINS. 

JOHN   CASSIAN. 


•  S9 
itfo 

v,ll 


NEW   YORK: 

THE   CHRISTIAN    LITERATURE   COMPANY. 

OXFORD    AND    LONDON: 

PARKER  &  COMPANY. 

1894. 


Copyright,  1894, 
By  THE  CHRISTIAN  LITERATURE  COMrANY 


Press  of  J.  J.  Little   &  Co. 
Astor  Place,  New  York. 


CONTENTS   OF   VOLUME   XL 


SULPITIUS    SEVERUS.  Pace 
By  Alexander  Roberts,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Humanity,  St.  Andrews,  Scotland. 

Life i 

Life  of  St.  Martin 3 

Letters 18 

Dialogues 24 

Doubtful  Letters  55 

Sacred  History 71 

VINCENT  OF  LfiRINS. 

By  C.  A.  Heurtley,  D.D.,  Lady  Margaret's  Professor  of  Divinity  in  the  University 
of  Oxford  and  Canon  of  Christ  Church. 

Introduction 127 

a  commonitory 1 3 1 

Appendices 15  7-1 59 

JOHN   CASSIAN. 

By  Edgar  C.  S.  Gibson,  M.A.     Principal  of  the  Theological  College,  Wells,  Somerset. 

Prolegomena 183 

The  Twelve  Books  on  the  Institutes  of  the  Coenobia 201 

The  Conferences,  Part  I.  (i.-x.) 291 

The  Conferences,  Part  II.  (xi.-xvii.) 411 

The  Conferences,  Part  III.  (xviii.-xxiv.) 475 

The  Seven  Books  on  the  Incarnation  of  the  Lord,  Against  Nestorius  547 


0© 

— > 


THE  WORKS  of  SULPITIUS  SEVERUS. 


TRANSLATED, 


WITH  PREFACE,  AND  NOTES, 


REV.   ALEXANDER   ROBERTS,    D.  D., 

PROFESSOR  OF  HUMANITY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  ST.  ANDREWS,  SCOTLAND. 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  OF  SULPITIUS  SEVERUS. 


Sulpitius  (or  Sulpicius)  Severus  was  bom  in  Aquitania  about  a.d.  363,  and  died,  as  is  gener- 
ally supposed,  in  a.d.  420.  He  was  thus  a  contemporary  of  the  two  great  Fathers  of  the  Church, 
St.  Jerome  and  St.  Augustine.  The  former  refers  to  him  in  his  Commentary  on  the  36th  chapter 
of  Ezekiel  as  "  our  friend  Severus."  St.  Augustine,  again,  having  occasion  to  allude  to  him  in 
his  205th  letter,  describes  him  as  "a  man  excelling  in  learning  and  wisdom."  Sulpitius  belonged 
to  an  illustrious  family.  He  was  very  carefully  educated,  and  devoted  himself  in  his  early  years 
to  the  practice  of  oratory.  He  acquired  a  high  reputation  at  the  bar ;  but,  while  yet  in  the 
prime  of  life,  he  resolved  to  leave  it,  and  seek,  in  company  with  some  pious  friends,  contentment 
and  peace  in  a  life  of  retirement  and  religious  exercises.  The  immediate  occasion  of  this  resolu- 
tion was  the  premature  death  of  his  wife,  whom  he  had  married  at  an  early  age,  and  to  whom  he 
was  deeply  attached.  His  abandonment  of  the  pleasures  and  pursuits  of  the  world  took  place 
about  a.d.  392  ;  and,  notwithstanding  all  the  entreaties  and  expostulations  of  his  father,  he 
continued,  from  that  date  to  his  death,  to  lead  a  life  of  the  strictest  seclusion.  Becoming  a 
Presbyter  of  the  Church,  he  attached  himself  to  St.  Martin  of  Tours,  for  whom  he  ever  after- 
wards cherished  the  profoundest  admiration  and  affection,  and  whose  extraordinary  career  he  has 
traced  with  a  loving  pen  in  by  far  the  most  interesting  of  his  works. 

It  is  stated  by  some  ancient  writers  that  Sulpitius  ultimately  incurred  the  charge  of  heresy, 
having,  to  some  extent,  embraced  Pelagian  opinions.  And  there  have  not  been  wanting  those  in 
modern  times  who  thought  they  could  detect  traces  of  such  errors  in  his  works.  But  it  seems  to 
us  that  there  is  no  ground  for  any  such  conclusion.  Sulpitius  constantly  presents  himself  to  us 
as  a  most  strenuous  upholder  of  "  catholic  "  or  "  orthodox  "  doctrines.  It  is  evident  that  his 
whole  heart  was  engaged  in  the  love  and  maintenance  of  these  doctrines  :  he  counts  as  his 
"friends"  those  only  who  consistently  adhered  to  them;  and,  while  by  no  means  in  favor  of 
bitterly  prosecuting  or  severely  punishing  "heretics,"  he  shrunk  with  abhorrence  from  all  thought 
of  communion  with  them.  Perhaps  the  most  striking  impression  we  receive  from  a  perusal  of 
his  writings  is  his  sincerity.  We  may  often  feel  that  he  is  over-credulous  in  his  acceptance  of  the 
miraculous  ;  and  we  may  lament  his  narrowness  in  clinging  so  tenaciously  to  mere  ecclesiastical 
formulas  ;  but  we  are  always  impressed  with  the  genuineness  of  his  convictions,  and  with  his 
fervent  desire  to  bring  what  he  believed  to  be  truth  under  the  attention  of  his  readers. 

The  style  of  Sulpitius  is,  upon  the  whole,  marked  by  a  considerable  degree  of  classical  purity 
and  clearness.  He  has  been  called  "  the  Christian  Sallust,"  and  there  are  not  a  few  obvious 
resemblances  between  the  two  writers.  But  some  passages  occur  in  Sulpitius  which  are  almost, 
if  not  entirely,  unintelligible.  This  is  owing  partly  to  the  uncertainty  of  the  text,  and  partly  to 
the  use  of  terms  which  had  sprung  up  since  classical  times,  and  the  exact  import  of  which  it  is 
impossible  to  determine.  In  executing  our  version  of  this  author  (now  for  the  first  time,  we 
believe,  translated  into  English),  we  have  had  constantly  before  us  the  editions  of  Sigonius 
(1609),  of  Hornius  (1664),  of  Vorstius  (1709),  and  of  Halm  (1866).  We  have  also  consulted 
a  very  old  French  translation  of  the  Historic/,  Sacra,  published  at  Rouen  in  1580. 


2  LIFE   AND    WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 

The  order  in  which  we  have  arranged  the  writings  of  Sulpitius  is  as  follows  :  — 

i.  Life  of  St.  Martin. 

2.  Letters  (undoubted). 

3.  Dialogues. 

4.  Letters  (doubtful). 

5.  Sacred  History. 

By  far  the  most  attractive  of  these  works  are  those  bearing  on  the  life  and  achievements  of 
St.  Martin.  Sulpitius  delights  to  return  again  and  again  to  this  wonderful  man,  and  cannot  find 
language  sufficiently  strong  in  which  to  extol  his  merits.  Hence,  not  only  in  the  professed 
Life,  but  also  in  the  Letters  and  Dialogues,  we  have  him  brought  very  fully  before  us.  The 
reader  will  find  near  the  beginning  of  the  Vita  as  translated  by  us,  a  note  bearing  upon  the 
solemn  asseverations  of  Sulpitius  as  to  the  reality  of  the  miracles  which  Martin  performed. 

Most  of  the  Letters  here  given  are  deemed  spurious  by  Halm,  the  latest  editor  of  our  author. 
He  has,  nevertheless,  included  the  whole  of  them  in  his  edition,  and  we  have  thought  it  desirable 
to  follow  his  example  in  our  translation. 

The  Saered  History  of  Sulpitius  has  for  its  object  to  present  a  compendious  history  of  the 
world  from  the  Creation  down  to  the  year  a.d.  400.  The  first  and  longer  portion  of  the  work  is 
simply  an  abridgment  of  the  Scripture  narrative.  The  latter  part  is  more  interesting  and 
valuable,  as  it  deals  with  events  lying  outside  of  Scripture,  and  respecting  which  we  are  glad  to 
obtain  information  from  all  available  sources.  Unfortunately,  however,  Sulpitius  is  not  always 
a  trustworthy  authority.  His  inaccuracies  in  the  first  part  of  his  work  are  very  numerous,  and  will 
be  found  pointed  out  in  our  version. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  Estimates  which  have  been  formed  of  our  author. 

Paulinus,  a  contemporary  of  Sulpitius,  and  bishop  of  Nola,  addressed  to  him  about  fifty  letters, 
in  the  fifth  of  which  he  thus  writes  :  "  It  certainly  would  not  have  been  given  to  thee  to  draw 
up  an  account  of  Martin,  unless  by  a  pure  heart  thou  hadst  rendered  thy  mouth  worthy  of  uttering 
his  sacred  praises.  Thou  art  blessed,  therefore,  of  the  Lord,  inasmuch  as  thou  hast  been  able,  in 
worthy  style,  and  with  proper  feeling,  to  complete  the  history  of  so  great  a  priest,  and  so 
illustrious  a  confessor.  Blessed,  too,  is  he,  in  accordance  with  his  merits,  who  has  obtained  a 
historian  worthy  of  his  faith  and  of  his  life  ;  and  who  has  become  consecrated  to  the  Divine 
glory  by  his  own  virtues,  and  to  human  memory  by  thy  narrative  regarding  him." 

Gennadius  (died  a.d.  496),  in  his  "Catalogue  of  illustrious  men,"  says:  "The  Presbyter 
Severus,  whose  cogn'omen  was  Sulpitius,  belonged  to  the  province  of  Aquitania.  He  was  a  man 
distinguished  both  for  his  family  and  learning,  and  was  remarkable  for  his  love  of  poverty  and 
humility.  He  was  also  a  great  friend  of  some  holy  men,  such  as  Martin,  bishop  of  Tours,  and 
Paulinus,  bishop  of  Nola;  and  his  works  are  by  no  means  to  be  neglected." 

In  modern  times,  J.  J.  Scaliger  has  said  of  Sulpitius,  "He  is  the  purest  of  all  the  ecclesiastical 
writers."  And  Vossius,  referring  to  some  remarks  of  Baronius  on  Sulpitius,  says  :  "  I  differ 
from  him  (Baronius)  in  this,  that,  without  sufficient  care,  he  calls  Gennadius  the  contemporary  of 
Severus,  since  Gennatlius  flourished  seventy  years,  more  or  less,  after  Severus.  For  he  dedicated 
his  book  '  On  Faith '  (as  he  himself  tells  us)  to  Pope  Gelasius,  who  became  bishop  of  Rome  in 
a.d.  492.  But  he  greatly  extols  the  holiness  of  Sulpitius;  and  in  the  Roman  martyrology  his 
memory  (i.e.  of  Sulpitius)  is  celebrated  on  the  29th  of  January." 

Archdeacon  Farrar  has  recently  remarked  concerning  Martin  and  Sulpitius,  "  Owing  partly  to 
the  eloquent  and  facile  style  of  his  (Martin's)  biographer,  Sulpicius  Severus,  his  name  was  known 
from  Armenia  to  Egypt  more  widely  than  that  of  any  other  monk  or  bishop  of  his  day."  —  Lives 
of  the  Fathers,  i.  628. 


SULPITIUS  SEVERUS  ON  THE  LIFE  OF  ST.  MARTIN. 


PREFACE   TO   DESIDERIUS. 

Severus  to  his  dearest  brother  Desiderius 
sendeth  greeting.  I  had  determined,  my  like- 
minded  brother,  to  keep  private,  and  confine 
within  the  walls  of  my  own  house,  the  little  trea- 
tise which  I  had  written  concerning  the  life  of 
St.  Martin.  I  did  so,  as  I  am  not  gifted  with 
much  talent,  and  shrank  from  the  criticisms  of 
the  world,  lest  (as  I  think  will  be  the  case)  my 
somewhat  unpolished  style  should  displease  my 
readers,  and  I  should  be  deemed  highly  worthy 
of  general  reprehension  for  having  too  boldly 
laid  hold  of  a  subject  which  ought  to  have  been 
reserved  for  truly  eloquent  writers.  But  I  have 
not  been  able  to  refuse  your  request  again  and 
again  presented.  For  what  could  there  be  which 
I  would  not  grant  in  deference  to  your  love,  even 
at  the  expense  of  my  own  modesty?  However, 
I  have  submitted  the  work  to  you  on  the  sure 
understanding  that  you  will  reveal  it  to  no  other, 
having  received  your  promise  to  that  effect. 
Nevertheless,  I  have  my  fears  that  you  will  be- 
come the  means  of  its  publication  to  the  world ; 
and  I  well  know  that,  once  issued,  it  can  never 1 
be  recalled.  If  this  shall  happen,  and  you  come 
to  know  that  it  is  read  by  some  others,  you  will, 
I  trust,  kindly  ask  the  readers  to  attend  to  the 
facts  related,  rather  than  the  language  in  which 
they  are  set  forth.  You  will  beg  them  not  to 
be  offended  if  the  style  chances  unpleasantly  to 
affect  their  ears,  because  the  kingdom  of  God 
consists  not  of  eloquence,  but  faith.  Let  them 
also  bear  in  mind  that  salvation  was  preached 
to  the  world,  not  by  orators,  but  by  fishermen, 
although  God  could  certainly  have  adopted  the 
other  course,  had  it  been  advantageous.  For 
my  part,  indeed,  when  I  first  applied  my  mind 
to  writing  what  follows,  because  I  thought  it  dis- 
graceful that  the  excellences  of  so  great  a  man 
should  remain  concealed,  I  resolved  with  my- 
self not  to  feel  ashamed  on  account  of  sole- 
cisms of  language.  This  I  did  because  I  had 
never  attained  to  any  great  knowledge  of  such 
things ;    or,   if  I    had   formerly   some    taste    of 


"  Delere  licebit 
Quod  non  edideris:  nescit  vox  missa  reverti." 

—  Hor.  A  rt  Poet.  389-90. 


studies  of  the  kind,  I  had  lost  the  whole  of  that, 
through  having  neglected  these  matters  for  so 
long  a  course  of  time.  But,  after  all,  that  I  may 
not  have  in  future  to  adopt  such  an  irksome 
mode  of  self-defense,  the  best  way  will  be  that 
the  book  should  be  published,  if  you  think  right, 
with  the  author's  name  suppressed.  In  order  that 
this  may  be  done,  kindly  erase  the  title  which 
the  book  bears  on  its  front,  so  that  the  page 
may  be  silent;  and  (what  is  quite  enough)  let 
the  book  proclaim  its  subject-matter,  while  it 
tells  nothing  of  the  author. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Reasons  for  writing  the  Life  of  St.  Martin. 

Most  men  being  vainly  devoted  to  the  pursuit 
of  worldly  glory,  have,  as  they  imagined,  acquired 
a  memorial  of  their  own  names  from  this  source  ; 
viz.  devoting  their  pens  to  the  embellishment  of 
the  lives  of  famous  men.  This  course,  although 
it  did  not  secure  for  them  a  lasting  reputation, 
still  has  undoubtedly  brought  them  some  fulfil- 
ment of  the  hope  they  cherished.  It  has  done 
so,  both  by  preserving  their  own  memory,  though 
to  no  purpose,  and  because,  through  their  having 
presented  to  the  world  the  examples  of  great 
men,  no  small  emulation  has  been  excited  in 
the  bosoms  of  their  readers.  Yet,  notwithstand- 
ing these  things,  their  labors  have  in  no  degree 
borne  upon  the  blessed  and  never-ending  life  to 
which  we  look  forward.  For  what  has  a  glory, 
destined  to  perish  with  the  world,  profited  those 
men  themselves  who  have  written  on  mere  secu- 
lar matters?  Or  what  benefit  has  posterity 
derived  from  reading  of  Hector  as  a  warrior,  or 
Socrates  as  an  expounder  of  philosophy?  There 
can  be  no  profit  in  such  things,  since  it  is  not 
only  folly  to  imitate  the  persons  referred  to,  but 
absolute  madness  not  to  assail  them  with  the 
utmost  severity.  For,  in  truth,  those  persons 
who  estimate  human  life  only  by  present  actions, 
have  consigned  their  hopes  to  fables,  and  their 
souls  to  the  tomb.  In  fact,  they  gave  themselves 
up  to  be  perpetuated  simply  in  the  memory  of 
mortals,  whereas  it  is  the  duty  of  man  rather  to 


LIFE   OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


seek  after  eternal  life  than  an  eternal  memorial, 
and  that,  not  by  writing,  or  fighting,  or  philoso- 
phizing, but  by  living  a  pious,  holy,  and  religious 
life.  This  erroneous  conduct  of  mankind,  being 
enshrined  in  literature,  has  prevailed  to  such  an 
extent  that  it  has  found  many  who  have  been 
emulous  either  of  the  vain  philosophy  or  the 
foolish  excellence  which  has  been  celebrated. 
For  this  reason,  I  think  I  will  accomplish  some- 
thing well  worth  the  necessary  pains,  if  I  write 
the  life  of  a  most  holy  man,  which  shall  serve  in 
future  as  an  example  to  others  ;  by  which,  indeed, 
the  readers  shall  be  roused  to  the  pursuit  of  true 
knowledge,  and  heavenly  warfare,  and  divine 
virtue.  In  so  doing,  we  have  regard  also  to  our 
own  advantage,  so  that  we  may  look  for,  not  a 
vain  remembrance  among  men,  but  an  eternal 
reward  from  God.  For,  although  we  ourselves 
have  not  lived  in  such  a  manner  that  we  can 
serve  for  an  example  to  others,  nevertheless,  we 
have  made  it  our  endeavor  that  he  should  not 
remain  unknown  who  was  a  man  worthy  of  imi- 
tation. I  shall  therefore  set  about  writing  the 
life  of  St.  Martin,  and  shall  narrate  both  what 
he  did  previous  to  his  episcopate,  and  what  he 
performed  as  a  bishop.  At  the  same  time,  I 
cannot  hope  to  set  forth  all  that  he  was  or  did. 
Those  excellences  of  which  he  alone  was  con- 
scious are  completely  unknown,  because,  as  he 
did  not  seek  for  honor  from  men,  he  desired,  as 
much  as  he  could  accomplish  it,  that  his  virtues 
should  be  concealed.  And  even  of  those  which 
had  become  known  to  us,  we  have  omitted  a 
great  number,  because  we  have  judged  it  enough 
if  only  the  more  striking  and  eminent  should  be 
recorded.  At  the  same  time,  I  had  in  the  inter- 
ests of  readers  to  see  to  it  that,  no  undue  amount 
of  instances  being  set  before  them  should  make 
them  weary  of  the  subject.  But  I  implore  those 
who  are  to  read  what  follows  to  give  full  faith  to 
the  things  narrated,  and  to  believe  that  I  have 
written  nothing  of  which  I  had  not  certain 
knowledge  and  evidence.  I  should,  in  fact, 
have  preferred  to  be  silent  rather  than  to  narrate 
things  which  are  false.1 


1  This  is  a  remarkable  asseveration  in  view  of  the  many  miracu- 
lous accounts  which  follow.  When  we  remember,  on  the  one  hand, 
how  intimate  Sulpitius  was  with  St.  Martin,  and  how  strongly,  as 
in  this  passage,  he  avouches  the  truth  of  all  he  narrates,  it  is  ex- 
tremely difficult  to  decide  as  to  the  real  value  of  his  narrative.  It 
has  been  said  (Smith's  Diet.  II.  967)  that  Sulpitius'  Life  of  St. 
Martinus  is  "  filled  with  the  most  puerile  fables,"  and  undoubtedly 
many  of  the  stories  recorded  are  of  that  character.  But  whether, 
considering  the  close  relation  in  which  the  two  men  stood  to  each 
other,  all  the  miraculous  accounts  are  to  be  discredited,  must  be 
left  to  the  judgment  of  the  reader.  The  following  valuable  remarks 
may  be  quoted  on  this  interesting  question.  "  Some  forty  years 
ago,"  writes  Dr.  Cazenove,  "  an  audience  in  Oxford  was  listening 
to  a  professor  of  modern  history  (Dr.  Arnold  of  Rugby),  who  dis- 
cussed this  subject.  After  pointing  out  the  difference  between  the 
Gospel  miracles  and  those  recorded  by  ecclesiastical  historians,  the 
lecturer  proceeded  as  follows:  '  Some  appear  to  be  unable  to  con- 
ceive of  belief  or  unbelief,  except,  as  having  some  ulterior  object: 
"  We  believe  this  because  we  love  it;  we  disbelieve  it  because  we 
wish  it  to  be  disproved."  There  is,  however,  in  minds  more  health- 
fully constituted  a  belief  and  a  disbelief,  founded  solely  upon  the 
evidence  of  the  case,  arising  neither  out  of  partiality,  nor  out  of 
prejudice  against  the  supposed  conclusions,  which  may  result  from 


CHAPTER   II. 

Military  Service  of  St.  Martin. 

Martin,  then,  was  born  at  Sabaria1  in  Pan- 
nonia,  but  was  brought  up  at  Ticinum,2  which  is 
situated  in  Italy.  His  parents  were,  according 
to  the  judgment  of  the  world,  of  no  mean  rank, 
but  were  heathens.  His  father  was  at  first  sim- 
ply a  soldier,  but  afterwards  a  military  tribune. 
He  himself  in  his  youth  following  military  pur- 
suits was  enrolled  in  the  imperial  guard,  first 
under  king  Constantine,  and  then  under  Julian 
Caesar.  This,  however,  was  not  done  of  his  own 
free  will,  for,  almost  from  his  earliest  years,  the 
holy  infancy  of  the  illustrious  boy  aspired  rather 
to  the  service  of  God.3  For,  when  he  was  of 
the  age  of  ten  years,  he  betook  himself,  against 
the  wish  of  his  parents,  to  the  Church,  and 
begged  that  he  might  become  a  catechumen. 
Soon  afterwards,  becoming  in  a  wonderful  man- 
ner completely  devoted  to  the  service  of  God, 
when  he  was  twelve  years  old,  he  desired  to  en- 
ter on  the  life  of  a  hermit ;  and  he  would  have 
followed  up  that  desire  with  the  necessary  vows, 
had  not  his  as  yet  too  youthful  age  prevented. 
His  mind,  however,  being  always  engaged  on 
matters  pertaining  to  the  monasteries  or  the 
Church,  already  meditated  in  his  boyish  years 
what  he  afterwards,  as  a  professed  servant  of 


its  truth  or  falsehood.  And  in  such  a  spirit  the  historical  student 
will  consider  the  case  of  Bede's  and  other  historians'  miracles.  He 
will,  I  think,  as  a  general  rule,  disbelieve  them;  for  the  immense 
multitude  which  he  finds  recorded,  and  which,  I  suppose,  no  credu- 
lity could  believe  in,  shows  sufficiently  that  on  this  point  there  was 
a  total  want  of  judgment  and  a  blindness  of  belief  generally  existing 
which  make  the  testimony  wholly  insufficient;  and,  while  the  ex- 
ternal evidence  in  favor  of  these  alleged  miracles  is  so  unsatisfactory, 
there  are,  for  the  most  part,  strong  internal  evidence  against  them. 
But  with  regard  to  some  miracles,  he  will  see  that  there  is  no  strong 
a priori  improbability  in  their  occurrence,  but  rather  the  contrary; 
as,  for  instance,  when  the  first  missionaries  of  the  Gospel  in  a  bar- 
barous country  are  said  to  have  been  assisted  by  a  manifestation  of 
the  spirit  of  power;  and,  if  the  evidence  appears  to  warrant  his 
belief,  he  will  readily  and  gladly  yield  it.  And  in  doing  so  he  will 
have  the  countenance  of  a  great  man  (Burke)  who  in  his  fragment 
of  English  history  has  not  hesitated  to  express  the  same  sentiments. 
Nor  will  he  be  unwilling,  but  most  thankful,  to  find  sufficient 
grounds  for  believing  that  not  only  at  the  beginning  of  the  Gospel, 
but  in  ages  long  afterwards,  believing  prayer  has  received  extraor- 
dinary answers;  that  it  has  been  heard  even  in  more  than  it  might 
have  dared  to  ask  for.  Yet,  again,  if  the  gift  of  faith  —  the  gift  as 
distinguished  from  the  grace  —  of  the  faith  which  removes  moun- 
tains, has  been  given  to  any  in  later  times  in  remarkable  measure, 
the  mighty  works  which  such  faith  may  have  wrought  cannot  be 
incredible  in  themselves  to  those  who  remember  our  Lord's  promise, 
and  if  it  appears  from  satisfactory  evidence  that  they  were  wrought 
actually,  we  shall  believe  them,  —  and  believe  with  joy.  Only  as  it 
is  in  most  cases  impossible  to  admit  the  trustworthiness  of  the  evi- 
dence, our  minds  must  remain  at  the  most  in  a  state  of  suspense; 
and  I  do  not  know  why  it  is  necessary  to  come  to  any  positive  decis- 
ion.'"—  "The  Fathers  for  English  Readers":  St.  Hilary  0/  Poi- 
tiers and  St.  Martin  of  Tours,  p.  191. 

On  this  subject  it  has  lately  been  said:  "  Most,  if  not  all,  of  the 
so-called  miracles  which  were  supposed  to  surround  Martin  with  a 
blaze  of  glory  were  either  absolutely  and  on  the  face  of  them  false; 
or  were  gross  exaggerations  of  natural  events;  or  were  subjective 
impressions  clothed  in  objective  images;  or  were  the  distortions  of 
credulous  rumor;  or  at  the  best  cannot  claim  in  their  favor  a 
single  particle  of  trustworthy  evidence.  They  cannot  be  narrated 
as  though  they  were  actual  events.  Martin  was  an  eminent  bishop, 
but  half  of  the  wonderful  deeds  attributed  to  him  are  unworthy  and 
absurd."  —  Farrar's  Lives  of  the  Fathers,  I.  644. 

1  Sarwar.  2  Pavia. 

3  The  text  is  here  corrupt  and  uncertain,  but  the  general  mean- 
ing is  plain  to  the  above  effect.  Hahn  has  adopted  "  divinam  ser- 
vitutem,"  instead  of  the  common  "  divina  servitute." 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


Christ,  fulfilled.  But  when  an  edict  was  issued 
by  the  ruling  powers4  in  the  state,  that  the  sons 
of  veterans  should  be  enrolled  for  military  ser- 
vice, and  he,  on  the  information  furnished  by  his 
father,  (who  looked  with  an  evil  eye  on  his  blessed 
actions)  having  been  seized  and  put  in  chains, 
when  he  was  fifteen  years  old,  was  compelled  to 
take  the  military  oath,  then  showed  himself  con- 
tent with  only  one  servant  as  his  attendant.  And 
even  to  him,  changing  places  as  it  were,  he  often 
acted  as  though,  while  really  master,  he  had  been 
inferior ;  to  such  a  degree  that,  for  the  most 
part,  he  drew  off  his  [servant's]  boots  and  cleaned 
them  with  his  own  hand ;  while  they  took  their 
meals  together,  the  real  master,  however,  gener- 
ally acting  the  part  of  servant.  During  nearly 
three  years  before  his  baptism,  he  was  engaged 
in  the  profession  of  arms,  but  he  kept  completely 
free  from  those  vices  in  which  that  class  of  men 
become  too  frequently  involved.  He  showed 
exceeding  kindness  towards  his  fellow-soldiers, 
and  held  them  in  wonderful  affection  ;  while  his 
patience  and  humility  surpassed  what  seemed 
possible  to  human  nature.  There  is  no  need  to 
praise  the  self-denial  which  he  displayed  :  it  was 
so  great  that,  even  at  that  date,  he  was  regarded 
not  so  much  as  being  a  soldier  as  a  monk.  By 
all  these  qualities  he  had  so  endeared  himself  to 
the  whole  body  of  his  comrades,  that  they  es- 
teemed him  while  they  marvelously  loved  him. 
Although  not  yet  made  a  new  creature 5  in  Christ, 
he,  by  his  good  works,  acted  the  part  of  a  can- 
didate for  baptism.  This  he  did,  for  instance, 
by  aiding  those  who  were  in  trouble,  by  furnish- 
ing assistance  to  the  wretched,  by  supporting  the 
needy,  by  clothing  the  naked,  while  he  reserved 
nothing  for  himself  from  his  military  pay  except 
what  was  necessary  for  his  daily  sustenance. 
Even  then,  far  from  being  a  senseless  hearer  of 
the  Gospel,  he  so  far  complied  with  its  precepts 
as  to  take  no  thought  about  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Christ  appears  to  St.  Martin. 

Accordingly,  at  a  certain  period,  when  he 
had  nothing  except  his  arms  and  his  simple 
military  dress,  in  the  middle  of  winter,  a  winter 
which  had  shown  itself  more  severe  than  ordi- 
nary, so  that  the  extreme  cold  was  proving  fatal 
to  many,  he  happened  to  meet  at  the  gate  of 


4  Sulpitius  uses  reges  instead  of  the  more  common  expression 
imperatores. 

s  Sulpitius  manifestly  refers  to  baptism  in  these  words.  How- 
ever mistakenly,  several  others  of  the  early  Fathers  held  that  regen- 
eration does  not  take  place  before  baptism,  and  that  baptism  is,  in 
fact,  absolutely  necessary  to  regeneration.  St.  Ambrose  has  the 
following  strong  statement  on  the  subject:  "Credit  catechumenus; 
sed  nisi  baptizetur,  remissionem  peccatorum  non  potest  obtinere." 
—  Libri  de  his,  qui  initiantur  mysteriis,  chap.  4. 


the  city  of  Amiens l  a  poor  man  destitute  of 
clothing.  He  was  entreating  those  that  passed 
by  to  have  compassion  upon  him,  but  all  passed 
the  wretched  man  without  notice,  when  Martin, 
that  man  full  of  God,  recognized  that  a  being  to 
whom  others  showed  no  pity,  was,  in  that  re- 
spect, left  to  him.  Yet,  what  should  he  do? 
He  had  nothing  except  the  cloak  in  which  he 
was  clad,  for  he  had  already  parted  with  the 
rest  of  his  garments  for  similar  purposes.  Tak- 
ing, therefore,  his  sword  with  which  he  was  girt, 
he  divided  his  cloak  into  two  equal  parts,  and 
gave  one  part  to  the  poor  man,  while  he  again 
clothed  himself  with  the  remainder.  Upon  this, 
some  of  the  by-standers  laughed,  because  he 
was  now  an  unsightly  object,  and  stood  out  as 
but  partly  dressed.  Many,  however,  who  were 
of  sounder  understanding,  groaned  deeply  be- 
cause they  themselves  had  done  nothing  similar. 
They  especially  felt  this,  because,  being  pos- 
sessed of  more  than  Martin,  they  could  have 
clothed  the  poor  man  without  reducing  them- 
selves to  nakedness.  In  the  following  night, 
when  Martin  had  resigned  himself  to  sleep,  he 
had  a  vision  of  Christ  arrayed  in  that  part  of  his 
cloak  with  which  he  had  clothed  the  poor  man. 
He  contemplated  the  Lord  with  the  greatest 
attention,  and  was  told  to  own  as  his  the  robe 
which  he  had  given.  Ere  long,  he  heard  Jesus 
saying  with  a  clear  voice  to  the  multitude  of 
angels  standing  round  —  "  Martin,  who  is  still 
but  a  catechumen,  clothed2  me  with  this  robe." 
The  Lord,  truly  mindful  of  his  own  words  (who 
had  said  when  on  earth  —  "Inasmuch3  as  ye 
have  done  these  things  to  one  of  the  least  of 
these,  ye  have  done  them  unto  me),  declared 
that  he  himself  had  been  clothed  in  that  poor 
man ;  and  to  confirm  the  testimony  he  bore  to 
so  good  a  deed,  he  condescended  to  show  him 
himself  in  that  very  dress  which  the  poor  man  had 
received.  After  this  vision  the  sainted  man  was 
not  puffed  up  with  human  glory,  but,  acknowledg- 
ing the  goodness  of  God  in  what  had  been  done, 
and  being  now  of  the  age  of  twenty  years,  he 
hastened  to  receive  baptism.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, all  at  once,  retire  from  military  service, 
yielding  to  the  entreaties  of  his  tribune,  whom  he 
admitted  to  be  his  familiar  tent-companion.4  For 
the  tribune  promised  that,  after  the  period  of 
his  office  had  expired,  he  too  would  retire  from 
the  world.  Martin,  kept  back  by  the  expecta- 
tion of  this  event,  continued,  although  but  in 
name,  to  act  the  part  of  a  soldier,  for  nearly  two 
years  after  he  had  received  baptism. 


1  The  place  here  called  by  Sulpitius  "  Ambianensium  civitas  " 
was  also  known  as  "  Samarobriva,"  and  is  supposed  to  be  the  modern 
Amiens.  2  St.  Matt.  xxv.  40. 

3  There  is  a  peculiar  use  of  guamdiu  in  the  old  Latin  rendering 
of  the  passage  here  quoted.  It  is  used  as  an  equivalent  for  the 
Greek  h\>'  6<rov,  no  doubt  with  the  meaning  "  inasmuch  as." 

4  Comp.  Tacitus,  Agric.  chap.  5,  "  electus,  quern  contubernio 
aestimaret." 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Martin  retires  from  Military  Service. 

In  the  meantime,  as  the  barbarians  were 
rushing  within  the  two  divisions  of  Gaul,  Ju- 
lian Caesar,1  bringing  an  army  together  at  the 
city2  of  the  Vaugiones,  began  to  distribute  a 
donative  to  the  soldiers.  As  was  the  custom  in 
such  a  case,  they  were  called  forward,  one  by 
one,  until  it  came  to  the  turn  of  Martin.  Then, 
indeed,  judging  it  a  suitable  opportunity  for 
seeking  his  discharge  —  for  he  did  not  think  it 
would  be  proper  for  him,  if  he  were  not  to  con- 
tinue in  the  service,  to  receive  a  donative — he 
said  to  Caesar,  "  Hitherto  I  have  served  you  as 
a  soldier :  allow  me  now  to  become  a  soldier 
to  God  :  let  the  man  who  is  to  serve  thee  re- 
ceive thy  donative  :  I  am  the  soldier  of  Christ : 
it  is  not  lawful  for  me  to  fight."  Then  truly  the 
tyrant  stormed  on  hearing  such  words,  declaring 
that,  from  fear  of  the  battle,  which  was  to  take 
place  on  the  morrow,  and  not  from  any  religious 
feeling,  Martin  withdrew  from  the  service.  But 
Martin,  full  of  courage,  yea  all  the  more  reso- 
lute from  the  danger  that  had  been  set  before 
him,  exclaims,  "  If  this  conduct  of  mine  is 
ascribed  to  cowardice,  and  not  to  faith,  I  will 
take  my  stand  unarmed  before  the  line  of  battle 
to-morrow,  and  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
protected  by  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  not  by 
shield  or  helmet,  I  will  safely  penetrate  the 
ranks  of  the  enemy."  He  is  ordered,  therefore, 
to  be  thrust  back  into  prison,  determined  on 
proving  his  words  true  by  exposing  himself  un- 
armed to  the  barbarians.  But,  on  the  following 
day,  the  enemy  sent  ambassadors  to  treat  about 
peace  and  surrendered  both  themselves  and  all 
their  possessions.  In  these  circumstances  who 
can  doubt  that  this  victory  was  due  to  the  saintly 
man  ?  It  was  granted  him  that  he  should  not 
be  sent  unarmed  to  the  fight.  And  although 
the  good  Lord  could  have  preserved  his  own 
soldier,  even  amid  the  swords  and  darts  of  the 
enemy,  yet  that  his  blessed  eyes  might  not  be 
pained  by  witnessing  the  death  of  others,  he 
removed  all  necessity  for  fighting.  For  Christ 
did  not  require  to  secure  any  other  victory  in 
behalf  of  his  own  soldier,  than  that,  the  enemy 
being  subdued  without  bloodshed,  no  one  should 
suffer  death. 

CHAPTER   V. 

Martin  converts  a  Robber  to  the  Faith. 

From  that  time  quitting  military  service, 
Martin    earnestly   sought    after   the    society    of 


1  Commonly  known  as  Julian  the  Apostate. 

-  This  city  was  called  Borbetomagus,  and  is  represented  by  the 
modern  Worms. 


Hilarius,  bishop  of  the  city  Pictava,1  whose  faith 
in  the  things  of  God  was  then  regarded  as  of 
high  renown,  and  in  universal  esteem.  For 
some  time  Martin  made  his  abode  with  him. 
Now,  this  same  Hilarius,  having  instituted  him 
in  the  office  of  the  diaconate,  endeavored  still 
more  closely  to  attach  him  to  himself,  and  to 
bind  him  by  leading  him  to  take  part  in  Divine 
service.  But  when  he  constantly  refused,  cry- 
ing out  that  he  was  unworthy,  Hilarius,  as  being 
a  man  of  deep  penetration,  perceived  that  he 
could  only  be  constrained  in  this  way,  if  he 
should  lay  that  sort  of  office  upon  him,  in  dis- 
charging which  there  should  seem  to  be  a  kind 
of  injury  done  him.  He  therefore  appointed 
him  to  be  an  exorcist.  Martin  did  not  refuse 
this  appointment,  from  the  fear  that  he  might 
seem  to  have  looked  down  upon  it  as  somewhat 
humble.  Not  long  after  this,  he  was  warned  in 
a  dream  that  he  should  visit  his  native  land,  and 
more  particularly  his  parents,  who  were  still  in- 
volved in  heathenism,  with  a  regard  for  their 
religious  interests.  He  set  forth  in  accordance 
with  the  expressed  wish  of  the  holy  Hilarius, 
and,  after  being  adjured  by  him  with  many 
prayers  and  tears,  that  he  would  in  due  time  re- 
turn. According  to  report  Martin  entered  on 
that  journey  in  a  melancholy  frame  of  mind, 
after  calling  the  brethren  to  witness  that  many 
sufferings  lay  before  him.  The  result  fully 
justified  this  prediction.  For,  first  of  all,  hav- 
ing followed  some  devious  paths  among  the 
Alps,  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  robbers.  And 
when  one  of  them  lifted  up  his  axe  and  poised 
it  above  Martin's  head,  another  of  them  met 
with  his  right  hand  the  blow  as  it  fell ;  never- 
theless, having  had  his  hands  bound  behind  his 
back,  he  was  handed  over  to  one  of  them  to  be 
guarded  and  stripped.  The  robber,  having  led 
him  to  a  private  place  apart  from  the  rest,  began 
to  enquire  of  him  who  he  was.  Upon  this, 
Martin  replied  that  he  was  a  Christian.  The 
robber  next  asked  him  whether  he  was  afraid. 
Then  indeed  Martin  most  courageously  replied 
that  he  never  before  had  felt  so  safe,  because  he 
knew  that  the  mercy  of  the  Lord  would  be  es- 
pecially present  with  him  in  the  midst  of  trials. 
He  added  that  he  grieved  rather  for  the  man  in 
whose  hands  he  was,  because,  by  living  a  life  of 
robbery,  he  was  showing  himself  unworthy  of  the 
mercy  of  Christ.  And  then  entering  on  a  dis- 
course concerning  Evangelical  truth,  he  preached 
the  word  of  God  to  the  robber.  Why  should  I 
delay  stating  the  result  ?  The  robber  believed ; 
and,  after  expressing  his  respect  for  Martin,  he 
restored  him  to  the  way,  entreating  him  to  pray 
the  Lord  for  him.     That  same  robber  was  after- 


1  This  was  a  city  of  the  Pictones  (or  Pictavi)  who  are  mentioned 
by  Caesar,  Bell  Gall.  iii.  n.  Their  territory  corresponded  to  the 
modern  diocese  of  Poitiers. 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


wards  seen  leading  a  religious  life  ;  so  that,  in 
fact,  the  narrative  I  have  given  above  is  based 
upon  an  account  furnished  by  himself. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Devil  throws  himself  in  the  Way  of  Martin. 

Martin,  then,  having  gone  on  from  thence, 
after  he  had  passed  Milan,  the  devil  met  him  in 
the  way,  having  assumed  the  form  of  a  man. 
The  devil  first  asked  him  to  what  place  he  was 
going.  Martin  having  answered  him  to  the  ef- 
fect that  he  was  minded  to  go  whithersoever  the 
Lord  called  him,  the  devil  said  to  him,  "  Wher- 
ever you  go,  or  whatever  you  attempt,  the  devil 
will  resist  you."  Then  Martin,  replying  to  him 
in  the  prophetical  word,  said,  "  The  Lord  is  my 
helper ;  I  will  not  fear  what  man  can  do  unto 
me."  l  Upon  this,  his  enemy  immediately  van- 
ished out  of  his  sight ;  and  thus,  as  he  had  in- 
tended in  his  heart  and  mind,  he  set  free  his 
mother  from  the  errors  of  heathenism,  though 
his  father  continued  to  cleave  to  its  evils.  How- 
ever, he  saved  many  by  his  example. 

After  this,  when  the  Arian  heresy  had  spread 
through  the  whole  world,  and  was  especially 
powerful  in  Illyria,  and  when  he,  almost  single- 
handed,  was  fighting  most  strenuously  against 
the  treachery  of  the  priests,  and  had  been  sub- 
jected to  many  punishments  (for  he  was  publicly 
scourged,  and  at  last  was  compelled  to  leave  the 
city),  again  betaking  himself  to  Italy,  and  hav- 
ing found  the  Church  in  the  two  divisions  of  Gaul 
in  a  distracted  condition  through  the  departure 
also  of  the  holy  Hilarius,  whom  the  violence 
of  the  heretics  had  driven  into  exile,  he  estab- 
lished a  monastery  for  himself  at  Milan.  There, 
too,  Auxentius,  the  originator  and  leader  of  the 
Arians,  bitterly  persecuted  him  ;  and,  after  he 
had  assailed  him  with  many  injuries,  violently 
expelled  him  from  the  city.  Thinking,  there- 
fore, that  it  was  necessary  to  yield  to  circum- 
stances, he  withdrew  to  the  island  Gallinaria,2 
with  a  certain  presbyter  as  his  companion,  a 
man  of  distinguished  excellences.  Here  he  sub- 
sisted for  some  time  on  the  roots  of  plants  ;  and, 
while  doing  so,  he  took  for  food  hellebore,  which 
is,  as  people  say,  a  poisonous  kind  of  grass.  But 
when  he  perceived  the  strength  of  the  poison 
increasing  within  him,  and  death  now  nearly  at 
hand,  he  warded  off  the  imminent  danger  by 
means  of  prayer,  and  immediately  all  his  pains 
were  put  to  flight.  And  not  long  after  having 
discovered  that,  through  penitence  on  the  part  of 
the  king,  permission  to  return  had  been  granted 


1  Comp.  Ps.  cxviii.  6. 

2  An  island  near  Albium  Ingaunum  —  the  modern  Allenga,  on 
the  Gulf  of  Genoa.  The  island  was  so  named  from  abounding  in 
fowls  in  a  half-tamed  state.     It  still  bears  the  name  of  Gallinaria. 


to  holy  Hilarius,  he  made  an  effort  to  meet  him 
at  Rome,  and,  with  this  view,  set  out  for  that 
city. 

CHAPTER   VII. 

Martin  restores  a  Catechumen  to  Life. 

As  Hilarius  had  already  gone  away,  so  Martin 
followed  in  his  footsteps  ;  and  having  been  most 
joyously  welcomed  by  him,  he  established  for 
himself  a  monastery  not  far  from  the  town.  At 
this  time  a  certain  catechumen  joined  him,  being 
desirous  of  becoming  instructed  in  the  doctrines  1 
and  habits  of  the  most  holy  man.  But,  after  the 
lapse  only  of  a  few  days,  the  catechumen,  seized 
with  a  languor,  began  to  suffer  from  a  violent 
fever.  It  so  happened  that  Martin  had  then  left 
home,  and  having  remained  away  three  days,  he 
found  on  his  return  that  life  had  departed  from 
the  catechumen  ;  and  so  suddenly  had  death  oc- 
curred, that  he  had  left  this  world  without  re- 
ceiving baptism.  The  body  being  laid  out  in 
public  was  being  honored  by  the  last  sad  offices 
on  the  part  of  the  mourning  brethren,  when 
Martin  hurries  up  to  them  with  tears  and  lamen- 
tations. But  then  laying  hold,  as  it  were,  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  with  the  whole  powers  of  his  mind, 
he  orders  the  others  to  quit  the  cell  in  which 
the  body  was  lying ;  and  bolting  the  door,  he 
stretches  himself  at  full  length  on  the  dead  limbs 
of  the  departed  brother.  Having  given  himself 
for  some  time  to  earnest  prayer,  and  perceiving 
by  means  of  the  Spirit  of  God  that  power  was 
present,2  he  then  rose  up  for  a  little,  and  gazing 
on  the  countenance  of  the  deceased,  he  waited 
without  misgiving  for  the  result  of  his  prayer 
and  of  the  mercy  of  the  Lord.  And  scarcely 
had  the  space  of  two  hours  elapsed,  when  he  saw 
the  dead  man  begin  to  move  a  little  in  all  his 
members,  and  to  tremble  with  his  eyes  opened 
for  the  practice  of  sight.  Then  indeed,  turning 
to  the  Lord  with  a  loud  voice  and  giving  thanks, 
he  filled  the  cell  with  his  ejaculations.  Hearing 
the  noise,  those  who  had  been  standing  at  the 
door  immediately  rush  inside.  And  truly  a  mar- 
velous spectacle  met  them,  for  they  beheld  the 
man  alive  whom  they  had  formerly  left  dead. 
Thus  being  restored  to  life,  and  having  immedi- 
ately obtained  baptism,  he  lived  for  many  years 
afterwards ;  and  he  was  the  first  who  offered 
himself  to  us  both  as  a  subject  that  had  experi- 
enced the  virtues 3  of  Martin,  and  as  a  witness 
to  their  existence.  The  same  man  was  wont  to 
relate  that,  when  he  left  the  body,  he  was  brought 
before  the  tribunal  of  the  Judge,  and  being  as- 
signed to  gloomy  regions  and  vulgar  crowds,  he 


1  All  this  seems  to  be  implied  in  the  words  "  institui  disciplinis." 

2  "  adesse  virtutem." 

3  Or  "  powers"  according  to  the  use  of  the  Greek  word  SuVajiis 
in  St.  Luke  viii.  46. 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


received  a  severe 4  sentence.  Then,  however,  he 
added,  it  was  suggested  by  two  angels  of  the 
Judge  that  he  was  the  man  for  whom  Martin 
was  praying ;  and  that,  on  this  account,  he  was 
ordered  to  be  led  back  by  the  same  angels,  and 
given  up  to  Martin,  and  restored  to  his  former 
life.  From  this  time  forward,  the  name  of  the 
sainted  man  became  illustrious,  so  that,  as  being 
reckoned  holy  by  all,  he  was  also  deemed  pow- 
erful and  truly  apostolical. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Martin  restores  one  that  had  been  strangled. 

Not  long  after  these  events,  while  Martin  was 
passing  by  the  estate  of  a  certain  man  named 
Lupicinus,  who  was  held  in  high  esteem  according 
to  the  judgment  of  the  world,  he  was  received 
with  shouting  and  the  lamentations  of  a  wailing 
crowd.  Having,  in  an  anxious  state  of  mind, 
gone  up  to  that  multitude,  and  enquired  what 
such  weeping  meant,  he  was  told  that  one  of  the 
slaves  of  the  family  had  put  an  end  to  his  life  by 
hanging.  Hearing  this,  Martin  entered  the  cell 
in  which  the  body  was  lying,  and,  excluding  all 
the  multitude,  he  stretched  himself  upon  the 
body,  and  spent  some  little  time  in  prayer. 
Ere  long,  the  deceased,  with  life  beaming  in  his 
countenance,  and  with  his  drooping  eyes  fixed 
on  Martin's  face,  is  aroused ;  and  with  a  gentle 
effort  attempting  to  rise,  he  laid  hold  of  the 
right  hand  of  the  saintly  man,  and  by  this  means 
stood  upon  his  feet.  In  this  manner,  while  the 
whole  multitude  looked  on,  he  walked  along 
with  Martin  to  the  porch  of  the  house. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

High  Esteem  in  which  Martin  was  held. 

Nearly  about  the  same  time,  Martin  was 
called  upon  to  undertake  the  episcopate  of  the 
church  at  Tours ; l  but  when  he  could  not 
easily  be  drawn  forth  from  his  monastery,  a 
certain  Ruricius,  one  of  the  citizens,  pretending 
that  his  wife  was  ill,  and  casting  himself  down 
at  his  knees,  prevailed  on  him  to  go  forth. 
Multitudes  of  the  citizens  having  previously  been 
posted  by  the  road  on  which  he  traveled,  he  is 
thus  under  a  kind  of  guard  escorted  to  the  city. 
An  incredible  number  of  people  not  only  from 
that  town,  but  also  from  the  neighboring  cities, 
had,  in  a  wonderful  mariner,  assembled  to  give 

*  Here  again  it  is  to  be  noted  what  fatal  consequences  were  sup- 
posed to  flow  from  dying  without  receiving  baptism. 

1  The  Turones  occupied  territory  on  both  sides  of  the  river 
Loire.  Caesar  refers  to  them  {Bell.  Gall.  ii.  35,  &c).  Their  chief 
town  was  named  Caesarodunum,  the  modern  Tours. 


their  votes.2  There  was  but  one  wish  among  all, 
there  were  the  same  prayers,  and  there  was  the 
same  fixed  opinion  to  the  effect  that  Martin  was 
most  worthy  of  the  episcopate,  and  that  the 
church  would  be  happy  with  such  a  priest.  A 
few  persons,  however,  and  among  these  some  of 
the  bishops,  who  had  been  summoned  to  appoint 
a  chief  priest,  were  impiously  offering  resistance, 
asserting  forsooth  that  Martin's  person  was  con- 
temptible, that  he  was  unworthy  of  the  episco- 
pate, that  he  was  a  man  despicable  in  counte- 
nance, that  his  clothing  was  mean,  and  his  hair 
disgusting.  This  madness  of  theirs  was  ridiculed 
by  the  people  of  sounder  judgment,  inasmuch  as 
such  objectors  only  proclaimed  the  illustrious 
character  of  the  man,  while  they  sought  to 
slander  him.  Nor  truly  was  it  allowed  them  to 
do  anything  else,  than  what  the  people,  follow- 
ing the  Divine  will,  desired 3  to  be  accomplished. 
Among  the  bishops,  however,  who  had  been 
present,  a  certain  one  of  the  name  Defensor  is 
said  to  have  specially  offered  opposition ;  and 
on  this  account  it  was  observed  that  he  was  at 
the  time  severely  censured  in  the  reading  from 
the  prophets.  For  when  it  so  happened  that  the 
reader,  whose  duty  it  was  to  read  in  public 
that  day,  being  blocked  out  by  the  people, 
failed  to  appear,  the  officials  falling  into  con- 
fusion, while  they  waited  for  him  who  never 
came,  one  of  those  standing  by,  laying  hold  of 
the  Psalter,  seized  upon  the  first  verse  which 
presented  itself  to  him.  Now,  the  Psalm  ran 
thus  :  "  Out  of  the  mouth  of  babes  and  suck- 
lings thou  hast  perfected  praise  because  of  thine 
enemies,  that  thou  mightest  destroy  the  enemy 
and  the  avenger."4  On  these  words  being  read, 
a  shout  was  raised  by  the  people,  and  the  oppo- 
site party  were  confounded.  It  was  believed 
that  this  Psalm  had  been  chosen  by  Divine 
ordination,  that  Defensor5  might  hear  a  testi- 
mony to  his  own  work,  because  the  praise  of  the 
Lord  was  perfected  out  of  the  mouth  of  babes 
and  sucklings  in  the  case  of  Martin,  while  the 
enemy  was  a£  the  same  time  both  pointed  out 
and  destroyed. 

CHAPTER  X. 

Martin  as  Bishop  of  Tours. 

And  now  having  entered  on  the  episcopal 
office,  it  is  beyond  my  power  fully  to  set  forth 
how  Martin  distinguished  himself  in  the  dis- 
charge of  its  duties.  For  he  remained  with  the 
utmost  constancy,  the  same   as    he    had    been 


-  It  is  clear  from  this  passage  that  the  people  at  large  were 
accustomed  in  ancient  times  to  give  their  votes  on  the  appointment 
of  a  bishop. 

3  We  here  adopt  Halm's  reading  "  cogitabat,"  in  preference  to 
the  usual  "  cogebat."  4  Ps.  viii.  3. 

5  The  word  translated  "  avenger  "  in  the  English  A.  V.  is  "  de- 
fensor "  in  the  Vulgate,  and  thus  the  man  referred  to  would  have 
seemed  to  be  expressly  named. 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


9 


before.  There  was  the  same  humility  in  his 
heart,  and  the  same  homeliness  in  his  garments. 
Full  alike  of  dignity  and  courtesy,  he  kept  up 
the  position  of  a  bishop  properly,  yet  in  such  a 
way  as  not  to  lay  aside  the  objects  and  virtues 
of  a  monk.  Accordingly  he  made  use,  for  some 
time,  of  the  cell  connected  with  the  church  ; 
but  afterwards,  when  he  felt  it  impossible  to 
tolerate  the  disturbance  caused  by  the  numbers 
of  those  visiting  it,  he  established  a  monastery 
for  himself  about  two  miles  outside  the  city. 
This  spot  was  so  secret  and  retired  that  he  en- 
joyed in  it  the  solitude  of  a  hermit.  For,  on 
one  side,  it  was  surrounded  by  a  precipitous 
rock  of  a  lofty  mountain,  while  the  river  Loire 
had  shut  in  the  rest  of  the  plain  by  a  bay  ex- 
tending back  for  a  little  distance  ;  and  the  place 
could  be  approached  only  by  one,  and  that  a 
very  narrow  passage.  Here,  then,  he  possessed 
a  cell  constructed  of  wood.  Many  also  of  the 
brethren  had,  in  the  same  manner,  fashioned  re- 
treats for  themselves,  but  most  of  them  had 
formed  these  out  of  the  rock  of  the  overhanging 
mountain,  hollowed  into  caves.  There  were 
altogether  eighty  disciples,  who  were  being  dis- 
ciplined after  the  example  of  the  saintly  master. 
No  one  there  had  anything  which  was  called  his 
own ;  all  things  were  possessed  in  common.  It 
was  not  allowed  either  to  buy  or  to  sell  anything, 
as  is  the  custom  among  most  monks.  No  art 
was  practiced  there,  except  that  of  transcribers, 
and  even  this  was  assigned  to  the  brethren  of 
younger  years,  while  the  elders  spent  their  time 
in  prayer.  Rarely  did  any  one  of  them  go  be- 
yond the  cell,  unless  when  they  assembled  at 
the  place  of  prayer.  They  all  took  their  food 
together,  after  the  hour  of  fasting  was  past.  No 
one  used  wine,  except  when  illness  compelled 
them  to  do  so.  Most  of  them  were  clothed  in 
garments  of  camels'  hair.1  Any  dress  approach- 
ing to  softness 2  was  there  deemed  criminal,  and 
this  must  be  thought  the  more  remarkable,  be- 
cause many  among  them  were  such  as  are 
deemed  of  noble  rank.  These,  though  far  dif- 
ferently brought  up,  had  forced  themselves  down 
to  this  degree  of  humility  and  patient  endurance, 
and  we  have  seen  numbers  of  these  afterwards 
made  bishops.  For  what  city  or  church  would 
there  be  that  would  not  desire  to  have  its  priests 
from  among  those  in  the  monastery  of  Martin  ? 


CHAPTER  XL 

Martin  demolishes   an  Altar   consecrated  to  a 
Robber. 

But  let  me  proceed  to  a  description  of  other 

1  Cf.  St.  Matt.  iii.  4. 

2  *n  St.  Matt;  xi.  8,  there  is  a  reference  to  those  "  that  wear  soft 
clothing,"  — oi  -a  /xaAaxa  (^opoOvTe?. 


excellences  which  Martin  displayed  as  a  bishop. 
There  was,  not  far  from  the  town,  a  place  very 
close  to  the  monastery,  which  a  false  human 
opinion  had  consecrated,  on  the  supposition  that 
some  martyrs  had  been  buried  together  there. 
For  it  was  also  believed  that  an  altar  had  been 
placed  there  by  former  bishops.  But  Martin, 
not  inclined  to  give  a  hasty  belief  to  things  un- 
certain, often  asked  from  those  who  were  his 
elders,  whether  among  the  presbyters  or  clerics, 
that  the  name  of  the  martyr,  or  the  time  when 
he  suffered,  should  be  made  known  to  him.  He 
did  so,  he  said,  because  he  had  great  scruples 
on  these  points,  inasmuch  as  no  steady  tradition 
respecting  them  had  come  down  from  antiquity. 
Having,  therefore,  for  a  time  kept  away  from 
the  place,  by  no  means  wishing  to  lessen  the 
religious  veneration  with  which  it  was  regarded, 
because  he  was  as  yet  uncertain,  but,  at  the 
same  time  not  lending  his  authority  to  the 
opinion  of  the  multitude,  lest  a  mere  supersti- 
tion should  obtain  a  firmer  footing,  he  one  day 
went  out  to  the  place,  taking  a  few  brethren 
with  him  as  companions.  There  standing  above 
the  very  sepulchre,  Martin  prayed  to  the  Lord 
that  he  would  reveal  who  the  man  in  question 
was,  and  what  was  his  character  or  desert.  Next 
turning  to  the  left-hand  side,  he  sees  standing 
very  near  a  shade  of  a  mean  and  cruel  appear- 
ance. Martin  commands  him  to  tell  his  name 
and  character.  Upon  this,  he  declares  his  name, 
and  confesses  his  guilt.  He  says  that  he  had 
been  a  robber,  and  that  he  was  beheaded  on 
account  of  his  crimes ;  that  he  had  been  hon- 
ored simply  by  an  error  of  the  multitude  ;  that 
he  had  nothing  in  common  with  the  martyrs, 
since  glory  was  their  portion,  while  punishment 
exacted  its  penalties  from  him.  Those  who 
stood  by  heard,  in  a  wonderful  way,  the  voice 
of  the  speaker,  but  they  beheld  no  person. 
Then  Martin  made  known  what  he  had  seen, 
and  ordered  the  altar  which  had  been  there  to 
be  removed,  and  thus  he  delivered  the  people 
from  the  error  of  that  superstition. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Martin  causes  the  Bearers  of  a  Dead  Body  to 


Now,  it  came  to  pass  some  time  after  the 
above,  that  while  Martin  was  going  a  journey, 
he  met  the  body  of  a  certain  heathen,  which  was 
being  carried  to  the  tomb  with  superstitious  fu- 
neral rites.  Perceiving  from  a  distance  the  crowd 
that  was  approaching,  and  being  ignorant  as  to 
what  was  going  on,  he  stood  still  for  a  little 
while.  For  there  was  a  distance  of  nearly  half 
a  mile  between  him  and  the  crowd,  so  that  it 


IO 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


was  difficult  to  discover  what  the  spectacle  he 
beheld  really  was.  Nevertheless,  because  he 
saw  it  was  a  rustic  gathering,  and  when  the  linen 
clothes  spread  over  the  body  were  blown  about 
by  the  action  of  the  wind,  he  believed  that  some 
profane  rites  of  sacrifice  were  being  performed. 
This  thought  occurred  to  him,  because  it  was  the 
custom  of  the  Gallic  rustics  in  their  wretched 
folly  to  carry  about  through  the  fields  the  im- 
ages of  demons  veiled  with  a  white  covering. 
Lifting  up,  therefore,  the  sign  of  the  cross  oppo- 
site to  them,  he  commanded  the  crowd  not  to 
move  from  the  place  in  which  they  were,  and  to 
set  down  the  burden.  Upon  this,  the  miserable 
creatures  might  have  been  seen  at  first  to  be- 
come stiff  like  rocks.  Next,  as  they  endeavored, 
with  every  possible  effort,  to  move  forward,  but 
were  not  able  to  take  a  step  farther,  they  began 
to  whirl  themselves  about  in  the  most  ridiculous 
fashion,  until,  not  able  any  longer  to  sustain  the 
weight,  they  set  down  the  dead  body.  Thunder- 
struck, and  gazing  in  bewilderment  at  each  other, 
as  not  knowing  what  had  happened  to  them, 
they  remained  sunk  in  silent  thought.  But  when 
the  saintly  man  discovered  that  they  were  simply 
a  band  of  peasants  celebrating  funeral  rites,  and 
not  sacrifices  to  the  gods,  again  raising  his  hand, 
he  gave  them  the  power  of  going  away,  and  of 
lifting  up  the  body.  Thus  he  both  compelled 
them  to  stand  when  he  pleased,  and  permitted 
them  to  depart  when  he  thought  good. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Martin  escapes  from  a  Falling  Pine-tree. 

Again,  when  in  a  certain  village  he  had  de- 
molished a  very  ancient  temple,  and  had  set 
about  cutting  down  a  pine-tree,  which  stood 
close  to  the  temple,  the  chief  priest  of  that  place, 
and  a  crowd  of  other  heathens  began  to  oppose 
him.  And  these  people,  though,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Lord,  they  had  been  quiet  while 
the  temple  was  being  overthrown,  could  not 
patiently  allow  the  tree  to  be  cut  down.  Martin 
carefully  instructed  them  that  there  was  nothing 
sacred  in  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  and  urged  them 
rather  to  honor  God  whom  he  himself  served. 
He  added  that  there  was  a  moral  necessity  why 
that  tree  should  be  cut  down,  because  it  had 
been  dedicated  to  a  demon.  Then  one  of  them 
who  was  bolder  than  the  others  says,  "  If  you 
have  any  trust  in  thy  God,  whom  you  say  you 
worship,  we  ourselves  will  cut  down  this  tree, 
and  be  it  your  part  to  receive  it  when  falling ; 
for  if,  as  you  declare,  your  Lord  is  with  you, 
you  will  escape  all  injury."  Then  Martin,  cour- 
ageously trusting  in  the  Lord,  promises  that  he 
would  do  what  had  been  asked.     Upon  this,  all 


that  crowd  of  heathen  agreed  to  the  condition 
named ;  for  they  held  the  loss  of  their  tree  a 
small  matter,  if  only  they  got  the  enemy  of  their 
religion  buried  beneath  its  fall.  Accordingly, 
since  that  pine-tree  was  hanging  over  in  one 
direction,  so  that  there  was  no  doubt  to  what 
side  it  would  fall  on  being  cut,  Martin,  having 
been  bound,  is,  in  accordance  with  the  decision 
of  these  pagans,  placed  in  that  spot  where,  as  no 
one  doubted,  the  tree  was  about  to  fall.  They 
began,  therefore,  to  cut  down  their  own  tree, 
with  great  glee  and  joyfulness,  while  there  was 
at  some  distance  a  great  multitude  of  wondering 
spectators.  And  now  the  pine-tree  began  to 
totter,  and  to  threaten  its  :  own  ruin  by  falling. 
The  monks  at  a  distance  grew  pale,  and,  terri- 
fied by  the  danger  ever  coming  nearer,  had  lost 
all  hope  and  confidence,  expecting  only  the 
death  of  Martin.  But  he,  trusting  in  the  Lord, 
and  waiting  courageously,  when  now  the  falling 
pine  had  uttered  its  expiring  crash,  while  it  was 
now  falling,  while  it  was  just  rushing  upon  him, 
simply  holding  up  his  hand  against  it,  he  put  in 
its  way  the  sign  of  salvation.  Then,  indeed, 
after  the  manner  of  a  spinning-top  (one  might 
have  thought  it  driven2  back),  it  swept  round 
to  the  opposite  side,  to  such  a  degree  that  it 
almost  crushed  the  rustics,  who  had  taken  their 
places  there  in  what  was  deemed  a  safe  spot. 
Then  truly,  a  shout  being  raised  to  heaven,  the 
heathen  were  amazed  by  the  miracle,  while  the 
monks  wept  for  joy ;  and  the  name  of  Christ 
was  in  common  extolled  by  all.  The  well-known 
result  was  that  on  that  day  salvation  came  to 
that  region.  For  there  was  hardly  one  of  that 
immense  multitude  of  heathens  who  did  not 
express  a  desire  for  the  imposition  of  hands,  and 
abandoning  his  impious  errors,  made  a  profession 
of  faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus.  Certainly,  before 
the  times  of  Martin,  very  few,  nay,  almost  none, 
in  those  regions  had  received  the  name  of  Christ ; 
but  through  his  virtues  and  example  that  name 
has  prevailed  to  such  an  extent,  that  now  there 
is  no  place  thereabouts  which  is  not  filled  either 
with  very  crowded  churches  or  monasteries. 
For  wherever  he  destroyed  heathen  temples, 
there  he  used  immediately  to  build  either 
churches  or  monasteries. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Alartin  destroys  Heathen  Temples  and  Altars. 

Nor  did  he  show  less  eminence,  much  about 
the  same  time,  in  other  transactions  of  a  like 


1  Perhaps  "  suam  "  here  stands  for  "ejus,"  as  in  other  passages 
of  our  author.  The  meaning  will  then  be,  *'  and  to  threaten  his 
(Martin's)  destruction  by  falling." 

2  It  seems  better  to  preserve  the  parenthesis  than  to  translate 
the  words  as  they  stand  in  Halm's  text,  "  turn  vero  —  velut  tur- 
binis  modo  retro  actam  putares  —  diversam  in  partem  ruit." 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


1 1 


kind.  For,  having  in  a  certain  village  set  fire 
to  a  very  ancient  and  celebrated  temple,  the 
circle  of  flames  was  carried  by  the  action  of  the 
wind  upon  a  house  which  was  very  close  to,  yea, 
connected  with,  the  temple.  When  Martin  per- 
ceived this,  he  climbed  by  rapid  ascent  to  the 
roof  of  the  house,  presenting  himself  in  front  of 
the  advancing  flames.  Then  indeed  might  the 
fire  have  been  seen  thrust  back  in  a  wonderful 
manner  against  the  force  of  the  wind,  so  that 
there  appeared  a  sort  of  conflict  of  the  two  ele- 
ments fighting  together.  Thus,  by  the  influence 
of  Martin,  the  fire  only  acted  in  the  place  where 
it  was  ordered  to  do  so.  But  in  a  village  which 
was  named  Leprosum,  when  he  too  wished  to 
overthrow  a  temple  which  had  acquired  great 
wealth  through  the  superstitious  ideas  enter- 
tained of  its  sanctity,  a  multitude  of  the  heathen 
resisted  him  to  such  a  degree  that  he  was  driven 
back  not  without  bodily  injury.  He,  therefore, 
withdrew  to  a  place  in  the  vicinity,  and  there 
for  three  days,  clothed  in  sackcloth 1  and  ashes, 
fasting  and  praying  the  whole  time,  he  besought 
the  Lord,  that,  as  he  had  not  been  able  to  over- 
throw that  temple  by  human  effort,  Divine  power 
might  be  exerted  to  destroy  it.  Then  two  angels, 
with  spears  and  shields  after  the  manner  of  heav- 
enly warriors,  suddenly  presented  themselves  to 
him,  saying  that  they  were  sent  by  the  Lord  to 
put  to  flight  the  rustic  multitude,  and  to  furnish 
protection  to  Martin,  lest,  while  the  temple  was 
being  destroyed,  any  one  should  offer  resistance. 
They  told  him  therefore  to  return,  and  complete 
the  blessed  work  which  he  had  begun.  Accord- 
ingly Martin  returned  to  the  village ;  and  while 
the  crowds  of  heathen  looked  on  in  perfect  quiet 
as  he  razed  the  pagan  temple  even  to  the  foun- 
dations, he  also  reduced  all  the  altars  and  images 
to  dust.  At  this  sight  the  rustics,  when  they 
perceived  that  they  had  been  so  astounded  and 
terrified  by  an  intervention  of  the  Divine  will, 
that  they  might  not  be  found  fighting  against 
the  bishop,  almost  all  believed  in  the  Lord  Jesus. 
They  then  began  to  cry  out  openly  and  to  con- 
fess that  the  God  of  Martin  ought  to  be  wor- 
shiped, and  that  the  idols  should  be  despised, 
which  were  not  able  to  help  them. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Martin  offers  his  Neck  to  an  Assassin. 

I  shall  also  relate  what  took  place  in  the  vil- 
lage of  the  zEdui.  When  Martin  was  there  over- 
throwing a  temple,  a  multitude  of  rustic  heathen 
rushed  upon  him  in  a  frenzy  of  rage.  And  when 
one  of  them,  bolder  than  the  rest,  made  an  attack 


1  Literally  "  a  covering  made  of  Cilician  goats'  hair.' 
called  Cilicium,  and  was  worn  by  soldiers  and  others. 


upon  him  with  a  drawn  sword,  Martin,  throwing 
back  his  cloak,  offered  his  bare  neck  to  the  assas- 
sin. Nor  did  the  heathen  delay  to  strike,  but  in 
the  very  act  of  lifting  up  his  right  arm,  he  fell  to 
the  ground  on  his  back,  and  being  overwhelmed 
by  the  fear  of  God,  he  entreated  for  pardon. 
Not  unlike  this  was  that  other  event  which  hap- 
pened to  Martin,  that  when  a  certain  man  had 
resolved  to  wound  him  with  a  knife  as  he  was 
destroying  some  idols,  at  the  very  moment  of 
fetching  the  blow,  the  weapon  was  struck  out  of 
his  hands  and  disappeared.  Very  frequently,  too, 
when  the  pagans  were  addressing  him  to  the 
effect  that  he  would  not  overthrow  their  temples, 
he  so  soothed  and  conciliated  the  minds  of  the 
heathen  by  his  holy  discourse  that,  the  light  of 
truth  having  been  revealed  to  them,  they  them- 
selves overthrew  their  own  temples. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Cures  effected  by  St.  Afar  tin. 

Moreover,  the  gift1  of  accomplishing  cures 
was  so  largely  possessed  by  Martin,  that  scarcely 
any  sick  person  came  to  him  for  assistance  with- 
out being  at  once  restored  to  health.  This  will 
clearly  appear  from  the  following  example.  A 
certain  girl  at  Treves 2  was  so  completely  pros- 
trated by  a  terrible  paralysis  that  for  a  long  time 
she  had  been  quite  unable  to  make  use  of  her 
body  for  any  purpose,  and  being,  as  it  were, 
already  dead,  only  the  smallest  breath  of  life 
seemed  still  to  remain  in  her.  Her  afflicted 
relatives  were  standing  by,  expecting  nothing 
but  her  death,  when  it  was  suddenly  announced 
that  Martin  had  come  to  that  city.  When  the 
father  of  the  girl  found  that  such  was  the  case, 
he  ran  to  make  a  request  in  behalf  of  his  all  but 
lifeless  child.  It  happened  that  Martin  had 
already  entered  the  church.  There,  while  the 
people  were  looking  on,  and  in  the  presence  of 
many  other  bishops,  the  old  man,  uttering  a  cry 
of  grief,  embraced  the  saint's  knees  and  said  : 
"  My  daughter  is  dying  of  a  miserable  kind  of 
infirmity  ;  and,  what  is  more  dreadful  than  death 
itself,  she  is  now  alive  only  in  the  spirit,  her  flesh 
being  already  dead  before  the  time.  I  beseech 
thee  to  go  to  her,  and  give  her  thy  blessing ;  for 
I  believe  that  through  you  she  will  be  restored 
to  health."  Martin,  troubled  by  such  an  address, 
was  bewildered,  and  shrank  back,  saying  that 
this  was  a  matter  not  in  his  own  hands  ;  that 
the  old  man  was  mistaken  in  the  judgment  he 


1  The  Latin  word  gratia  here  corresponds  to  the  Greek  ydpicr)ja. 
St.  Paul  says  much  respecting  the  various  xaP'0>aTa  in  i  Cor.  xii._. 
and  speaks,  among  others,  of  yapCtr/xaTa  ia/narar  (v.  9). 

2  The  name  Treveri  at  first  denoted  the  people  (as  often  in 
Caesar,  Bell.  Gall.  i.  37,  &c),  and  was  afterwards  -applied  to  their 
chief  city,  the  modern  Treves. 


12 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


had  formed  ;  and  that  he  was  not  worthy  to  be 
the  instrument  through  whom  the  Lord  should 
make  a  display  of  his  power.  The  father,  in 
tears,  persevered  in  still  more  earnestly  pressing 
the  case,  and  entreated  Martin  to  visit  the  dying 
girl.  'At  last,  constrained  by  the  bishops  stand- 
ing by  to  go  as  requested,  he  went  down  to  the 
home  of  the  girl.  An  immense  crowd  was  wait- 
ing at  the  doors,  to  see  what  the  servant  of  the 
Lord  would  do.  And  first,  betaking  himself  to 
his  familiar  arms  in  affairs  of  that  kind,  he  cast 
himself  down  on  the  ground  and  prayed.  Then 
gazing  earnestly  upon  the  ailing  girl,  he  requests 
that  oil  should  be  given  him.  After  he  had  re- 
ceived and  blessed  this,  he  poured  the  powerful 
sacred  liquid  into  the  mouth  of  the  girl,  and  im- 
mediately her  voice  returned  to  her.  Then  gradu- 
ally, through  contact  with  him,  her  limbs  began, 
one  by  one,  to  recover  life,  till,  at  last,  in  the 
presence  of  the  people,  she  arose  with  firm  steps. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 
Martin  casts  out  Several  Devils. 

At  the  same  time  the  servant  of  one  Tetra- 
dius,  a  man  of  proconsular  rank,  having  been 
laid  hold  of  by  a  demon,  was  tormented  with 
the  most  miserable  results.  Martin,  therefore, 
having  been  asked  to  lay  his  hands  on  him,  or- 
dered the  servant  to  be  brought  to  him  ;  but  the 
evil  spirit  could,  in  no  way,  be  brought  forth  from 
the  cell  in  which  he  was  :  he  showed  himself  so 
fearful,  with  ferocious  teeth,  to  those  who  at- 
tempted to  draw  near.  Then  Tetradius  throws 
himself  at  the  feet  of  the  saintly  man,  imploring 
that  he  himself  would  go  down  to  the  house  in 
which  the  possessed  of  the  devil  was  kept.  But 
Martin  then  declared  that  he  could  not  visit  the 
house  of  an  unconverted  heathen.  For  Tetra- 
dius, at  that  time,  was  still  involved  in  the  errors 
of  heathenism.  He,  therefore,  pledges  his  word 
that  if  the  demon  were  driven  out  of  the  boy, 
he  would  become  a  Christian.  Martin,  then, 
laying  his  hand  upon  the  boy,  cast  the  evil  spirit 
out  of  him.  On  seeing  this,  Tetradius  believed 
in  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  immediately  became  a 
catechumen,  while,  not  long  after,  he  was  bap- 
tized ;  and  he  always  regarded  Martin  with  ex- 
traordinary affection,  as  having  been  the  author 
of  his  salvation. 

About  the  same  time,  having  entered  the 
dwelling  of  a  certain  householder  in  the  same 
town,  he  stopped  short  at  the  very  threshold,  and 
said,  that  he  perceived  a  horrible  demon  in  the 
court-yard  of  the  house.  When  Martin  ordered 
it  to  depart,  it  laid  hold  of  a  certain  member  of 


the  family,  who  was  staying  in  the  inner  part  of 
the  house  ;  and  the  poor  wretch  began  at  once  to 
rage  with  his  teeth,  and  to  lacerate  whomsoever 
he  met.  The  house  was  thrown  into  disorder ; 
the  family  was  in  confusion ;  and  the  people 
present  took  to  flight.  Martin  threw  himself  in 
the  way  of  the  frenzied  creature,  and  first  of  all 
commanded  him  to  stand  still.  But  when  he 
continued  to  gnash  with  his  teeth,  and,  with 
gaping  mouth,  was  threatening  to  bite,  Martin 
inserted  his  fingers  into  his  mouth,  and  said, 
"  If  you  possess  any  power,  devour  these."  But 
then,  as  if  red-hot  iron  had  entered  his  jaws, 
drawing  his  teeth  far  away  he  took  care  not  to 
touch  the  fingers  of  the  saintly  man ;  and  when 
he  was  compelled  by  punishments  and  tortures, 
to  flee  out  of  the  possessed  body,  while  he  had 
no  power  of  escaping  by  the  mouth,  he  was  cast 
out  by  means  of  a  defluxion  of  the  belly,  leaving 
disgusting  traces  behind  him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Martin  performs  Various  Miracles. 

I>r  the  meanwhile,  as  a  sudden  report  had 
troubled  the  city  as  to  the  movement  and 
inroad  of  the  barbarians,  Martin  orders  a  pos- 
sessed person  to  be  set  before  him,  and  com- 
manded him  to  declare  whether  this  message 
was  true  or  not.  Then  he  confessed  that  there 
were  sixteen  demons  who  had  spread  this  report 
among  the  people,  in  order  that  by  the  fear  thus 
excited,  Martin  might  have  to  flee  from  the  city, 
but  that,  in  fact,  nothing  was  less  in  the  minds 
of  the  barbarians  than  to  make  any  inroad. 
When  the  unclean  spirit  thus  acknowledged  these 
things  in  the  midst  of  the  church,  the  city  was 
set  free  from  the  fear  and  tumult  which  had  at 
the  time  been  felt. 

At  Paris,  again,  when  Martin  was  entering  the 
gate  of  the  city,  with  large  crowds  attending 
him,  he  gave  a  kiss  to  a  leper,  of  miserable  ap- 
pearance, while  all  shuddered  at  seeing  him  do 
so ;  and  Martin  blessed  him,  with  the  result 
that  he  was  instantly  cleansed  from  all  his  mis- 
ery. On  the  following  day,  the  man  appearing 
in  the  church  with  a  healthy  skin,  gave  thanks 
for  the  soundness  of  body  which  he  had  recov- 
ered. This  fact,  too,  ought  not  to  be  passed 
over  in  silence,  that  threads  from  Martin's  gar- 
ment, or  such  as  had  been  plucked  from  the 
sackcloth  which  he  wore,  wrought  frequent  mir- 
acles upon  those  who  were  sick.  For,  by  either 
being  tied  round  the  fingers  or  placed  about  the 
neck,  they  very  often  drove  away  diseases  from 
the  afflicted. 


LIFE   OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


13 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

A  Letter  of  Martin  effects  a   Cure,  with  Other 
Miracles. 

Further,  Arborius,  an  ex-prefect,  and  a  man 
of  a  very  holy  and  faithful  character,  while  his 
daughter  was  in  agony  from  the  burning  fever 
of  a  quartan  ague,  inserted  in  the  bosom  of  the 
girl,  at  the  very  paroxysm  of  the  heat,  a  letter 
of  Martin  which  happened  to  have  been  brought 
to  him,  and  immediately  the  fever  was  dispelled. 
This  event  had  such  an  influence  upon  Arborius, 
that  he  at  once  consecrated  the  girl  to  God,  and 
devoted  her  to  perpetual  virginity.  Then,  pro- 
ceeding to  Martin,  he  presented  the  girl  to  him, 
as  an  obvious  living  example  of  his  power  of 
working  miracles,  inasmuch  as  she  had  been 
cured  by  him  though  absent ;  and  he  would  not 
suffer  her  to  be  consecrated  by  any  other  than 
Martin,  through  his  placing  upon  her  the  dress 
characteristic  of  virginity. 

Paulinus,  too,  a  man  who  was  afterwards  to 
furnish  a  striking  example  of  the  age,  having  be- 
gun to  suffer  grievously  in  one  of  his  eyes,  and 
when  a  pretty  thick  skin  *  having  grown  over  it 
had  already  covered  up  its  pupil,  Martin  touched 
his  eye  with  a  painter's  brush,  and,  all  pain 
being  removed,  thus  restored  it  to  its  former 
soundness.  He  himself  also,  when,  by  a  certain 
accident,  he  had  fallen  out  of  an  upper  room, 
and  tumbling  down  a  broken,  uneven  stair,  had 
received  many  wounds,  as  he  lay  in  his  cell  at 
the  point  of  death,  and  was  tortured  with  griev- 
ous sufferings,  saw  in  the  night  an  angel  appear 
to  him,  who  washed  his  wounds,  and  applied 
healing  ointment  to  the  bruised  members  of  his 
body.  As  the  effect  of  this,  he  found  himself  on 
the  morrow  restored  to  soundness  of  health,  so 
that  he  was  not  thought  to  have  suffered  any 
harm.  But  because  it  would  be  tedious  to  go 
through  everything  of  this  kind,  let  these  ex- 
amples suffice,  as  a  few  out  of  a  multitude  ;  and 
let  it  be  enough  that  we  do  not  in  striking  cases 
[of  miraculous  interposition]  detract  from  the 
truth,  while,  having  so  many  to  choose  from,  we 
avoid  exciting  weariness  in  the  reader. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

How  Martin  acted  tozuards  the  Emperor 
Maxim  us. 

And  here  to  insert  some  smaller  matters 
among  things  so  great  (although  such  is  the 
nature  of  our  times  in  which  all  things  have 
fallen  into  decay  and  corruption,  it  is  almost  a 
pre-eminent  virtue  for  priestly  firmness  not  to 


1  "  Nubes,"  lit.  "  a  cloud.' 


have  yielded  to  royal  flattery),  when  a  number 
of  bishops  from  various  parts  had  assembled  to 
the  Emperor  Maximus,  a  man  of  fierce  charac- 
ter, and  at  that  time  elated  with  the  victory  hfc 
had  won  in  the  civil  wars,  and  when  the  dis- 
graceful flattery  of  all  around  the  emperor  was 
generally  remarked,  while  the  priestly  dignity 
had,  with  degenerate  submissiveness,  taken  a 
second  place  to  the  royal  retinue,  in  Martin 
alone,  apostolic  authority  continued  to  assert 
itself.  For  even  if  he  had  to  make  suit  to  the 
sovereign  for  some  things,  he  commanded  rather 
than  entreated  him  ;  and  although  often  invited, 
he  kept  away  from  his  entertainments,  saying 
that  he  could  not  take  a  place  at  the  table  of 
one  who,  out  of  two  emperors,  had  deprived 
one  of  his  kingdom,  and  the  other  of  his  life. 
At  last,  when  Maximus  maintained  that  he  had 
not  of  his  own  accord  assumed  the  sovereignty, 
but  that  he  had  simply  defended  by  arms  the 
necessary  requirements  l  of  the  empire,  regard  to 
which  had  been  imposed  upon  him  by  the  sol- 
diers, according  to  the  Divine  appointment,  and 
that  the  favor  of  God  did  not  seem  wanting  to 
him  who,  by  an  event  seemingly  so  incredible, 
had  secured  the  victory,  adding  to  that  the 
statement  that  none  of  his  adversaries  had  been 
slain  except  in  the  open  field  of  battle,  at 
length,  Martin,  overcome  either  by  his  reasoning 
or  his  entreaties,  came  to  the  royal  banquet. 
The  king  was  wonderfully  pleased  because  he 
had  gained  this  point.  Moreover,  there  were 
guests  present  who  had  been  invited  as  if  to  a 
festival ;  men  of  the  highest  and  most  illustrious 
rank,  —  the  prefect,  who  was  also  consul,  named 
Evodius,  one  of  the  most  righteous  men  that 
ever  lived  ;  two  courtiers  possessed  of  the  great- 
est power,  the  brother  and  uncle  of  the  king, 
while  between  these  two,  the  presbyter  of  Mar- 
tin had  taken  his  place  ;  but  he  himself  occupied 
a  seat  which  was  set  quite  close  to  the  king. 
About  the  middle  of  the  banquet,  according  to 
custom,  one  of  the  servants  presented  a  goblet 
to  the  king.  He  orders  it  rather  to  be  given  to 
the  very  holy  bishop,  expecting  and  hoping  that 
he  should  then  receive  the  cup  from  his  right 
hand.  But  Martin,  when  he  had  drunk,  handed 
the  goblet  to  his  own  presbyter,  as  thinking  no 
one  worthier  to  drink  next  to  himself,  and  hold- 
ing that  it  would  not  be  right  for  him  to  prefer 
either  the  king  himself,  or  those  who  were  next 
the  king,  to  the  presbyter.  And  the  emperor, 
as  well  as  all  those  who  were  then  present,  ad- 
mired this  conduct  so  much,  that  this  very  thing, 
by  which  they  had  been  undervalued,  gave  them 
pleasure.  The  report  then  ran  through  the 
whole  palace  that  Martin  had  done,  at  the 
king's  dinner,  what  no  bishop  had  dared  to  do 


1  "  Regni  necessitatera  "  —  an  awkward  expression. 


14 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


at  the  banquets  of  the  lowest  judges.  And 
Martin  predicted  to  the  same  Maximus  long 
before,  that  if  he  went  into  Italy  to  which  he 
then  desired  to  go,  waging  war,  against  the 
Emperor  Valentinianus,  it  would  come  to  pass 
that  he  should  know  he  would2  indeed  be  victo- 
rious in  the  first  attack,  but  would  perish  a  short 
time  afterwards.  And  we  have  seen  that  this 
did  in  fact  take  place.  For,  on  his  first  arrival, 
Valentinianus  had  to  betake  himself  to  flight ; 
but  recovering  his  strength  about  a  year  after- 
wards, Maximus  was  taken  and  slain  by  him 
within  the  walls  of  Aquileia. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Martin  has  to  do  both  with  Angels  and  Devils. 

It  is  also  well  known  that  angels  were  very 
often  seen  by  him,  so  that  they  spoke  in  turns 
with  him  in  set  speech.  As  to  the  devil,  Martin 
held  him  so  visible  and  ever  under  the  power  of 
his  eyes,  that  whether  he  kept  himself  in  his 
proper  form,  or  changed  himself  into  different 
shapes  of  spiritual  wickedness,  he  was  perceived 
by  Martin,  under  whatever  guise  he  appeared. 
The  devil  knew  well  that  he  could  not  escape 
discovery,  and  therefore  frequently  heaped  in- 
sults upon  Martin,  being  unable  to  beguile  him 
by  trickery.  On  one  occasion  the  devil,  hold- 
ing in  his  hand  the  bloody  horn  of  an  ox, 
rushed  into  Martin's  cell  with  great  noise,  and 
holding  out  to  him  his  bloody  right  hand,  while 
at  the  same  time  he  exulted  in  the  crime  he 
had  committed,  said  :  "  Where,  O  Martin,  is  thy 
power?  I  have  just  slain  one  of  your  people." 
Then  Martin  assembled  the  brethren,  and  related 
to  them  what  the  devil  had  disclosed,  while  he 
ordered  them  carefully  to  search  the  several 
cells  in  order  to  discover  who  had  been  visited 
with  this  calamity.  They  report  that  no  one  of 
the  monks  was  missing,  but  that  one  peasant, 
hired  by  them,  had  gone  to  the  forest  to  bring 
home  wood  in  his  wagon.  Upon  hearing  this, 
Martin  instructs  some  of  them  to  go  and  meet 
him.  On  their  doing  so,  the  man  was  found 
almost  dead  at  no  great  distance  from  the  mon- 
astery. Nevertheless,  although  just  drawing  his 
last  breath,  he  made  known  to  the  brethren  the 
cause  of  his  wound  and  death.  He  said  that, 
while  he  was  drawing  tighter  the  thongs  which 
had  got  loose  on  the  oxen  yoked  together,  one 
of  the  oxen,  throwing  his  head  free,  had  wounded 
him  with  his  horn  in  the  groin.  And  not  long 
after  the  man  expired.  You 1  see  with  what 
judgment  of  the  Lord  this  power  was  given  to 
the  devil.      This   was   a   marvelous   feature  in 


2  There  is  considerable  confusion  in  this  sentence. 
1  Halm  reads  the  imperative  "  videris,"  "  consider." 


Martin  that  not  only  on  this  occasion  to  which 
I  have  specially  referred,  but  on  many  occasions 
of  the  same  kind,  in  fact  as  often  as  such  things 
occurred,  he  perceived  them  long  beforehand, 
and 2  disclosed  the  things  which  had  been  re- 
vealed to  him  to  the  brethren. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Martin  preaches  Repentance  even  to  the  Devil. 

Now,  the  devil,  while  he  tried  to  impose  upon 
the  holy  man  by  a  thousand  injurious  arts,  often 
thrust  himself  upon  him  in  a  visible  form,  but  in 
very  various  shapes.  For  sometimes  he  pre- 
sented himself  to  his  view  changed  into  the  per- 
son of  Jupiter,  often  into  that  of  Mercury  and 
Minerva.  Often,  too,  were  heard  words  of  re- 
proach, in  which  the  crowd  of  demons  assailed 
Martin  with  scurrilous  expressions.  But  know- 
ing that  all  were  false  and  groundless,  he  was 
not  affected  by  the  charges  brought  against  him. 
Moreover,  some  of  the  brethren  bore  witness 
that  they  had  heard  a  demon  reproaching  Mar- 
tin in  abusive  terms,  and  asking  why  he  had 
taken  back,  on  their  subsequent  repentance, 
certain  of  the  brethren  who  had,  some  time 
previously,  lost  their  baptism  by  falling  into 
various  errors.  The  demon  set  forth  the  crimes 
of  each  of  them  ;  but  they  added  that  Martin, 
resisting  the  devil  firmly,  answered  him,  that 
by-past  sins  are  cleansed  away  by  the  leading 
of  a  better  life,  and  that  through  the  mercy  of 
God,  those  are  to  be  absolved  from  their  sins 
who  have  given  up  their  evil  ways.  The  devil 
saying  in  opposition  to  this  that  such  guilty  men 
as  those  referred  to  did  not  come  within  the 
pale  of  pardon,  and  that  no  mercy  was  extended 
by  the  Lord  to  those  who  had  once  fallen  away, 
Martin  is  said  to  have  cried  out  in  words  to  the 
following  effect :  "  If  thou,  thyself,  wretched 
being,  wouldst  but  desist  from  attacking  mankind, 
and  even,  at  this  period,  when  the  day  of  judg- 
ment is  at  hand,  wouldst  only  repent  of  your 
deeds,  I,  with  a  true  confidence  in  the  Lord, 
would  promise  you  the  mercy  of  Christ."1  O 
what  a  holy  boldness  with  respect  to  the  loving- 
kindness  of  the  Lord,  in  which,  although  he 
could  not  assert  authority,  he  nevertheless  showed 
the  feelings  dwelling  within  him  !  And  since 
our  discourse  has  here  sprung  up  concerning 
the  devil  and  his  devices,  it  does  not  seem  away 
from  the  point,  although  the  matter  does  not 


2  Halm  reads  "  aut  sibi  nuntiata  fratribus  indicabat." 
1  This  is  a  truly  noteworthy  passage.  It  anticipates  a  well- 
known  sentiment  of  Burns,  the  national  bard  of  Scotland.  In  his 
Address  to  the  Deil,  Burns  has  said  that  if  the  great  enemy  would 
only  "  tak  a  thocht  an'  men',"  he  might  still  have  a  chance  of  safety, 
and  this  idea  seems  very  much  in  accordance  with  the  opinion  of 
St.  Martin  as  expressed  above.  Hornius,  however,  is  very  indig- 
nant on  account  of  it,  and  exclaims:  "  Intolerabilis  hie  Martini 
error.  Nee  Sulpicius  excusatione  sua  demit,  sed  auget.  Orig^nes 
primus  ejus  erroris  author." 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


15 


bear  immediately  upon  Martin,  to  relate  what 
took  place  ;  both  because  the  virtues  of  Martin 
do,  to  seme  extent,  appear  in  the  transaction, 
and  the  incident,  which  was  worthy  of  a  miracle, 
will  properly  be  put  on  record,  with  the  view  of 
furnishing  a  caution,  should  anything  of  a  similar 
character  subsequently  occur. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

A  Case  of  Diabolic  Deception. 

There  was  a  certain  man,  Claims  by  name,  a 
most  noble  youth,  who  afterwards  became  a 
presbyter,  and  who  is  now,  through  his  happy 
departure  from  this  world,  numbered  among  the 
saints.  He,  leaving  all  others,  betook  himself 
to  Martin,  and  in  a  short  time  became  distin- 
guished for  the  most  exalted  faith,  and  for  all 
sorts  of  excellence.  Now,  it  came  to  pass  that, 
when  he  had  erected  an  abode  for  himself  not 
far  from  the  monastery  of  the  bishop,  and  many 
brethren  were  staying  with  him,  a  certain  youth, 
Anatolius  by  name,  having,  under  the  profession 
of  a  monk,  falsely  assumed  every  appearance  of 
humility  and  innocence,  came  to  him,  and  lived 
for  some  time  on  the  common  store  along  with 
the  rest.  Then,  as  time  went  on,  he  began  to 
affirm  that  angels  were  in»  the  habit  of  talking 
with  him.  As  no  one  gave  any  credit  to  his 
words,  he  urged  a  number  of  the  brethren  to 
believe  by  certain  signs.  At  length  he  went  to 
such  a  length  as  to  declare  that  angels  passed 
between  him  and  God  ;  and  now  he  wished  that 
he  should  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  prophets. 
Clarus,  however,  could  by  no  means  be  induced 
to  believe.  He  then  began  to  threaten  Clarus 
with  the  anger  of  God  and  present  afflictions, 
because  he  did  not  believe  one  of  the  saints. 
At  the  last,  he  is  related  to  have  burst  forth  with 
the  following  declaration :  "  Behold,  the  Lord 
will  this  night  give  me  a  white  robe  out  of 
heaven,  clothed  in  which,  I  will  dwell  in  the 
midst  of  you  ;  and  that  will  be  to  you  a  sign 
that  I  am  the  Power  of  God,  inasmuch  as  I 
have  been  presented  with  the  garment  of  God." 
Then  truly  the  expectation  of  all  was  highly 
raised  by  this  profession.  Accordingly,  about  the 
middle  of  the  night,  it  was  seen,  by  the  noise  of 
people  moving  eagerly  about,  that  the  whole 
monastery  in  the  place  was  excited.  It  might 
be  seen,  too,  that  the  cell  in  which  the  young 
man  referred  to  lived  was  glittering  with  numer- 
ous lights  ;  and  the  whisperings  of  those  moving 
about  in  it,  as  well  as  a  kind  of  murmur  of  many 
voices,  could  be  heard.  Then,  on  silence  being 
secured,  the  youth  coming  forth  calls  one  of  the 
brethren,  Sabatius  by  name,  to  himself,  and  shows 
him  the  robe  in  which  he  had  been  clothed.    He 


again,  filled  with  amazement,  gathers  the  rest 
together,  and  Clarus  himself  also  runs  up ;  and 
a  light  being  obtained,  they  all  carefully  inspect 
the  garment.  Now,  it  was  of  the  utmost  soft- 
ness, of  marvelous  brightness,  and  of  glittering 
purple,  and  yet  no  one  could  discover  what  was 
its  nature,  or  of  what  sort  of  fleece  it  had  been 
formed.  However,  when  it  was  more  minutely 
examined  by  the  eyes  or  fingers,  it  seemed  nothing 
else  than  a  garment.  In  the  meantime,  Clarus 
urges  upon  the  brethren  to  be  earnest  in  prayer, 
that  the  Lord  would  show  them  more  clearly 
what  it  really  was.  Accordingly,  the  rest  of  the 
night  was  spent  in  singing  hymns  and  psalms. 
But  when  day  broke,  Clarus  wished  to  take  the 
young  man  by  the  hand,  and  bring  him  to  Mar- 
tin, being  well  aware  that  he  could  not  be  de- 
ceived by  any  arts  of  the  devil.  Then,  indeed, 
the  miserable  man  began  to  resist  and  refuse, 
and  affirmed  that  he  had  been  forbidden  to  show 
himself  to  Martin.  And  when  they  compelled 
him  to  go  against  his  will,  the  garment  vanished 
from  among  the  hands  of  those  who  were  con- 
ducting him.  Wherefore,  who  can  doubt  that 
this,  too,  was  an  illustration  of  the  power  of 
Martin,  so  that  the  devil  could  no  longer  dis- 
semble or  conceal  his  own  deception,  when  it 
was  to  be  submitted  to  the  eyes  of  Martin? 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Martin  is  tempted  by  the  Wiles  of  the  Devil. 

It  was  found,  again,  that  about  the  same  time 
there  was  a  young  man  in  Spain,  who,  having  by 
many  signs  obtained  for  himself  authority  among 
the  people,  was  puffed  up  to  such  a  pitch  that 
he  gave  himself  out  as  being  Elias.  And  when 
multitudes  had  too  readily  believed  this,  he  went 
on  to  say  that  he  was  actually  Christ ;  and  he 
succeeded  so  well  even  in  this  delusion  that  a 
certain  bishop  named  Rufus  worshiped  him  as 
being  the  Lord.  For  so  doing,  we  have  seen 
this  bishop  at  a  later  date  deprived  of  his  office. 
Many  of  the  brethren  have  also  informed  me 
that  at  the  same  time  one  arose  in  the  East,  who 
boasted  that  he  was  John.  We  may  infer  from 
this,  since  false  prophets  of  such  a  kind  have 
appeared,  that  the  coming  of  Antichrist  is  at 
hand  ;  for  he  is  already  practicing  in  these  per- 
sons the  mystery  of  iniquity.  And  truly  I  think 
this  point  should  not  be  passed  over,  with  what 
arts  the  devil  about  this  very  time  tempted  Mar- 
tin. For,  on  a  certain  day,  prayer1  having  been 
previously  offered,  and  the  fiend  himself  being 
surrounded  by  a  purple  light,  in  order  that  he 
might  the  more  easily  deceive  people  by  the 
brilliance  of  the  splendor  assumed,  clothed  also 


1  "  Prece  "  for  the  usual  reading  "  prae  se." 


i6 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


in  a  royal  robe,  and  with  a  crown  of  precious 
stones  and  gold  encircling  his  head,  his  shoes 
too  being  inlaid  with  gold,  while  he  presented  a 
tranquil  countenance,  and  a  generally  rejoicing 
aspect,  so  that  no  such  thought  as  that  he  was 
the  devil  might  be  entertained  —  he  stood  by 
the  side  of  Martin  as  he  was  praying  in  his  cell. 
The  saint  being  dazzled  by  his  first  appearance, 
both  preserved  a  long  and  deep  silence.  This 
was  first  broken  by  the  devil,  who  said  :  "  Ac- 
knowledge, Martin,  who  it  is  that  you  behold. 
I  am  Christ ;  and  being  just  about  to  descend 
to  earth,  I  wished  first  to  manifest  myself  to 
thee."  When  Martin  kept  silence  on  hearing 
these  words,  and  gave  no  answer  whatever,  the 
devil  dared  to  repeat  his  audacious  declaration  : 
"  Martin,  why  do  you  hesitate  to  believe,  when 
you  see?  I  am  Christ."  Then  Martin,  the 
Spirit  revealing  the  truth  to  him,  that  he  might 
understand  it  was  the  devil,  and  not  God,  re- 
plied as  follows  :  "The  Lord  Jesus  did  not  pre- 
dict that  he  would  come  clothed  in  purple,  and 
with  a  glittering  crown  upon  his  head.  I  will 
not  believe  that  Christ  has  come,  unless  he  ap- 
pears with  that  appearance  and  form  in  which 
he  suffered,  and  openly  displaying  the  marks  of 
his  wounds  upon  the  cross."  On  hearing  these 
words,  the  devil  vanished  like  smoke,  and  filled 
the  cell  with  such  a  disgusting  smell,  that  he  left 
unmistakable  evidences  of  his  real  character. 
This  event,  as  I  have  just  related,  took  place  in 
the  way  which  I  have  stated,  and  my  informa- 
tion regarding  it  was  derived  from  the  lips  of 
Martin  himself;  therefore  let  no  one  regard  it 
as  fabulous.2 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

Intercourse  of  Sulpitius  with  Martin. 

For  since  I,  having  long  heard  accounts  of 
his  faith,  life  and  virtues,  burned  with  a  desire 
of  knowing  him,  I  undertook  what  was  to  me  a 
pleasant  journey  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  him. 
At  the  same  time,  because  already  my  mind  was 
inflamed  with  the  desire  of  writing  his  life,  I 
obtained  my  information  partly  from  himself,  in 
so  far  as  I  could  venture  to  question  him,  and 
partly  from  those  who  had  lived  with  him,  or 
well  knew  the  facts  of  the  case.  And  at  this 
time  it  is  scarcely  credible  with  what  humility 
and  with  what  kindness  he  received  me  ;  while 
he  cordially  wished  me  joy,  and  rejoiced  in  the 
Lord  that  he  had  been  held  in  such  high  estima- 
tion by  me  that  I  had  undertaken  a  journey 
owing  to  my  desire  of  seeing  him.  Unworthy 
me  !  (in  fact,  I  hardly  dare  acknowledge  it),  that 

2  In  spite  of  the  combined  testimony  of  Martin  and  Sulpitius 
here  referred  to,  few  will  have  any  doubt  as  to  the  real  character  of 
this  narrative. 


he  should  have  deigned  to  admit  me  to  fellow- 
ship with  him  !  He  went  so  far  as  in  person  to 
present  me  with  water  to  wash  my  hands,  and 
at  eventide  he  himself  washed  my  feet ;  nor  had 
I  sufficient  courage  to  resist  or  oppose  his  doing 
so.  In  fact,  I  felt  so  overcome  by  the  authority 
he  unconsciously  exerted,  that  I  deemed  it  un- 
lawful to  do  anything  but  acquiesce  in  his  ar- 
rangements. His  conversation  with  me  was  all 
directed  to  such  points  as  the  following  :  that  the 
allurements  of  this  world  and  secular  burdens 
were  to  be  abandoned  in  order  that  we  might 
be  free  and  unencumbered  in  following  the  Lord 
Jesus  ;  and  he  pressed  upon  me  as  an  admirable 
example  in  present  circumstances  the  conduct 
of  that  distinguished  man  Paulinus,  of  whom  I 
have  made  mention  above.  Martin  declared  of 
him  that,  by  parting  with  his  great  possessions 
and  following  Christ,  as  he  did,  he  showed  him- 
self almost  the  only  one  who  in  these  times  had 
fully  obeyed  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel.  He 
insisted  strongly  that  that  was  the  man  who 
should  be  made  the  object  of  our  imitation, 
adding  that  the  present  age  was  fortunate  in 
possessing  such  a  model  of  faith  and  virtue. 
For  Paulinus,  being  rich  and  having  many  pos- 
sessions, by  selling  them  all  and  giving  them  to 
the  poor  according  to  the  expressed  will  of  the 
Lord,  had,  he  said,  made  possible  by  actual 
proof  what  appeared  ^impossible  of  accomplish- 
ment. What  power  and  dignity  there  were  in 
Martin's  words  and  conversation  !  How  active 
he  was,  how  practical,  and  how  prompt  and 
ready  in  solving  questions  connected  with 
Scripture  !  And  because  I  know  that  many  are 
incredulous  on  this  point, — for  indeed  I  have  met 
with  persons  who  did  not  believe  me  when  I  re- 
lated such  things,  —  I  call  to  witness  Jesus,  and 
our  common  hope  as  Christians,  that  I  never 
heard  from  any  other  lips  than  those  of  Martin 
such  exhibitions  of  knowledge  and  genius,  or 
such  specimens  of  good  and  pure  speech.  But 
yet,  how  insignificant  is  all  such  praise  when 
compared  with  the  virtues  which  he  possessed  ! 
Still,  it  is  remarkable  that'  in  a  man  who  had  no 
claim  to  be  called  learned,  even  this  attribute 
[of  high  intelligence]  was  not  wanting. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Words  cannot  describe  the  Excellences  of  Martin. 

But  now  my  book  must  be  brought  to  an  end, 
and  my  discourse  finished.  This  is  not  because 
all  that  was  worthy  of  being  said  concerning 
Martin  is  now  exhausted,  but  because  I,  just  as 
sluggish  poets  grow  less  careful  towards  the  end 
of  their  work,  give  over,  being  baffled  by  the 
immensity   of    the    matter.     For,   although  his 


LIFE    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 


17 


outward  deeds  could  in  some  sort  of  way  be  set 
forth  in  words,  no  language,  I  truly  own,  can 
ever  be  capable  of  describing  his  inner  life  and 
daily  conduct,  and  his  mind  always  bent  upon 
the  things  of  heaven.  No  one  can  adequately 
make  known  his  perseverance  and  self-mastery 
in  abstinence  and  fastings,  or  his  power  in 
watchings  and  prayers,  along  with  the  nights,  as 
well  as  days,  which  were  spent  by  him,  while  not 
a  moment  was  separated  from  the  service  of 
God,  either  for  indulging  in  ease,  or  engaging  in 
business.  But,  in  fact,  he  did  not  indulge  either 
in  food  or  sleep,  except  in  so  far  as  the  necessi- 
ties of  nature  required.  I  freely  confess  that, 
if,  as  the  saying  is,  Homer  himself  were  to  as- 
cend from  the  shades  below,  he  could  not  do 
justice  to  this  subject  in  words ;  to  such  an  ex- 
tent did  all  excellences  surpass  in  Martin  the 
possibility  of  being  embodied  in  language.  Never 
did  a  single  hour  or  moment  pass  in  which  he 
was  not  either  actually  engaged  in  prayer ;  or, 
if  it  happened  that  he  was  occupied  with  some- 
thing else,  still  he  never  let  his  mind  loose  from 
prayer.  In  truth,  just  as  it  is  the  custom  of 
blacksmiths,  in  the  midst  of  their  work  to  beat 
their  own  anvil  as  a  sort  of  relief  to  the  laborer, 
so  Martin  even  when  he  appeared  to  be  doing 
something  else,  was  still  engaged  in  prayer.  O 
truly  blessed  man  in  whom  there  was  no  guile  — 
judging  no  man,  condemning  no  man,  returning 
evil  for  evil  to  no  man  !  He  displayed  indeed 
such  marvelous  patience  in  the  endurance  of 
injuries,  that  even  when  he  was  chief1  priest,  he 
allowed  himself  to  be  wronged  by  the  lowest 
clerics  with  impunity ;  nor  did  he  either  remove 
them  from  the  office  on  account  of  such  con- 
duct, or,  as  far  as  in  him  lay,  repel  them  from  a 
place  in  his  affection. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

Wonderful  Piety  of  Martin. 

No  one  ever  saw  him  enraged,  or  excited,  or 
lamenting,  or  laughing ;  he  was  always  one  and 
the  same  :  displaying  a  kind  of  heavenly  happi- 
ness in  his  countenance,  he  seemed  to  have 
passed  the  ordinary  limits  of  human  nature. 
Never  was  there  any  word  on  his  lips  but  Christ, 


1  "  Summus  sacerdos  "  :  "  that  is,"  remarks  Hornius,  "  bishop. 
They  were  also  in  those  ages  styled  Popes  (Papae).  This  is  clear 
from  Cyprian,  Jerome,  and  others  of  a  much  later  age." 


and  never  was  there  a  feeling  in  his  heart  except 
piety,  peace,  and  tender  mercy.  Frequently,  too, 
he  used  to  weep  for  the  sins  of  those  who  showed 
themselves  his  revilers  —  those  who,  as  he  led 
his  retired  and  tranquil  life,  slandered  him  with 
poisoned  tongue  and  a  viper's  mouth.  And  truly 
we  have  had  experience  of  some  who  were  envi- 
ous of  his  virtues  and  his  life  —  who  really  hated 
in  him  what  they  did  not  see  in  themselves, 
and  what  they  had  not  power  to  imitate.  And 
—  O  wickedness  worthy  of  deepest  grief  and 
groans  !  —  some  of  his  calumniators,  although 
very  few,  some  of  his  maligners,  I  say,  were  re- 
ported to  be  no  others  than  bishops  !  Here, 
however,  it  is  not  necessary  to  name  any  one, 
although  a  good  many  of  these  people  are  still 
venting1  their  spleen  against  myself.  I  shall 
deem  it  sufficient  that,  if  any  one  of  them  reads 
this  account,  and  perceives  that  he  is  himself 
pointed  at,  he  may  have  the  grace  to  blush.  But 
if,  on  the  other  hand,  he  shows  anger,  he  will, 
by  that  very  fact,  own  that  he  is  among  those 
spoken  of,  though  all  the  time  perhaps  I  have 
been  thinking  of  some  other  person.  I  shall, 
however,  by  no  means  feel  ashamed  if  any  peo- 
ple of  that  sort  include  myself  in  their  hatred 
along  with  such  a  man  as  Martin.  I  am  quite 
persuaded  of  this,  that  the  present  little  work 
will  give  pleasure  to  all  truly  good  men.  And  I 
shall  only  say  further  that,  if  any  one  read  this 
narrative  in  an  unbelieving  spirit,  he  himself  will 
fall  into  sin.  I  am  conscious  to  myself  that  I 
have  been  induced  by  belief  in  the  facts,  and  by 
the  love  of  Christ,  to  write  these  things  ;  and 
that,  in  doing  so,  I  have  set  forth  what  is  well 
known,  and  recorded  what  is  true ;  and,  as  I 
trust,  that  man  will  have  a  reward  prepared  by 
God,  not  who  shall  read  these  things,  but  who 
shall  believe  them.2 


1  Lit.  "  are  barking  round  about." 

2  It  seems  extremely  difficult  (to  recur  to  the  point  once  more), 
after  reading  this  account  of  St.  Martin  by  Sulpitius,  to  form  any 
certain  conclusion  regarding  it.  The  writer  so  frequently  and  sol- 
emnly assures  us  of  his  good  faith,  and  there  is  such  a  verisimilitude 
about  the  style,  that  it  appears  impossible  to  accept  the  theory  of 
willful  deception  on  the  part  of  the  writer.  And  then,  he  was  so 
intimately  acquainted  with  the  subject  of  his  narrative,  that  he 
could  hardly  have  accepted  fictions  for  facts,  or  failed  in  his  estimate 
of  the  friend  he  so  much  admired  and  loved.  Altogether,  this  Life 
of  St.  Martin  seems  to  bring  before  us  one  of  the  puzzles  of  history. 
The  saint  himself  must  evidently  have  been  a  very  extraordinary 
man,  to  impress  one  of  the  talents  and  learning  of  Sulpitius  so 
remarkably  as  he  did;  but  it  is  extremely  hard  to  say  how  far  the 
miraculous  narratives,  which  enter  so  largely  into  the  account  before 
us,  were  due  to  pure  invention,  or  unconscious  hallucination.  Milner 
remarks  {Church  History,  II.  193),  "  I  should  be  ashamed,  as  well 
as  think  the  labor  ill  spent,  to  recite  the  stories  at  length  which 
Sulpitius  gives  us."  See,  on  the  other  side,  Cardinal  Newman's 
Essays  on  Miracles,  p.  127,  209,  &c. 


THE    LETTERS    OF   SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


aXKc 


LETTER    I. 


TO    EUSEBIUS. 


Against  Some  Envious  Assailants  of  Martin. 

Yesterday  a  number  of  monks  having  come 
to  me,  it  happened  that  amid  endless  fables,  and 
much  tiresome  discourse,  mention  was  made  of 
the  little  work  which  I  published  concerning  the 
life  of  that  saintly  man  Martin,  and  I  was  most 
happy  to  hear  that  it  was  being  eagerly  and  care- 
fully read  by  multitudes.  In  the  meantime,  how- 
ever, I  was  told  that  a  certain  person,  under  the 
influence  of  an  evil  spirit,  had  asked  why  Martin, 
who  was  said  to  have  raised  the  dead  and  to 
have  rescued  houses  from  the  flames,  had  him- 
self recently  become  subject  to  the  power  of  fire, 
and  thus  been  exposed  to  suffering  of  a  danger- 
ous character.  Wretched  man,  whoever  he  is, 
that  expressed  himself  thus  !  We  recognize  his 
perfidious  talk  in  the  words  of  the  Jews  of  old, 
who  reviled  the  Lord,  when  hanging  upon  the 
cross,  in  the  following  terms  :  "  He  saved  others  ; 
himself  he  cannot  save."  *  Truly  it  is  clear  that, 
whoever  be  the  person  referred  to,  if  he  had 
lived  in  those  times,  he  would  have  been  quite 
prepared  to  speak  against  the  Lord  in  these 
terms,  inasmuch  as  he  blasphemes  a  saint  of  the 
Lord,  after  a  like  fashion.  How  then,  I  ask 
thee,  whosoever  thou  art,  how  does  the  case 
stand?  Was  Martin  really  not  possessed  of 
power,  and  not  a  partaker  of  holiness,  because 
he  became  exposed  to  danger  from  fire?  O 
thou  blessed  man,  and  in  all  things  like  to  the 
Apostles,  even  in  the  reproaches  which  are  thus 
heaped  upon  thee  !  Assuredly  those  Gentiles 
are  reported  to  have  entertained  the  same  sort 
of  thought  respecting  Paul  also,  when  the  viper 
had  bitten  him,  for  they  said,  "  This  man  must 
be  a  murderer,  whom,  although  saved  from  the 
sea,  the  fates  do  not  permit  to  live."2  But  he, 
shaking  off  the  viper  into  the  fire,  suffered  no 
harm.  They,  however,  imagined  that  he  would 
suddenly  fall  down,  and  speedily  die  ;  but  when 
they  saw  that  no  harm  befell  him,  changing  their 
minds,  they  said  that  he  was  a  God.     But,  O 


1  St.  Matt,  xxvii.  42. 


2  Acts  xxviii.  4. 


thou  most  miserable  of  men,  you  ought,  even 
from  that  example  to  have  yourself  been  con- 
vinced of  your  falsity ;  so  that,  if  it  had  proved 
a  stumbling-block  to  thee  that  Martin  appeared 
touched  by  the  flame  of  fire,  you  should,  on 
the  other  hand,  have  ascribed  his  being  merely 
touched  to  his  merits  and  power,  because,  though 
surrounded  by  flames,  he  did  not  perish.  For 
acknowledge,  thou  miserable  man,  acknowledge 
what  you  seem  ignorant  of,  that  almost  all  the 
saints  have  been  more  remarkable  for3  the  dangers 
they  encountered,  than  even  for  the  virtues  they 
displayed.  I  see,  indeed,  Peter  strong  in  faith, 
walking  over  the  waves  of  the  sea,  in  opposition 
to  the  nature  of  things,  and  that  he  pressed  the 
unstable  waters  with  his  footprints.  But  not 
on  that  account  does  the  preacher  of  the  Gen- 
tiles4 seem  to  me  a  smaller  man,  whom  the 
waves  swallowed  up ;  and,  after  three  days s  and 
three  nights,  the  water  restored  him  emerging 
from  the  deep.  Nay,  I  am  almost  inclined  to 
think  that  it  was  a  greater  thing  to  have  lived  in 
the  deep,  than  to  have  walked  along  the  depths  of 
the  sea.  But,  thou  foolish  man,  you  had  not,  as 
I  suppose,  read  these  things  ;  or,  having  read 
them,  had  not  understood  them.  For  the 
blessed  Evangelist  would  not  have  recorded  in 
holy  writ  an  incident  of  that  kind  —  under  divine 
guidance  —  (except  that,  from  such  cases,  the 
human  mind  might  be  instructed  as  to  the  dan- 
gers connected  with  shipwrecks  and  serpents  !) 
and,  as  the  Apostle  relates,  who  gloried  in  his 
nakedness,  and  hunger,  and  perils  from  robbers, 
all  these  things  are  indeed  to  be  endured  in 
common  by  holy  men,  but  that  it  has  always 
been  the  chief  excellence  of  the  righteous  in 
enduring  and  conquering  such  things,  while  amid 
all  their  trials,  being  patient  and  ever  uncon- 
querable, they  overcame  them  all  the  more 
courageously,  the  heavier  was  the  burden  which 
they  had  to  bear.  Hence  this  event  which  is 
ascribed  to  the  infirmity  of  Martin  is,  in  reality, 
full  of  dignity  and  glory,  since  indeed,  being  tried 


3  "  magis  insignes  periculorum  suorum  "  :  such  is  the  construc- 
tion of  insignis  with  later  writers. 

4  This  refers  to  St.  Paul,  being  an  echo  of  the  Apostle's  own 
words  in  Rom.  xi.  13  —  eyi>  iQvuv  ojtocttoAo?. 

0  The  writer  here  supposes  that  St.  Paul  was  sunk  for  three  days 
and  three  nights  in  the  sea  —  a  mistaken  inference  from  2  Cor.  xi.  25. 
The  construction  of  the  very  long  sentence  which  soon  follows  is 
very  confused,  and  has  not  been  rigidly  followed  in  our  translation. 


LETTERS  OF  SULPITIUS  SEVERUS  (Undoubted). 


19 


by  a  most  dangerous  calamity,  he  came  forth  a 
conqueror.  But  let  no  one  wonder  that  the 
incident  referred  to  was  omitted  by  me  in  that 
treatise  which  I  wrote  concerning  his  life,  since 
in  that  very  work  I  openly  acknowledged  that  I 
had  not  embraced  all  his  acts ;  and  that  for  the 
good  reason  that,  if  I  had  been  minded  to  nar- 
rate them  all,  I  must  have  presented  an  enor- 
mous volume  to  my  readers.  And  indeed,  his 
achievments  were  not  of  so  limited  a  number 
that  they  could  all  be  comprehended  in  a  book. 
Nevertheless,  I  shall  not  leave  this  incident, 
about  which  a  question  has  arisen,  to  remain  in 
obscurity,  but  shall  relate  the  whole  affair  as  it 
occurred,  lest  I  should  appear  perchance  to  have 
intentionally  passed  over  that  which  might  be 
put  forward  in  calumniation  of  the  saintly  man. 
Martin  having,  about  the  middle  of  winter, 
come  to  a  certain  parish,6  according  to  the  usual 
custom  for  the  bishops  to  visit  the  churches  in 
the  diocese,  the  clerics  had  prepared  an  abode 
for  him  in  the  private7  part  of  the  church,  and 
had  kindled  a  large  fire  beneath  the  floor  which 
was  decayed  and  very  thin.8  They  also  erected 
for  him  a  couch  consisting  of  a  large  amount  of 
straw.  Then,  when  Martin  betook  himself  to 
rest,  he  was  annoyed  with  the  softness  of  the  too 
luxurious  bed,  inasmuch  as  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  lie  on  the  bare  ground  with  only  a  piece 
of  sackcloth  stretched  over  him.  Accordingly, 
influenced  by  the  injury  which  had,  as  it  were, 
been  done  him,  he  threw  aside  the  whole  of  the 
straw.  Now,  it  so  happened  that  part  of  the  straw 
which  he  had  thus  removed  fell  upon  the  stove. 
He  himself,  in  the  meantime,  rested,  as  was  his 
wont,  upon  the  bare  ground,  tired  out  by  his 
long  journey.  About  midnight,  the  fire  bursting 
up  through  the  stove  which,  as  I  have  said,  was 
far  from  sound,  laid  hold  of  the  dry  straw. 
Martin,  being  wakened  out  of  sleep  by  this 
unexpected  occurrence,  and  being  prevented  by 
the  pressing  danger,  but  chiefly,  as  he  afterwards 
related,  by  the  snares  and  urgency  of  the  devil, 
was  longer  than  he  ought  to  have  been  in  having 
recourse  to  the  aid  of  prayer.  For,  desiring  to 
get  outside,  he  struggled  long  and  laboriously 
with  the  bolt  by  which  he  had  secured  the  door. 
Ere  long  he  perceived  that  he  was  surrounded 
by  a  fearful  conflagration  ;  and  the  fire  had  even 
laid  hold  of  the  garment  with  which  he  was 
clothed.  At  length  recovering  his  habitual  con- 
viction that  his  safety  lay  not  in  flight,  but  in  the 
Lord,  and  seizing  the  shield  of  faith  and  prayer, 


6  "  ad  dicecesim  quandam  " :  it  seems  certain  that  diocesis  has 
here  the  meaning  of   "  parish." 

7  "in  secretario  ecclesiae":  it  is  very  difficult  to  sav  what  is 
here  meant  by  "  secretarium."  It  appears  from  Dial.  II.  1,  that 
there  might  be  two  or  more  secretario.  in  one  church. 

8  "pavimento":  this  word  usually  means  "  a  floor,"  or  "  pave- 
ment," but  some  take  it  here  to  be  the  same  as  fornax.  This, 
however,  can  hardly  be  the  case;  and  the  meaning  probably  is  that 
the  church  was  heated,  as  the  baths  were,  by  means  of  a  hypo- 
caustum,  or  flue  running  below  the  pavement. 


committing  himself  entirely  to  the  Lord,  he  lay 
down  in  the  midst  of  the  flames.  Then  truly, 
the  fire  having  been  removed  by  divine  interpo- 
sition, he  continued  to  pray  amid  a  circle  of 
flames  that  did  him  no  harm.  But  the  monks, 
who  were  before  the  door,  hearing  the  sound  of 
the  crackling  and  struggling  fire,  broke  open  the 
barred  door ;  and,  the  fire  being  extinguished, 
they  brought  forth  Martin  from  the  midst  of  the 
flames,  all  the  time  supposing  that  he  must  ere 
then  have  been  burnt  to  ashes  by  a  fire  of  so 
long  continuance.  Now,  as  the  Lord  is  my 
witness,  he  himself  related  to  me,  and  not  with- 
out groans,  confessed  that  he  was  in  this  matter 
beguiled  by  the  arts  of  the  devil ;  in  that,  when 
roused  from  sleep,  he  did  not  take  the  wise 
course  of  repelling  the  danger  by  means  of  faith 
and  prayer.  He  also  added  that  the  flames 
raged  around  him  all  the  time  that,  with  a  dis- 
tempered mind,  he  strove  to  throw  open  the 
door.  But  he  declared  that  as  soon  as  he  again 
sought  assistance  from  the  cross,  and  tried  the 
weapons  of  prayer,  the  central  flames  gave  way, 
and  that  he  then  felt  them  shedding  a  dewy 
refreshment  over  him,  after  having  just  experi- 
enced how  cruelly  they  burned  him.  Consider- 
ing all  which,  let  every  one  who  reads  this  letter 
understand  that  Martin  was  indeed  tried  by 
that  danger,  but  passed  through  it  with  true 
acceptance.a 

LETTER   II. 

TO   THE   DEACON   AURELIUS. 

Sulpitius  has  a  Vision  of  St.  Martin. 

Sulpitius  Severus  to  Aurelius  the  Deacon 
sendeth  greeting,  — 1 

After  you  had  departed  from  me  in  the  morn- 
ing, I  was  sitting  alone  in  my  cell ;  and  there 
occurred  to  me,  as  often  happens,  that  hope  of 
the  future  which  I  cherish,  along  with  a  weari- 
ness of  the  present  world,  a  terror  of  judgment, 
a  fear  of  punishment,  and,  as  a  consequence,  in- 
deed as  the  source  from  which  the  whole  train  of 
thought  had  flowed,  a  remembrance  of  my  sins, 
which  had  rendered  me  worn  and  miserable. 
Then,  after  I  had  placed  on  my  couch  my  limbs 
fatigued  with  the  anguish  of  my  mind,  sleep  crept 
upon  me,  as  frequently  happens  from  melan- 
choly; and  such  sleep,  as  it  is  always  somewhat 
light  and  uncertain  in  the  morning  hours,  so  it 
pervaded  my  members  only  in  a  hovering  and 
doubtful  manner.  Thus  it  happens,  what  does 
not  occur  in  a  different  kind  of  slumber,  that 
one  can  feel  he  is  dreaming  while  almost  awake. 
In  these  circumstances,  I  seemed  suddenly  to 
see  St.  Martin  appear  to  me  in  the  character  of 

9  Halm  here  inserts  "  vere." 

1  This  salutation  is  omitted  by  Halm. 


20 


LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS  (Undoubted). 


a  bishop,  clothed  in  a  white  robe,  with  a  coun- 
tenance as  of  fire,  with  eyes  like  stars,  and  with 
purple  hair.2  He  thus  appeared  to  me  with 
that  aspect  and  form  of  body  which  I  had 
known,  so  that  I  find  it  almost  difficult  to  say 
what  I  mean  —  he  could  not  be  steadfastly  be- 
held, though  he  could  be  clearly  recognized. 
Well,  directing  a  gentle  smile  towards  me,  he 
held  out  in  his  right  hand  the  small  treatise 
which  I  had  written  concerning  his  life.  I,  for 
my  part,  embraced  his  sacred  knees,  and  begged 
for  his  blessing  according  to  custom.  Upon 
this,  I  felt  his  hand  placed  on  my  head  with  the 
sweetest  touch,  while,  amid  the  solemn  words  of 
benediction,  he  repeated  again  and  again  the 
name  of  the  cross  so  familiar  to  his  lips.  Ere 
long,  while  my  eyes  were  earnestly  fixed  upon 
him,  and  when  I  could  not  satisfy  myself  with 
gazing  upon  his  countenance,  he  was  suddenly 
taken  away  from  me  and  raised  on  high.  At 
last,  having  passed  through  the  vast  expanse  of 
the  air,  while  my  straining  eyes  followed  him 
ascending  in  a  rapidly  moving  cloud,  he  could 
no  longer  be  seen  by  me  gazing  after  him.  And 
not  long  after,  I  saw  the  holy  presbyter  Clarus, 
a  disciple  of  Martin's  who  had  lately  died,  as- 
cend in  the  same  way  as  I  had  seen  his  master. 
I,  impudently  desiring  to  follow,  while  I  aim  at 
and  strive  after  such  lofty  steps,  suddenly  wake 
up  ;  and,  being  roused  from  sleep,  I  had  begun 
to  rejoice  over  the  vision,  when  a  boy,  a  servant 
in  the  family,  enters  to  me  with  a  countenance 
sadder  than  is  usual  with  one  who  gives  utter- 
ance to  his  grief  in  words.  "What,"  I  enquire 
of  him,  "  do  you  wish  to  tell  me  with  so  melan- 
choly an  aspect?"  "Two  monks,"  he  replied, 
"  have  just  been  here  from  Tours,  and  they  have 
brought  word  that  Martin  is  dead."  I  confess 
that  I  was  cut  to  the  heart ;  and  bursting  into 
tears,  I  wept  most  abundantly.  Nay,  even  now, 
as  I  write  these  things  to  you,  brother,  my  tears 
are  flowing,  and  I  find  no  consolation  for  my  all 
but  unbearable  sorrow.  And  I  should  wish  you, 
when  this  news  reaches  you,  to  be  a  partaker  in  my 
grief,  as  you  were  a  sharer  with  me  in  his  love. 
Come  then,  I  beg  of  you,  to  me  without  delay, 
that  we  may  mourn  in  common  him  whom  in 
common  we  love.  And  yet  I  am  well  aware 
that  such  a  man  ought  not  to  be  mourned  over, 
to  whom,  after  his  victory  and  triumph  over  the 
world,  there  has  now  at  last  been  given  the 
crown  of  righteousness.  Nevertheless,  I  cannot 
so  command  myself  as  to  keep  from  grieving. 
I  have,  no  doubt,  sent  on  before  me  one  who 
will  plead  my  cause  in  heaven,  but  I  have,  at 
the  same  time,  lost  my  great  source  of  con- 
solation in  this  present  life ;  yet  if  grief  would 
yield  to  the  influence  of  reason,  I  certainly  ought 


2  "  crine  purpureo  ' 
which  is  intended. 


it  is   impossible   to   tell   the   exact  color 


to  rejoice.  For  he  is  now  mingling  among  the 
Apostles  and  Prophets,  and  (with  all  respect  for 
the  saints  on  high  be  it  said)  he  is  second  to 
no  one  in  that  assembly  of  the  righteous  as  I 
firmly  hope,  believe,  and  trust,  being  joined  es- 
pecially to  those  who  washed  their  robes  in  the 
blood  of  the3  Lamb.  He  now  follows  the  Lamb 
as  his  guide,  free  from  all  spot  of  defilement. 
For  although  the  character4  of  our  times  could 
not  ensure  him  the  honor  of  martyrdom,  yet  he 
will  not  remain  destitute  of  the  glory  of  a  martyr, 
because  both  by  vow  and  virtues  he  was  alike 
able  and  willing  to  be  a  martyr.  But  if  he  had 
been  permitted,  in  the  times  of  Nero  and  of 
Decius,5  to  take  part  in  the  struggle  which  then 
went  on,  I  take  to  witness  the  God  of  heaven 
and  earth  that  he  would  freely  have  submitted6 
to  the  rack  of  torture,  and  readily  surrendered 
himself  to  the  flames  :  yea,  worthy  of  being  com- 
pared to  the  illustrious  Hebrew  youths,  amid  the 
circling  flames,  and  though  in  the  very  midst  of 
the  furnace,  he  would  have  sung  a  hymn  of  the 
Lord.  But  if  perchance  it  had  pleased  the  per- 
secutor to  inflict  upon  him  the  punishment  which 
Isaiah  endured,  he  would  never  have  shown 
himself  inferior  to  the  prophet,  nor  would  have 
shrunk  from  having  his  members  torn  in  pieces 
by  saws  and  swords.  And  if  impious  fury  had 
preferred  to  drive  the  blessed  man  over  precip- 
itous rocks  or  steep  mountains,  I  maintain  that, 
clinging7  to  the  testimony  of  truth  he  would 
willingly  have  fallen.  But  if,  after  the  example 
of  the  teacher  of  the  Gentiles,8  as  indeed  often 
happened,  he  had  been  included  among  other 
victims  who  were  condemned9  to  die  by  the 
sword,  he  would  have  been  foremost  to  urge  on 
the  executioner  to  his  work  that  he  might  obtain 
the  crown 10  of  blood.  And,  in  truth,  far  from 
shrinking  from  a  confession  of  the  Lord,  in  the 
face  of  all  those  penalties  and  punishments, 
which  frequently  prove  too  much  for  human  in- 
firmity, he  would  have  stood  so  immovable  as  to 
have  smiled  with  joy  and  gladness  over  the  suf- 
ferings and  torments  he  endured,  whatever 
might  have  been  the  tortures  inflicted  upon 
him.  But  although  he  did  in  fact  suffer  none 
of  these  things,  yet  he  fully  attained  to  the 
honor  of  martyrdom  without  shedding  his  blood. 
For  what  agonies  of  human  sufferings  did  he  not 
endure  in  behalf  of  the  hope  of  eternal  life,  in 
hunger,  in  watchings,  in  nakedness,  in  fastings, 


3  Compare  Rev.  vii.  14. 

4  As  being  peaceful,  the  imperial  power  having  now  passed  into 
the  hands  of  Christians. 

B  Roman  emperor,  a.d.  249-251 ;  his  full  name  was  C.  Messius 
Quintus  Trajanus  Decius. 

0  "  equileum  ascendisset ":  lit.  "would  have  mounted  the 
wooden  horse,"  an  instrument  of  torture. 

"  Some  read  "  perhibeo  confisus  testimonium  veritati,"  and 
others  "  veritatis";  in  either  case,  the  construction  is  confused  and 
irregular. 

8  St.  Paul  is  referred  to:   tradition  bears  that  he  was  beheaded. 

9  A  late  use  of  the  verb  defiutare. 

10  i.e.  martyrdom,  "  palmam  sanguinis." 


LETTERS  OF  SULPITIUS  SEVERUS  (Undoubted). 


2  I 


in  reproachings  of  the  malignant,  in  persecutions 
of  the  wicked,  in  care  for  the  weak,  in  anxiety  for 
those  in  danger  ?  For  who  ever  suffered  but  Mar- 
tin suffered  along  with  him?  Who  was  made  to 
stumble  and  he  burnt  not?  Who  perished,  and  he 
did  not  mourn  deeply  ?  Besides  those  daily  strug- 
gles which  he  carried  on  against  the  various  con- 
flicts with  human  and  spiritual  wickedness,  while 
invariably,  as  he  was  assailed  with  divers  temp- 
tations, there  prevailed  in  his  case  fortitude  in 
conquering,  patience  in  waiting,  and  placidity  in 
enduring.  O  man,  truly  indescribable  in  piety, 
mercy,  love,  which  daily  grows  cold  even  in 
holy  men  through  the  coldness  of  the  world,  but 
which  in  his  case  increased  onwards  to  the  end, 
and  endured  from  day  to  day  !  I,  for  my  part, 
had  the  happiness  of  enjoying  this  grace  in  him 
even  in  an  eminent  degree,  for  he  loved  me  in  a 
special  manner,  though  I  was  far  from  meriting 
such  affection.  And,  on  the  remembrance,  yet 
again  my  tears  burst  forth,  while  groans  issue 
from  the  bottom  of  my  heart.  In  what  man 
shall  I  for  the  future  find  such  repose  for  my 
spirit  as  I  did  in  him?  and  in  whose  love  shall 
I  enjoy  like  consolation?  Wretched  being  that 
I  am,  sunk  in  affliction,  can  I  ever,  if  life  be 
spared  me,  cease  to  lament  that  I  have  sur- 
vived Martin  ?  Shall  there  in  future  be  to  me 
any  pleasure  in  life,  or  any  day  or  hour  free 
from  tears  ;  or  can  I  ever,  my  dearest  brother, 
make  mention  of  him  to  you  without  lamenta- 
tion? And  yet,  in  conversing  with  you,  can  I 
ever  talk  of  any  other  subject  than  him?  But 
why  do  I  stir  you  up  to  tears  and  lamentations  ? 
So  I  now  desire  you  to  be  comforted,  although 
I  am  unable  to  console  myself.  He  will  not  be 
absent  from  us  ;  believe  me,  he  will  never,  never 
forsake  us,  but  will  be  present  with  us  as  we 
discourse  regarding  him,  and  will  be  near  to  us 
as  we  pray ;  and  the  happiness  which  he  has 
even  to-day  deigned  to  bestow,  even  that  of 
seeing  him  in  his  glory,  he  will  frequently  in 
future  afford  ;  and  he  will  protect  us,  as  he  did 
but  a  little  while  ago,  with  his  unceasing  bene- 
diction. Then  again,  according  to  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  vision,  he  showed  that  heaven  was 
open  to  those  following  him,  and  taught  us  to 
what  we  ought  to  follow  him  ;  he  instructed  us 
to  what  objects  our  hope  should  be  directed, 
and  to  what  attainment  our  mind  should  be 
turned.  Yet,  my  brother,  what  is  to  be  done  ? 
For,  as  I  am  myself  well  aware,  I  shall  never  be 
able  to  climb  that  difficult  ascent,  and  penetrate 
into  those  blessed  regions.  To  such  a  degree 
does  a  miserable  burden  press  me  down ;  and 
while  I  cannot,  through  the  load  of  sin  which 
overwhelms  me,  secure  an  ascent  to  heaven,  the 
cruel  pressure  rather  sinks  me  in  my  misery  to 
the  place  of  despair.11     Nevertheless,  hope  re- 


mains, one  last  and  solitary  hope,  that,  what  I 
cannot  obtain  of  myself,  I  may,  at  any  rate,  be 
thought  worthy  of,  through  the  prayers  of  Martin 
in  my  behalf.  But  why,  brother,  should  I  longer 
occupy  your  time  with  a  letter  which  has  turned 
out  so  garrulous,  and  thus  delay  you  from  coming 
to  me?  At  the  same  time,  my  page  being  now 
filled,  can  admit  no  more.  This,  however,  was 
my  object  in  prolonging  my  discourse  to  a  some- 
what undue  extent,  that,  since  this  letter  con- 
veys to  you  a  message  of  sorrow,  it  might  also 
furnish  you  with  consolation,  through  my  sort  of 
friendly  conversation  with  you. 


LETTER    III. 

TO    BASSULA,    HIS    MOTHER-IN-LAW. 

How  St.  Martin  passed  from  this  Life  to  Life 
Eternal. 

Sulpitius  Severus  to  Bassula,  his  venerable 
parent,  sendeth  greeting. 

If  it  were  lawful  that  parents  should  be  sum- 
moned to  court  by  their  children,  clearly  I  might 
drag  you  with  a  righteous  thong1  before  the  tri- 
bunal of  the  praetor,  on  a  charge  of  robbery  and 
plunder.  For  why  should  I  not  complain  of  the 
injury  which  I  have  suffered  at  your  hands? 
You  have  left  me  no  little  bit  of  writing  at  home, 
no  book,  not  even  a  letter  —  to  such  a  degree 
do  you  play  the  thief  with  all  such  things  and 
publish  them  to  the  world.  If  I  write  anything 
in  familiar  style  to  a  friend  ;  if,  as  I  amuse  my- 
self I  dictate  anything  with  the  wish  at  the  same 
time  that  it  should  be  kept  private,  all  such  things 
seem  to  reach  you  almost  before  they  have  been 
written  or  spoken.  Surely  you  have  my  secre- 
taries2 in  your3  debt,  since  through  them  any 
trifles  I  compose  are  made  known  to  you.  And 
yet  I  cannot  be  moved  with  anger  against  them 
if  they  really  obey  you,  and  have  invaded  my 
rights  under  the  special  influence  of  your  gener- 
osity to  them,  and  ever  bear  in  mind  that  they 
belong  to  you  rather  than  to  me.  Yes,  thou 
alone  art  the  culprit  —  thou  alone  art  to  blame  — 
inasmuch  as  you  both  lay  your  snares  for  me, 
and  cajole  them  with  your  trickery,  so  that  with- 
out making  any4  selection,  pieces  written  famil- 
iarly, or  let  out  of  hand  without  care,  are  sent 
to  thee  quite  unelaborated  and  unpolished.  For, 
to  say  nothing  about  other  writings,  I  beg  to  ask 
how  that  letter  could  reach  you  so  speedily,  which 
I  recently  wrote  to  Aurelius  the  Deacon.     For, 


1  Instead  of  "  justo  loro,"  Halm  reads,  "  justo  dolore,"  i.e.  "  with 
just  resentment." 

2  "notarios":    shorthand  writers,  who  wrote  from  dictation. 

3  Halm  here  reads  "  obarratos,"  with  what  sense  I  know  not: 
the  reading  "  ob«eratos,"  followed  in  the  text  seems  to  yield  a  very- 
good  meaning. 

4  The  reading  "  sine  dilectu  ullo,"  adopted  by  Halm,  seems  pref- 
erable to  the  old  reading,  "  sine  delicto  ullo." 


22 


LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS  (Undoubted). 


as  I  was  situated  at  Toulouse,5  while  you  .were 
dwelling  at  Treves,  and  were  so  far  distant  from 
your  native  land,  owing  to  the  anxiety  felt  on 
account  of  your  son,  what  opportunity,  I  should 
like  to  know,  did  you  avail  yourself  of,  to  get 
hold  of  that  familiar6  epistle?  For  I  have  re- 
ceived your  letter  in  which  you  write  that  I 
ought  in  the  same  epistle  in  which  I  made  men- 
tion of  the  death  of  our  master,  Martin,  to  have 
described  the  manner  in  which  that  saintly  man 
left  this  world.  As  if,  indeed,  I  had  either  given 
forth  that  epistle  with  the  view  of  its  being  read 
by  any  other  except  him  to  whom  it  purported 
to  be  sent ;  or  as  if  I  were  fated  to  undertake 
so  great  a  work  as  that  all  things  which  should 
be  known  respecting  Martin  are  to  be  made 
public  through  me  particularly  as  the  writer. 
Therefore,  if  you  desire  to  learn  anything  con- 
cerning the  end  of  the  saintly  bishop,  you  should 
direct  your  enquiries  rather  to  those  who  were 
present  when  his  death  occurred.  I  for  my  part 
have  resolved  to  write  nothing  to  you  lest  you 
publish  me7  everywhere.  Nevertheless  if  you 
pledge  your  word  that  you  will  read  to  no  one 
what  I  send  you,  I  shall  satisfy  your  desire  in  a 
few  words.  Accordingly  I  shall  communicate8 
to  you  the  following  particulars  which  are  com- 
prised within  my  own  knowledge. 

I  have  to  state,  then,  that  Martin  was  aware 
of  the  period  of  his  own  death  long  before  it 
occurred,  and  told  the  brethren  that  his  depart- 
ure from  the  body  was  at  hand.  In  the  mean- 
time, a  reason  sprang  up  which  led  him  to  visit 
the  church  at  Condate.a  For,  as  the  clerics  of 
that  church  were  at  variance  among  themselves, 
Martin,  wishing  to  restore  peace,  although  he 
well  knew  that  the  end  of  his  own  days  was  at 
hand,  yet  he  did  not  shrink  from  undertaking 
the  journey,  with  such  an  object  in  view.  He 
did,  in  fact,  think  that  this  would  be  an  excellent 
crown  to  set  upon  his  virtues,  if  he  should  leave 
behind  him  peace  restored  to  a  church.  Thus, 
then,  having  set  out  with  that  very  numerous 
and  holy  crowd  of  disciples  who  usually  accom- 
panied him,  he  perceives  in  a  river  a  number  of 
water-fowl  busy  in  capturing  fishes,  and  notices 
that  a  voracious  appetite  was  urging  them  on  to 
frequent  seizures  of  their  prey.  "  This,"  ex- 
claimed he,  "  is  a  picture  of  how  the  demons 
act :   they  lie  in  wait  for  the  unwary  and  capture 


5  The  identity  of  Tolosa,  mentioned  in  the  text  with  the  modern 
Toulouse,  is  uncertain. 

c  Of  course,  this  is  all  jocular,  and  shows  the  best  relations  as 
existing  between  Sulpitius  and  his  mother-in-law. 

7  There  is  clearly  some  affectation  in  the  horror  which  Sulpitius 
expresses  in  this  and  other  passages  at  the  thought  of  his  writings 
being  published.  It  is  obvious  that  he  derived  gratification  from  the 
fact  of  their  being  widely  read. 

8  "  praestabo  his  participem- " :  the  construction  is  peculiar,  but 
the  meaning  is  obvious. 

9  There  were  several  towns  of  this  name  in  Gaul.  The  one 
probably  here  referred  to  was  on  the  road  from  Augustodunum 
(Autun)  to  Paris.  It  corresponds  to  the  modern  Cosne,  at  the  junc- 
tion of  the  stream  Nonain  with  the  river  Loire. 


them  before  they  know  it :  they  devour  their 
victims  when  taken,  and  they  can  never  be  satis- 
fied with  what  they  have  devoured."  Then 
Martin,  with  a  miraculous  10  power  in  his  words, 
commands  the  birds  to  leave  the  pool  in  which 
they  were  swimming,  and  to  betake  themselves 
to  dry  and  desert  regions  ;  .using  with  respect  to 
those  birds  that  very  same  authority  with  which 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  put  demons  to 
flight.  Accordingly,  gathering  themselves  to- 
gether, all  those  birds  formed  a  single  body,  and 
leaving  the  river,  they  made  for  the  mountains 
and  woods,  to  no  small  wonder  of  many  who 
perceived  such  power  in  Martin  that  he  could 
even  rule  the  birds.  Having  then  delayed  some 
time  in  that  village  or  church  to  which  he  had 
gone,  and  peace  having  been  restored  among 
the  clerics,  when  he  was  now  meditating  a  re- 
turn to  his  monastery,  he  began  suddenly  to 
fail  in  bodily  strength,  and,  assembling  the 
brethren,  he  told  them  that  he  was  on  the  point 
of  dissolution.  Then  indeed,  sorrow  and  grief 
took  possession  of  all,  and  there  was  but  one 
voice  of  them  lamenting,  and  saying :  "  AYhy, 
dear  father,  will  you  leave  us?  Or  to  whom 
can  you  commit  us  in  our  desolation  ?  Fierce 
wolves  will  speedily  attack  thy  flock,  and  who, 
when  the  shepherd  has  been  smitten,  will  save 
us u  from  their  bites?  We  know,  indeed,  that 
you  desire  to  be  with  Christ  ;  but  thy  reward 
above  is  safe,  and  will  not  be  diminished  by 
being  delayed  ;  rather  have  pity  upon  us,  whom 
you  are  leaving  desolate."  Then  Martin,  affected 
by  these  lamentations,  as  he  was  always,  in  truth, 
full 12  of  compassion,  is  said  to  have  burst  into 
tears ;  and,  turning  to  the  Lord,  he  replied  to 
those  weeping  round  him  only  in  the  following 
words,  "  O  Lord,  if  I  am  still  necessary  to 
thy  people,  I  do  not  shrink  from  toil :  thy  will 
be  done."  Thus  hovering  as  he  did  between13 
desire  and  love,  he  almost  doubted  which  he 
preferred  ;  for  he  neither  wished  to  leave  us, 
nor  to  be  longer  separated  from  Christ.  How- 
ever, he  placed  no  weight  upon  his  own  wishes, 
nor  reserved  anything  to  his  own  will,  but  com- 
mitted himself  wholly  to  the  will  and  power  of 
the  Lord.  Do  you  not  think  you  hear  him 
speaking  in  the  following  few  words  which  I  re- 
peat? "Terrible,  indeed,  Lord,  is  the  struggle 
of  bodily  warfare,  and  surely  it  is  now  enough 
that  I  have  continued  the  fight  till  now ;  but,  if 
thou  dost  command  me  still  to  persevere  in  the 
same  toil  for  the  defense  M  of  thy  flock,  I  do  not 
refuse,  nor  do  I  plead  against  such  an  appoint- 


10  "  potenti  virtute  verborum":  Halm  reads  simply  "  potenli 
verbo." 

11  A  singular  and  obviously  corrupt  reading  is  "  quis  eos  a 
morsibus  nostris  prohibebit?"  Halm's  reading  has  been  followed 
in  the  text. 

12  Lit.  "  as  he  always  flowed  with  bowels  of  mercy  in  the  Lord." 

13  "  spes  "  seems  here  to  mean  "  longing  of  heart." 

14  "pro  castris  tuorum." 


LETTERS  OF  SULPITIUS  SEVERUS  (Undoubted). 


23 


ment  my  declining  years.  Wholly  given  to 
thee,  I  will  fulfill  whatever  duties  thou  dost  as- 
sign me,  and  I  will  serve  under  thy  standard  as 
long  as  thou  shalt  prescribe.  Yea,  although  re- 
lease is  sweet  to  an  old  man  after  lengthened 
toil,  yet  my  mind  is  a  conqueror  over  my  years, 
and  I  have  no  desire  15  to  yield  to  old  age.  But 
if  now  thou  art  merciful  to  my  many  years, 
good,  O  Lord,  is  thy  will  to  me ;  and  thou  thy- 
self wilt  guard  over  those  for  whose  safety  I  fear." 
O  man,  whom  no  language  can  describe,  uncon- 
quered  by  toil,  and  unconquerable  even  by 
death,  who  didst  show  no  personal  preference 
for  either  alternative,  and  who  didst  neither  fear 
to  die  nor  refuse  to  live  !  Accordingly,  though 
he  was  for  some  days  under  the  influence  of  a 
strong  fever,  he  nevertheless  did  not  abandon 
the  work  of  God.  Continuing  in  supplications 
and  watchings  through  whole  nights,  he  com- 
pelled his  worn-out  limbs  to  do  service  to  his 
spirit  as  he  lay  on  his  glorious 1G  couch  upon 
sackcloth  and  ashes.  And  when  his  disciples 
begged  of  him  that  at  least  he  should  allow 
some  common  straw  to  be  placed  beneath  him, 
he  replied  :  "  It  is  not  fitting  that  a  Christian 
should  die  except  among  ashes  ;  and  I  have 
sinned  if  I  leave  you  a  different  example." 
However,  with  his  hands  and  eyes  steadfastly 
directed  towards  heaven,  he  never  released  his 
unconquerable  spirit  from  prayer.  And  on 
being  asked  by  the  presbyters  who  had  then 
gathered  round  him,  to  relieve  his  body  a  little 
by  a  change  of  side,  he  exclaimed  :  "  Allow  me, 
dear  brother,  to  fix  my  looks  rather  on  heaven 
than  on  earth,  so  that  my  spirit  which  is  just 
about  to  depart  on  its  own  journey  may  be  di- 
rected towards  the  Lord."  Having  spoken 
these  words,  he  saw  the  devil  standing  close  at 
hand,  and  exclaimed  :  "  Why  do  you  stand  here, 
thou  bloody  monster?  Thou  shalt  find  nothing 
in  me,  thou  deadly  one  :  Abraham's  bosom  is 
about  to  receive  me." 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  his  spirit  fled  ;  and 
those  who  were  there  present  have  testified  to 
us  that  they  saw  his  face  as  if  it  had  been  the 
face  u  of  an  angel.  His  limbs  too  appeared  white 
as  snow,  so  that  people  exclaimed,  "  Who  would 
ever  believe  that  man  to  be  clothed  in  sackcloth, 
or  who  would  imagine  that  he  was  enveloped 
with  ashes? "  For  even  then  he  presented  such 
an  appearance,  as  if  he  had  been  manifested  in 


13  Or,  "I  am  not  one  to  yield,"  nesci'us  cedere. 

16  "  nobili   illo   strata  suo";    nobilis   in  one  sense,   though  so 
humble  in  another. 

17  There  is  a  great  variety  of  readings  here;   Halm  has  been 
followed  in  the  text. 


the  glory  of  the  future  resurrection,  and  with 
the  nature  of  a  body  which  had  been  changed. 
But  it  is  hardly  credible  what  a  multitude  of 
human  beings  assembled  at  the  performance  of 
his  funeral  rites  :  the  whole  city  poured  forth 
to  meet  his  body ;  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  dis- 
trict and  villages,  along  with  many  also  from  the 
neighboring  cities,  attended.  O  how  great  was 
the  grief  of  all  !  how  deep  the  lamentations  in 
particular  of  the  sorrowing  monks  !  They  are 
said  to  have  assembled  on  that  day  almost  to 
Ae  number  of  two  thousand,  —  a  special  glory 
of  Martin,  —  through  his  example  so  numerous 
plants  had  sprung  up  for  the  service  of  the  Lord. 
Undoubtedly  the  shepherd  was  then  driving  his 
own  flocks  before  him  —  the  pale  crowds  of  that 
saintly  multitude  —  bands  arrayed  in  cloaks, 
either  old  men  whose  life-labor  was  finished,  or 
young  soldiers  who  had  just  taken  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  Christ.  Then,  too,  there  was  the 
choir  of  virgins,  abstaining  out  of  modesty  from 
weeping ;  and  with  what  holy  joy  did  they  con- 
ceal the  fact  of  their  affliction  !  No  doubt  faith 
would  prevent  the  shedding  of  tears,  yet  affec- 
tion forced  out  groans.  For  there  was  as  sacred 
an  exultation  over  the  glory  to  which  he  had 
attained,  as  there  was  a  pious  sorrow  on  account 
of  his  death.  One  would  have  been  inclined  to 
pardon  those  who  wept,  as  well  as  to  congratu- 
late those  who  rejoiced,  while  each  single  per- 
son preferred  that  he  himself  should  grieve,  but 
that  another  should  rejoice.  Thus  then  this 
multitude,  singing  hymns  of  heaven,  attended 
the  body  of  the  sainted  man  onwards  to  the 
place  of  sepulture.  Let  there  be  compared  with 
this  spectacle,  I  will  not  say  the  worldly 18  pomp 
of  a  funeral,  but  even  of  a  triumph  ;  and  what 
can  be  reckoned  similar  to  the  obsequies  of 
Martin?  Let  your  worldly  great  men  lead  before 
their  chariots  captives  with  their  hands  bound 
behind  their  backs.  Those  accompanied  the  body 
of  Martin  who,  under  his  guidance,  had  overcome 
the  world.  Let  madness  honor  these  earthly 
warriors  with  the  united  praises  of  nations. 
Martin  is  praised  with  the  divine  psalms,  Martin 
is  honored  in  heavenly  hymns.  Those  worldly 
men,  after  their  triumphs  here  are  over,  shall  be 
thrust  into  cruel  Tartarus,  while  Martin  is  joy- 
fully received  into  the  bosom  of  Abraham.  Mar- 
tin, poor  and  insignificant  on  earth,  has  a  rich 
entrance  granted  him  into  heaven.  From  that 
blessed  region,  as  I  trust,  he  looks  upon  me,  as 
my  guardian,  while  I  am  writing  these  things, 
and  upon  you  while  you  read  them.19 

18  Or,  "  the  pomp  of  a  worldly  funeral." 

19  Halm  inserts  this  last  sentence  in  brackets. 


THE    DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


o*»<c 


DIALOGUE   I. 

CONCERNING  THE  VIRTUES  OF  THE  MONKS    OF  THE 
EAST. 

CHAPTER    I. 

When  I  and  a  Gallic  friend  had  assembled  in 
one  place,  this  Gaul  being  a  man  very  dear  to 
me,  both  on  account  of  his  remembrance  of 
Martin  (for  he  had  been  one  of  his  disciples), 
and  on  account  of  his  own  merits,  my  friend 
Postumianus  joined  us.  He  had  just,  on  my 
account,  returned  from  the  East,  to  which,  leav- 
ing his  native  country,  he  had  gone  three  years 
before.  Having  embraced  this  most  affection- 
ate friend,  and  kissed  both  his  knees  and  his 
feet,  we  were  for  a  moment  or  two,  as  it  were, 
astounded ;  and,  shedding  mutual  tears  of  joy, 
we  walked  about  a  good  deal.  But  by  and  by 
we  sat  down  on  our  garments  of  sackcloth  laid 
upon  the  ground.  Then  Postumianus,  directing 
his  looks  towards  me  is  the  first  to  speak,  and 
says,  — 

"  When  I  was  in  the  remote  parts  of  Egypt,  I 
felt  a  desire  to  go  on  as  far  as  the  sea.  I  there 
met  with  a  merchant  vessel,  which  was  ready  to 
set  sail  with  the  view  of  making  for  Narbonne.1 
The  same  night  you  seemed  in  a  dream  to  stand 
beside  me,  and  laying  hold  of  me  with  your 
hand,  to  lead  me  away  that  I  should  go  on 
board  that  ship.  Ere  long,  when  the  dawn 
dispersed  the  darkness,  and  when  I  rose  up  in 
the  place  in  which  I  had  been  resting,  as  I 
revolved  my  dream  in  my  mind,  I  was  suddenly 
seized  with  such  a  longing  after  you,  that  with- 
out delay  I  went  on  board  the  ship.  Landing 
on  the  thirtieth  day  at  Marseilles,  I  came  on 
from  that  and  arrived  here  on  the  tenth  day  — 
so  prosperous  a  voyage  was  granted  to  my  duti- 
ful desire  of  seeing  you.  Do  thou  only,  for 
whose  sake  I  have  sailed  over  so  many  seas,  and 
have  traversed  such  an  extent  of  land,  yield 
yourself  over  to  me  to  be  embraced  and  enjoyed 
apart  from  all  others." 

"I  truly,"  said  I,  "while  you  were  still  stay- 


1  Narbona,  more  commonly  called  Narbo  Martius;  the  modern 
Narbonne. 


ing  in  Egypt,  was  ever  holding  fellowship  with 
you  in  my  mind  and  thoughts,  and  affection  for 
you  had  full  possession  of  me  as  I  meditated 
upon  you  day  and  night.  Surely  then,  you  can- 
not imagine  that  I  will  now  fail  for  a  single 
moment  to  gaze  with  delight  upon  you,  as  I 
hang  upon  your  lips.  I  will  listen  to  you,  I  will 
converse  with  you,  while  no  one  at  all  is  admitted 
to  our  retirement,  which  this  remote  cell  of 
mine  furnishes  to  us.  For,  as  I  suppose,  you 
will  not  take  amiss  the  presence  of  this  friend 
of  ours,  the  Gaul,  who,  as  you  perceive,  rejoices 
with  his  whole  heart  over  this  arrival  of  yours, 
even  as  I  do  myself." 

"Quite  right,"  said  Postumianus,  "that  Gaul 
will  certainly  be  retained  in  our  company  ;  who, 
although  I  am  but  little  acquainted  with  him, 
yet  for  this  very  reason  that  he  is  greatly  beloved 
by  you,  cannot  fail  also  to  be  dear  to  me.  This 
must  especially  be  the  case,  since  he  is  of  the 
school  of  Martin ;  nor  will  I  grudge,  as  you 
desire,  to  talk  with  you  in  connected  discourse, 
since  I  came  hither  for  this  very  purpose,  that 
I  should,  even  at  the  risk  of  being  tedious, 
respond  to  the  desire  of  my  dear  Sulpitius  "  — 
and  in  so  speaking  he  affectionately  took  hold 
of  me  with  both  his  hands. 


CHAPTER   II. 

"Truly,"  said  I,  "you  have  clearly  proved 
how  much  a  sincere  love  can  accomplish,  inas- 
much as,  for  my  sake,  you  have  traveled  over  so 
many  seas,  and  such  an  extent  of  land,  journey- 
ing, so  to  speak,  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  in 
the  East  to  where  he  sets  in  the  West.  Come, 
then,  because  we  are  here  in  a  retired  spot  by 
ourselves,  and  not  being  otherwise  occupied, 
feel  it  our  duty  to  attend  to  your  discourse, 
come,  I  pray  thee,  relate  to  us  the  whole  history 
of  your  wanderings.  Tell  us,  if  you  please,  how 
the  faith  of  Christ  is  flourishing  in  the  East; 
what  peace  the  saints  enjoy ;  what  are  the  cus- 
toms of  the  monks  ;  and  with  what  signs  and 
miracles  Christ  is  working  in  his  servants.  For 
assuredly,  because  in  this  region  of  ours  and 
amid  the  circumstances  in  which  we  are  placed, 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


25 


life  itself  has  become  a  weariness  to  us,  we  shall 
gladly  hear  from  you,  if  life  is  permitted  to 
Christians  even  in  the  desert." 

In  reply  to  these  words,  Postumianus  declares, 
"  I  shall  do  as  I  see  you  desire.  But  I  beg  you 
first  to  tell  me,  whether  all  those  persons  whom 
I  left  here  as  priests,  continue  the  same  as  I 
knew  them  before  taking  my  departure." 

Then  I  exclaim,  "  Forbear,  I  beseech  thee, 
to  make  any  enquiry  on  such  points,  which  you 
either,  I  think,  know  as  well  as  I  do,  or  if  you 
are  ignorant  of  them,  it  is  better  that  you  should 
hear  nothing  regarding  them.  I  cannot,  how- 
ever, help  saying,  that  not  only  are  those,  of 
whom  you  enquire,  no  better  than  they  were 
when  you  knew  them,  but  even  that  one  man, 
who  was  formerly  a  great  friend  of  mine,  and  in 
whose  affection  I  was  wont  to  find  some  conso- 
lation from  the  persecutions  of  the  rest,  has 
shown  himself  more  unkind  towards  me  than  he 
ought  to  have  been.  However,  I  shall  not  say 
anything  harsher  regarding  him,  both  because  I 
once  esteemed  him  as  a  friend,  and  loved  him 
even  when  he  was  deemed  my  enemy.  I  shall 
only  add  that  while  I  was  silently  meditating  on 
these  things  in  my  thoughts,  this  source  of  grief 
deeply  afflicted  me,  that  I  had  almost  lost  the 
friendship  of  one  who  was  both  a  wise  and  a 
religious  man.  But  let  us  turn  away  from  these 
topics  which  are  full  of  sorrow,  and  let  us  rather 
listen  to  you,  according  to  the  promise  which 
you  gave  some  time  ago." 

"  Let  it  be  so,"  exclaimed  Postumianus.  And 
on  his  saying  this,  we  all  kept  silence,  while, 
moving  his  robe  of  sackcloth,  on  which  he  had 
sat  down,  a  little  nearer  me,  he  thus  began. 


CHAPTER   III. 

"  Three  years  ago,  Sulpitius,  at  which  time, 
leaving  this  neighborhood,  I  bade  thee  farewell, 
after  setting  sail  from  Narbonne,  on  the  fifth  day 
we  entered  a  port  of  Africa :  so  prosperous,  by 
the  will  of  God,  had  been  the  voyage.  I  had 
in  my  mind  a  great  desire  to  go  to  Carthage,  to 
visit  those  localities  connected  with  the  saints, 
and,  above  all,  to  worship  at  the  tomb1  of  the 
martyr  Cyprian.  On  the  fifth  day  we  returned 
to  the  harbor,  and  launched  forth  into  the  deep. 
Our  destination  was  Alexandria ;  but  as  the 
south  wind  was  against  us,  we  were  almost  driven 
upon  the  Syrtis ; 2  the  cautious  sailors,  however, 
guarding  against  this,  stopped  the  ship  by  cast- 
ing anchor.     The  continent  of  Africa  then  lay 

1  "  Ad  sepulchrum  Cypriani  martyris  adorare." 
-  This  was  probably  the  Syrtis  Minor,  a  dangerous  sandbank  in 
the  sea  on  the  northern  coast  of  Africa;   it  is  now  known  as  the  Gulf 
of  Cabes.     The  Syrtis  Major  lay  farther  to  the  east,  and  now  bears 
the  lame  of  the  Gulf  of  Sidra. 


before  our  eyes  ;  and,  landing  on  it  in  boats, 
when  we  perceived  that  the  whole  country  round 
was  destitute  of  human  cultivation,  I  penetrated 
farther  inland,  for  the  purpose  of  more  carefully 
exploring  the  locality.  About  three  miles  from 
the  sea-coast,  I  beheld  a  small  hut  in  the  midst 
of  the  sand,  the  roof  of  which,  to  use  the  ex- 
pression 3  of  Sallust,  was  like  the  keel  of  a  ship. 
It  was  close  to4  the  earth,  and  was  floored  with 
good  strong  boards,  not  because  any  very  heavy 
rains  are  there  feared  (for,  in  fact,  such  a  thing 
as  rain  has  there  never  even  been  heard  of),  but 
because,  such  is  the  strength  of  the  winds  in  that 
district,  that,  if  at  any  time  only  a  little  breath  of 
air  begins  there  to  be  felt,  even  when  the  weather 
is  pretty  mild,  a  greater  wreckage  takes  place  in 
those  lands  than  on  any  sea.  No  plants  are 
there,  and  no  seeds  ever  spring  up,  since,  in  such 
shifting  soil,  the  dry  sand  is  swept  along  with 
every  motion  of  the  winds.  But  where  some 
promontories,  back  from  the  sea,  act  as  a  check 
to  the  winds,  the  soil,  being  somewhat  more 
firm,  produces  here  and  there  some  prickly  grass, 
and  that  furnishes  fair  pasturage  for  sheep.  The 
inhabitants  live  on  milk,  while  those  of  them  that 
are  more  skillful,  or,  so  to  speak,  more  wealthy, 
make  use  of  barley  bread.  That  is  the  only  kind 
of  grain  which  flourishes  there,  for  barley,  by 
the  quickness  of  its  growth  in  that  sort  of  soil, 
generally  escapes  the  destruction  caused  by  the 
fierce  winds.  So  rapid  is  its  growth  that  we  are 
told  it  is  ripe  on  the  thirtieth  day  after  the  sow- 
ing of  the  seed.  But  there  is  no  reason  why 
men  should  settle  there,  except  that  all  are  free 
from  the  payment  of  taxes.  The  sea-coast  of 
the  Cyrenians  is  indeed  the  most  remote,  border- 
ing upon  that  desert  which  lies  between  Egypt 
and  Africa,5  and  through  which  Cato  formerly, 
when  fleeing  from  Caesar,  led  an  army.6 


CHAPTER   IV. 

I  therefore  bent  my  steps  toward  the  hut 
which  I  had  beheld  from  a  distance.  There  I 
find  an  old  man,  in  a  garment  made  of  skins, 
turning  a  mill  with  his  hand.  He  saluted  and 
received  us  kindly.  We  explain  to  him  that  we 
had  been  forced  to  land  on  that  coast,  and  were 
prevented  by  the  continued  raging  of  the  sea1 
from  being  able  at  once  to  pursue  our  voyage  ; 
that,  having  made  our  way  on  shore,  we  had 
desired,  as  is  in  keeping  with  ordinary  human 


3  "j^dificia  Numidarum  agrestium,  quae  mapalia  illi  vocant, 
oblonga,  incurvis  lateribus  tecta,  quasi  navium  carina:  sunt."  — 
Sail.  Jug.  XVIII.  8. 

4  The  hut  was  perhaps  built  on  piles  rising  slightly  above  the 
ground. 

5  The  term  Africa  is  here  used  in  its  more  restricted  sense  to 
denote  the  territory  of  Carthage. 

0  This  took  place  in  the  spring  of  the  year  B.C.  47. 

1  "  maris  mollitie." 


26 


DIALOGUES   OF   SULPITIUS   SEVERUS. 


nature,  to  become  acquainted  with  the  character 
of  the  locality,  and  the  manners  of  the  inhabi- 
tants. We  added  that  we  were  Christians,  and 
that  the  principal  object  of  our  enquiry  was 
whether  there  were  any  Christians  amid  these 
solitudes.  Then,  indeed,  he,  weeping  for  joy, 
throws  himself  at  our  feet ;  and,  kissing  us  over 
and  over  again,  invites  us  to  prayer,  while, 
spreading  on  the  ground  the  skins  of  sheep,  he 
makes  us  sit  down  upon  them.  He  then  serves 
up  a  breakfast  truly  luxurious,2  consisting  of  the 
half  of  a  barley  cake.  Now,  we  were  four,  while 
he  himself  constituted  the  fifth.  He  also  brought 
in  a  bundle  of  herbs,  of  which  I  forget  the  name, 
but  they  were  like  mint,  were  rich  in  leaves,  and 
yielded  a  taste  like  honey.  We  were  delighted 
with  the  exceedingly  sweet  taste  of  this  plant, 
and  our  hunger  was  fully  satisfied." 

Upon  this  I  smiled,  and  said  to  my  friend  the 
Gaul,  "What,  Gaul,  do  you  think  of  this?  Are 
you  pleased  with  a  bundle  of  herbs  and  half  a 
barley  cake  as  a  breakfast  for  five  men?  " 

Then  he,  being  an  exceedingly  modest  person, 
and  blushing  somewhat,  while  he  takes  my3  joke 
in  good  part,  says,  "  You  act,  Sulpitius,  in  a  way 
like  yourself,  for  you  never  miss  any  opportunity 
which  is  offered  you  of  joking  us  on  the  subject  of 
our  fondness  for  eating.  But  it  is  unkind  of  you 
to  try  to  force  us  Gauls  to  live  after  the  fashion 
of  angels  ;  and  yet,  through  my  own  liking  for 
eating,  I  could  believe  that  even  the  angels  are  in 
the  habit  of  eating  ;  for  such  is  my  appetite  that 
I  would  be  afraid  even  singly  to  attack  that  half 
barley  cake.  However,  let  that  man  of  Cyrene 
be  satisfied  with  it,  to  whom  it  is  either  a  matter 
of  necessity  or  nature  always  to  feel  hungry  ;  or, 
again,  let  those  be  content  with  it  from  whom,  I 
suppose,  their  tossing  at  sea  had  taken  away  all 
desire  for  food.  We,  on  the  other  hand,  are  at 
a  distance  from  the  sea ;  and,  as  I  have  often 
testified  to  you,  we  are,  in  one  word,  Gauls.  But 
instead  of  wasting  time  over  such  matters,  let 
our  friend  here  rather  go  on  to  complete  his 
account  of  the  Cyrenian." 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  Assuredly,"  continues  Postumianus,  "  I 
shall  take  care  in  future  not  to  mention  the 
abstinence  of  any  one,  in  case  the  difficult  ex- 
ample should  quite  offend  our  friends  the  Gauls. 
I  had  intended,  however,  to  give  an  account 
also  of  the  dinner  of  that  man  of  Cyrene  —  for 
we  were  seven  days  with  him  —  or  some  of  the 
subsequent  feasts ;  but  these  things  had  better 
be  passed  over,  lest  the  Gaul  should  think  that 


2  "  Prandium  sane   locupletissimum  "  :    of   course,   there   is   a 
friendly  irony  in  the  words. 

3  "  fatigationem,"  a  late  sense  of  the  word. 


he  was  jeered  at.  However,  on  the  following 
day,  when  some  of  the  natives  had  come  to- 
gether to  visit  us,  we  discovered  that  that  host 
of  ours  was  a  Presbyter  —  a  fact  which  he  had 
concealed  from  us  with  the  greatest  care.  We 
then  went  with  him  to  the  church,  which  was 
about  two  miles  distant,  and  was  concealed  from 
our  view  by  an  intervening  mountain.  We 
found  that  it  was  constructed  of  common  and 
worthless  trees,  and  was  not  much  more  impos- 
ing than  the  hut  of  our  host,  in  which  one  could 
not  stand  without  stooping.  On  enquiring  into 
the  customs  of  the  men  of  the  district,  we  found 
that  they  were  not  in  the  habit  of  either  buying 
or  selling  anything.  They  knew  not  the  mean- 
ing of  either  fraud  or  theft.  As  to  gold  and 
silver,  which  mankind  generally  deem  the  most 
desirable  of  all  things,  they  neither  possess  them, 
nor  do  they  desire  to  possess  them.  For  when 
I  offered  that  Presbyter  ten  gold  coins,  he 
refused  them,  declaring,  with  profound  wisdom, 
that  the  church  was  not  benefited  but  rather 1 
injured  by  gold.  We  presented  him,  however, 
with  some  pieces  of  clothing. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  After  he  had  kindly  accepted  our  gifts,  on 
the  sailors  calling  us  back  to  the  sea,  we 
departed ;  and  after  a  favorable  passage,  we 
arrived  at  Alexandria  on  the  seventh  day. 
There  we  found  a  disgraceful  strife  raging  be- 
tween the  bishops  and  monks,  the  cause  or 
occasion  of  which  was  that  the  priests  were 
known  when  assembled  together  often  to  have 
passed  decrees  in  crowded  synods  to  the  effect 
that  no  one  should  read  or  possess  the  books  of 
Origen.  He  was,  no  doubt,  regarded  as  a  most 
able  disputant  on  the  sacred  Scriptures.  But 
the  bishops  maintained  that  there  were  certain 
things  in  his  books  of  an  unsound  character ; 
and  his  supporters,  not  being  bold  enough  to 
defend  these,  rather  took  the  line  of  declaring 
that  they  had  been  inserted  by  the  heretics. 
They  affirmed,  therefore,  that  the  other  portions 
of  his  writings  were  not  to  be  condemned  on 
account  of  those  things  which  justly  fell  under 
censure,  since  the  faith  of  readers  could  easily 
make  a  distinction,  so  that  they  should  not 
follow  what  had  been  forged,  and  yet  should 
keep  hold  of  those  points  which  were  handled 
in  accordance  with  the  Catholic  faith.  They 
remarked  that  there  was  nothing  wonderful  if, 
in  modern  and  recent  writings,  heretical  guile 
had  been  at  work ;  since  it  had  not  feared  in 
certain  places  to  attack  even  Gospel  truth. 
The  bishops,  struggling  against  these  positions 

1  "  non  instrui,  sed  potius  destrui." 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


.27 


to  the  utmost  extent  of  their  power,  insisted  that 
what  was  quite  correct  in  the  writings  of  Origen 
should,  along  with  the  author  himself,  and  even 
his  whole  works,  be  condemned,  because  those 
books  were  more  than  sufficient  which  the 
church  had  received.  They  also  said  that  the 
reading  was  to  be  avoided  of  such  works  as 
would  do  more  harm  to  the  unwise  than  they 
would  benefit  the  wise.  For  my  part,  on  being  led 
by  curiosity  to  investigate  some  portions  of  these 
writings,  I  found  very  many  things  which  pleased 
me,  but  some  that  were  to  be  blamed-.  I  think 
it  is  cjear  that  the  author  himself  really  enter- 
tained these  impious  opinions,  though  his  de- 
fenders maintain  that  the  passages  have  been 
forged.  I  truly  wonder  that  one  and  the  same 
man  could  have  been  so  different  from  himself 
as  that,  in  the  portion  which  is  approved,  he 
has  no  equal  since  the  times  of  the  Apostles, 
while  in  that  which  is  justly  condemned,  no  one 
can  be  shown  to  have  erred  more  egregiously. 

CHAPTER   VII. 

'  For  while  many  things  in  his  books  which  were 
extracted  from  them  by  the  bishops  were  read 
to  show  that  they  were  written  in  opposition  to 
the  Catholic  faith,  that  passage  especially  ex- 
cited bad  feeling  against  him,  in  which  we  read 
in  his  published  works  that  the  Lord  Jesus,  as 
he  had  come  in  the  flesh  for  the  redemption 
of  mankind,  and  suffering  upon  the  cross  for  the 
salvation  of  man,  had  tasted  death  to  procure 
eternal  life  for  the  human  race,  so  he  was,  by 
the  same  course  of  suffering,  even  to  render  the 
devil  a  partaker  of  redemption.  He  maintained 
this  on  the  ground  that  such  a  thing  would  be 
in  harmony  with  his  goodness  and  beneficence, 
inasmuch  as  he  who  had  restored  fallen  and 
ruined  man,  would  thus  also  set  free  an  angel 
who  had  previously  fallen.  When  these  and 
other  things  of  a  like  nature  were  brought 
forward  by  the  bishops,  a  tumult  arose  owing 
to  the  zeal  of  the  different  parties  ;  and  when 
this  could  not  be  quelled  by  the  authority  of 
the  priests,  the  governor  of  the  city  was  called 
upon  to  regulate  the  discipline  of  the  church  by 
a  perverse  precedent ;  and  through  the  terror 
which  he  inspired,  the  brethren  were  dispersed, 
while  the  monks  took  to  flight  in  different  direc- 
tions ;  so  that,  on  the  decrees  being  published, 
they  were  not  permitted  to  find  lasting  accept- 
ance 1  in  any  place.  This  fact  influenced  me 
greatly,  that  Hieronymus,  a  man  truly  Catholic 
and  most  skillful  in  the  holy  law,  was  thought  at 
first  to  have  been  a  follower  of  Origen,  yet  now, 
above  most  others,  went  the  length  of  condemn- 
ing the  whole  of  his  writings.     Assuredly,  I  am 


1  "  in  nulla  consistere  sede  sinerentur.' 


not  inclined  to  judge  rashly  in  regard  to  any 
one ;  but  even  the  most  learned  men  were  said 
to  hold  different  opinions  in  this  controversy. 
However,  whether  that  opinion  of  Origen  was 
simply  an  error,  as  I  think,  or  whether  it  was  a 
heresy,  as  is  generally  supposed,  it  not  only 
could  not  be  suppressed  by  multitudes  of  cen- 
sures on  the  part  of  the  priests,  but  it  never 
could  have  spread  itself  so  far  and  wide,  had  it 
not  gathered  strength  from  their  contentions. 
Accordingly,  when  I  came  to  Alexandria,  I 
found  that  city  in  a  ferment  from  disturbances 
connected  with  the  matter  in  question.  The 
Bishop,  indeed,  of  that  place  received  me  very 
kindly,  and  in  a  better  spirit  than  I  expected, 
and  even  endeavored  to  retain  me  with  him. 
But  I  was  not  at  all  inclined  to  settle  there, 
where  a  recent  outbreak  of  ill-will  had  resulted 
in  a  destruction  of  the  brethren.  For,  although 
perhaps  it  may  seem  that  they  ought  to  have 
obeyed  the  bishops,  yet  such  a  multitude  of 
persons,  all  living  in  an  open  confession  of 
Christ,  ought  not  for  that  reason  to  have  been 
persecuted,  especially  by  bishops. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Accordingly,  setting  out  from  that  place,  I 
made  for  the  town  of  Bethlehem,  which  is  six 
miles  distant  from  Jerusalem,  but  requires  six- 
teen stoppages1  on  the  part  of  one  journeying 
from  Alexandria.  The  presbyter  Jerome2  rules 
the  church  of  this  place  ;  for  it  is  a  parish  of  the 
bishop  who  has  possession  of  Jerusalem.  Hav- 
ing already  in  my  former  journey  become  ac- 
quainted with  Hieronymus,  he  had  easily  brought 
it  about  that  I  with  good  reason  deemed  no  one 
more  worthy  of  my  regard  and  love.  For,  be- 
sides the  merit  due  to  him  on  account  of  his 
faith,  and  the  possession  of  many  virtues,  he  is 
a  man  learned  not  only  in  Latin  and  Greek,  but 
also  Hebrew,  to  such  a  degree  that  no  one  dare 
venture  to  compare  himself  with  him  in  all 
knowledge.  I  shall  indeed  be  surprised  if  he 
is  not  well  known  to  you  also  through  means  of 
the  works  which  he  has  written,  since  he  is,  in 
fact,  read  the  whole  world  over." 

"  Well,"  says  the  Gaul  at  this  point,  "  he  is,  in 
truth,  but  too  well  known  to  us.  For,  some  five 
years  ago,  I  read  a  certain  book  of  his,  in  which 
the  whole  tribe  of  our  monks  is  most  vehemently 
assaulted  and  reviled  by  him.  For  this  reason, 
our  Belgian  friend  is  accustomed  to  be  very 
angry,  because  he  has  said  that  we  are  in  the 
habit  of  cramming  ourselves  even  to  repletion. 
But  I,  for  my  part,  pardon  the  eminent  man ; 
and  am  of  opinion  that  he  had  made  the  remark 
rather  about  Eastern  than  Western  monks.      For 


1  "  mansionibus." 


2  Otherwise,  "  Hieronymus.'5 


28 


DIALOGUES   OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


the  love  of  eating  is  gluttony  in  the  case  of  the 
Greeks,  whereas  among  the  Gauls  it  is  owing  to 
the  nature  they  possess." 

Then  exclaimed  I,  "  You  defend  your  nation, 
my  Gallic  friend,  by  means  of  rhetoric ;  but  I 
beg  to  ask  whether  that  book  condemns  only 
this  vice  in  the  case  of  the  monks?  " 

"  No  indeed,"  replies  he  ;  "  the  writer  passed 
nothing  over,  which  he  did  not  blame,  scourge, 
and  expose  :  in  particular,  he  inveighed  against 
avarice  and  no  less  against  arrogance.  He  dis- 
coursed much  respecting  pride,  and  not  a  little 
about  superstition ;  and  I  will  freely  own  that 
he  seemed  to  me  to  draw  a  true  picture  of  the 
vices  of  multitudes." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"  But  as  to  familiarities  which  take  place 
between  virgins  and  monks,  or  even  clerics,  how 
true  and  how  courageous  were  his  words  !  And, 
on  account  of  these,  he  is  said  not  to  stand  high 
in  favor  with  certain  people  whom  I  am  un- 
willing to  name.  For,  as  our  Belgian  friend  is 
angry  that  we  were  accused  of  too  great  fond- 
ness for  eating,  so  those  people,  again,  are  said 
to  express  their  rage  when  they  find  it  written  in 
that  little  work,  —  'The  virgin  despises  her  true 
unmarried  brother,  and  seeks  a  stranger.'  " 

Upon  this  I  exclaim,  "You  are  going  too  far, 
my  Gallic  friend  :  take  heed  lest  some  one  who 
perhaps  owns  to  these  things,  hear  what  you  are 
saying,  and  begin  to  hold  you,  along  with  Hie- 
ronymus,  in  no  great  affection.  For,  since  you 
are  a  learned1  man,  not  unreasonably  will  I  ad- 
monish you  in  the  verse  of  that  comic  poet 
who  says,  —  '  Submission  procures  friends,  while 
truth  gives  rise  to  hatred.'  Let  rather,  Postu- 
mianus,  your  discourse  to  us  about  the  East,  so 
well  begun,  now  be  resumed." 

"  Well,"  says  he,  "  as  I  had  commenced  to 
relate,  I  stayed  with  Hieronymus  six  months, 
who  carried  on  an  unceasing  warfare  against  the 
wicked,  and  a  perpetual  struggle  in  opposition 
to  the  deadly  hatred  of  ungodly  men.  The 
heretics  hate  him,  because  he  never  desists  from 
attacking  them ;  the  clerics  hate  him,  because 
he  assails  their  life  and  crimes.  But  beyond 
doubt,  all  the  good  admire  and  love  him  ;  for 
those  people  are  out  of  their  senses,  who  sup- 
pose that  he  is  a  heretic.  Let  me  tell  the  truth 
on  this  point,  which  is  that  the  knowledge  of 
the  man  is  Catholic,  and  that  his  doctrine  is 
sound.  He  is  always  occupied  in  reading,  al- 
ways at  his  books  with  his  whole  heart :  he  takes 
no  rest  day  or  night ;  he  is  perpetually  either 
reading  or  writing  something.  In  fact,  had  I 
not  been  resolved  in  mind,  and  had  promised 


1  "  scholasticus.'' 


to  God  first  to  visit2  the  desert  previously  referred 
to,  I  should  have  grudged  to  depart  even  for  the 
shortest  time  from  so  great  a  man.  Handing 
over,  then,  and  entrusting  to  him  all  my  pos- 
sessions and  my  whole  family,  which  having  fol- 
lowed me  against  my  own  inclination,  kept  me 
in  a  state  of  embarrassment,  and  thus  being,  in 
a  sort  of  way  delivered  from  a  heavy  burden, 
and  restored  to  freedom  of  action,  I  returned  to 
Alexandria,  and  having  visited  the  brethren 
there  I  set  out  from  the  place  for  upper  Thebais, 
that  is  for  the  farthest  off  confines  of  Egypt. 
For  a  great  multitude  of  monks  were  said  to 
inhabit  the  widely  extending  solitudes  of  that 
wilderness.  But  here  it  would  be  tedious,  were 
I  to  seek  to  narrate  all  the  things  which  I  wit- 
nessed :  I  shall  only  touch  lightly  on  a  few 
points. 

CHAPTER   X. 

"  Not  far  from  the  desert,  and  close  to  the 
Nile,  there  are  numerous  monasteries.  P'or  the 
most  part,  the  monks  there  dwell  together  in 
companies  of  a  hundred ;  and  their  highest  rule  is 
to  live  under  the  orders  of  their  Abbot,  to  do 
nothing  by  their  own  inclination,  but  to  depend 
in  all  things  on  his  will  and  authority.  If  it  so 
happens  that  any  of  them  form  in  their  minds 
a  lofty  ideal  of  virtue,  so  as  to  wish  to  betake 
themselves  to  the  desert  to  live  a  solitary  life, 
they  do  not  venture  to  act  on  this  desire  except 
with  the  permission  of  the  Abbot.  In  fact,  this 
is  the  first  of  virtues  in  their  estimation,  —  to 
live  in  obedience  to  the  will  of  another.  To 
those  who  betake  themselves  to  the  desert,  bread 
or  some  other  kind  of  food  is  furnished  by  the 
command  of  that  Abbot.  Now,  it  so  happened 
that,  in  those  days  during  which  I  had  come 
thither,  the  Abbot  had  sent  bread  to  a  certain 
person  who  had  withdrawn  to  the  desert,  and 
had  erected  a  tent  for  himself  not  more  than  six 
miles  from  the  monastery.  This  bread  was  sent 
by  the  hands  of  two  boys,  the  elder  of  whom 
was  fifteen,  and  the  younger  twelve  years  of  age. 
As  these  boys  were  returning  home,  an  asp  of 
remarkable  size  encountered  them,  but  they 
were  not  the  least  afraid  on  meeting  it ;  and 
moving  up  to  their  very  feet,  as  if  charmed  by 
some  melody,  it  laid  down  its  dark-green  neck 
before  them.  The  younger  of  the  boys  laid  hold 
of  it  with  his  hand,  and,  wrapping  it  in  his  dress, 
went  on  his  way  with  it.  Then,  entering  the 
monastery  with  the  air  of  a  conqueror,  and 
meeting  with  the  brethren,  while  all  looked  on, 
he  opened  out  his  dress,  and  set  down  the  im- 
prisoned beast,  not  without  some  appearance  of 
boastfulness.  But  while  the  rest  of  the  spec- 
tators extolled  the  faith  and  virtue  of  the  chil- 


2  "  propositam  eremura." 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


29 


dren,  the  Abbot,  with  deeper  insight,  and  to  pre- 
vent them  at  such  a  tender  age  from  being  puffed 
up  with  pride,  subjected  both  to  punishment. 
This  he  did  after  blaming  them  much  for  having 
publicly  revealed  what  the  Lord  had  wrought 
through  their  instrumentality.  He  declared  that 
that  was  not  to  be  attributed  to  their  faith,  but  to 
the  Divine  power ;  and  added  that  they  should 
rather  learn  to  serve  God  in  humility,  and  not 
to  glory  in  signs  and  wonders  ;  for  that  a  sense 
of  their  own  weakness  was  better  than  any  vain- 
glorious exhibition  of  power. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

"When  the  monk  whom  I  have  mentioned 
heard  of  this,  —  when  he  learned  both  that  the 
children  had  encountered  danger  through  meet- 
ing the  snake,  and  that  moreover,  having  got  the 
better  of  the  serpent,  they  had  received  a  sound 
beating, —  he  implored  the  Abbot  that  henceforth 
no  bread  or  food  of  any  kind  should  be  sent  to 
him.  And  now  the  eighth  day  had  passed  since 
that  man  of  Christ  had  exposed  himself  to  the 
danger  of  perishing  from  hunger  ;  his  limbs  were 
growing  dry  with  fasting,  but  his  mind  fixed 
upon  heaven  could  not  fail ;  his  body  was  wear- 
ing away  with  abstinence,  but  his  faith  remained 
firm.  In  the  meantime,  the  Abbot  was  admon- 
ished by  the  Spirit  to  visit  that  disciple.  Under 
the  influence  of  a  pious  solicitude,  he  was  eager 
to  learn  by  what  means  of  preserving  life  that 
faithful  man  was  supported,  since  he  had  de- 
clined any  human  aid  in  ministering  to  his  ne- 
cessities. Accordingly,  he  sets  out  in  person  to 
satisfy  himself  on  the  subject.  When  the  recluse 
saw  from  a  distance  the  old  man  coming  to  him, 
he  ran  to  meet  him  :  he  thanks  him  for  the 
visit,  and  conducts  him  to  his  cell.  As  they 
enter  the  cell  together,  they  behold  a  basket  of 
palm  branches,  full  of  hot  bread,  hanging  fixed 
at  the  door-post.  And  first  the  smell  of  the  hot 
bread  is  perceived ;  but  on  touching  it,  it  ap- 
pears as  if  just  a  little  before  it  had  been  taken 
from  the  oven.  At  the  same  time,  they  do  not 
recognize  the  bread  as  being  of  the  shape  com- 
mon in  Egypt.  Both  are  filled  with  amazement, 
and  acknowledge  the  gift  as  being  from  heaven. 
On  the  one  side,  the  recluse  declared  that  this 
event  was  due  to  the  arrival  of  the  Abbot ; 
while,  on  the  other  side,  the  Abbot  ascribed  it 
rather  to  the  faith  and  virtue  of  the  recluse  ;  but 
both  broke  the  heaven-sent  bread  with  exceed- 
ing joy.  And  when,  on  his  return  to  the  mon- 
astery, the  old  man  reported  to  the  brethren 
what  had  occurred,  such  enthusiasm  seized  the 
minds  of  all  of  them,  that  they  vied  with  each 
other  in  their  haste  ,to  betake  themselves  to  the 
desert,    and    its    sacred  seclusion;    while    they 


declared  themselves  miserable  in  having  made 
their  abode  only  too  long  amid  a  multitude, 
where  human  fellowship  had  to  be  carried  on 
and  endured. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

"  In  this  monastery  I  saw  two  old  men  who 
were  said  to  have  already  lived  there  for  forty 
years,  and  in  fact  never  to  have  departed  from 
it.  I  do  not  think  that  I  should  pass  by  all 
mention  of  these  men,  since,  indeed,  I  heard  the 
following  statement  made  regarding  their  vir- 
tues on  the  testimony  of  the  Abbot  himself,  and 
all  the  brethren,  that  in  the  case  of  one  of 
them,  the  sun  never  beheld  him  feasting,  and  in 
the  case  of  the  other,  the  sun  never  saw  him 
angry." 

Upon  this,  the  Gaul  looking  at  me  exclaims  : 
"  Would  that  a  friend  of  yours  —  I  do  not  wish 
to  mention  his  name  —  were  now  present;  I 
should  greatly  like  him  to  hear  of  that  example, 
since  we  have  had  too  much  experience  of  his 
bitter  anger  in  the  persons  of  a  great  many  peo- 
ple. Nevertheless,  as  I  hear,  he  has  lately  for- 
given his  enemies  ;  and,  in  these  circumstances, 
were  he  to  hear  of  the  conduct  of  that  man,  he 
would  be  more  and  more  strengthened  in  his 
forgiving  course  by  the  example  thus  set  before 
him,  and  would  feel  that  it  is  an  admirable  vir- 
tue not  to  fall  under  the  influence  of  anger.  I 
will  not  indeed  deny  that  he  had  just  reasons 
for  his  wrath  ;  but  where  the  battle  is  hard,  the 
crown  of  victory  is  all  the  more  glorious.  For 
this  reason,  I  think,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  say 
so,  that  a  certain  man  was  justly  to  be  praised, 
because  when  an  ungrateful  freedman  abandoned 
him  he  rather  pitied  than  inveighed  against  the 
fugitive.  And,  indeed,  he  was  not  even  angry 
with  the  man  by  whom  he  seems  to  have  been 
carried  off."  J 

Upon  this  I  remarked  :  "  Unless  Postumianus 
had  given  us  that  example  of  overcoming  anger, 
I  would  have  been  very  angry  on  account  of  the 
departure  of  the  fugitive  ;  but  since  it  is  not 
lawful  to  be  angry,  all  remembrance  of  such 
things,  as  it  annoys  us,  ought  to  be  blotted  from 
our  minds.  Let  us  rather,  Postumianus,  listen  to 
what  you  have  got  to  say." 

"  I  will  do,"  says  he,  "  Sulpitius,  what  you 
request,  as  I  see  you  are  all  so  desirous  of  hear- 
ing me.  But  remember  that  I  do  not  address 
my  speech  to  you  without  hope  of  a  larger 
recompense  ;  I  shall  gladly  perform  what  you 
require,  provided  that,  when  ere  long  my  turn 
comes,  you  do  not  refuse  what  I  ask." 

"  We    indeed,"    said    I,    "  have    nothing   by 


1  It   appears   impossible   to   give 
words  —  "a  quo  videtur  abductus." 


a   certain   rendering  of  these 


3Q 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


means  of  which  we  can  return  the  obligation  we 
shall  lie  under  to  you  even  without  a  larger 
return.2  However,  command  us  as  to  anything 
you  have  thought  about,  provided  you  satisfy 
our  desires,  as  you  have  already  begun  to  do, 
for  your  speech  conveys  to  us  true  delight." 

"  I  will  stint  nothing,"  said  Postumianus,  "  of 
your  desires ;  and  inasmuch  as  you  have  recog- 
nized the  virtue  of  one  recluse,  I  shall  go  on  to 
relate  to  you  some  few  things  about  more  such 
persons. 


CHAPTER  XJII. 

"  Well  then,  when  I  entered  upon  the  near- 
est parts  of  the  desert,  about  twelve  miles  from 
the  Nile,  having  as  my  guide  one  of  the  brethren 
who  was  well  acquainted  with  the  localities,  we 
arrived  at  the  residence  of  a  certain  old  monk 
who  dwelt  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain.  In  that 
place  there  was  a  well,  which  is  a  very  rare  thing 
in  these  regions.  The  monk  had  one  ox,  the 
whole  labor  of  which  consisted  in  drawing 
water  by  moving  a  machine  worked  with  a 
wheel.  This  was  the  only  way  of  getting  at  the 
water,  for  the  well  was  said  to  be  a  thousand  or 
more  feet  deep.  There  was  also  a  garden  there 
full  of  a  variety  of  vegetables.  This,  too,  was 
contrary  to  what  might  have  been  expected  in 
the  desert  where,  all  things  being  dry  and  burnt 
up  by  the  fierce  rays  of  the  sun  produce  not 
even  the  slenderest  root  of  any  plant.  But  the 
labor  which  in  common  with  his  ox,  the  monk 
performed,  as  well  as  his  own  special  industry, 
produced  such  a  happy  state  of  things  to  the 
holy  man ;  for  the  frequent  irrigation  in  which 
he  engaged  imparted  such  a  fertility  to  the  sand 
that  we  saw  the  vegetables  in  his  garden  flour- 
ishing and  coming  to  maturity  in  a  wonderful 
manner.  On  these,  then,  the  ox  lived  as  well  as 
its  master ;  and  from  the  abundance  thus  sup- 
plied, the  holy  man  provided  us  also  with  a  din- 
ner. There  I  saw  what  ye  Gauls,  perchance, 
may  not  believe  —  a  pot  boiling  without  fire ' 
with  the  vegetables  which  were  being  got  ready 
for  our  dinner  :  such  is  the  power  of  the  sun  in 
that  place  that  it  is  sufficient  for  any  cooks,  even 
for  preparing  the  dainties  of  the  Gauls.  Then 
after  dinner,  when  the  evening  was  coming  on,  our 
host  invites  us  to  a  palm-tree,  the  fruit  of  which 
he  was  accustomed  to  use,  and  which  was  at  a 
distance  of  about  two  miles.  For  that  is  the 
only  kind  of  tree  found  in  the  desert,  and  even 
these  are  rare,  though  they  do  occur.  I  am  not 
sure  whether  this  is  owing  to  the  wise  foresight 
of  former  ages,  or   whether   the    soil   naturally 


2  "  vel  sine  fsenore." 

1  Hornius  strangely  remarks  on  this,  "  Frequens  id  in  Africa. 
Quin  et  ferrum  nimio  solis  ardore  mollescere  scribunt  qui  interiorem 
Libyam  perlustrarunt." 


produces  them.  It  may  indeed  be  that  God, 
knowing  beforehand  that  the  desert  was  one  day 
to  be  inhabited  by  the  saints,  prepared  these 
things  for  his  servants.  For  those  who  settle 
within  these  solitudes  live  for  the  most  part  on 
the  fruit  of  such  trees,  since  no  other  kinds  of 
plants  thrive  in  these  quarters.  Well,  when  we 
came  up  to  that  tree  to  which  the  kindness  of 
our  host  conducted  us,  we  there  met  with  a  lion  ; 
and  on  seeing  it,  both  my  guide  and  myself 
began  to  tremble  ;  but  the  holy  man  went  up 
to  it  without  delay,  while  we,  though  in  great 
terror,  followed  him.  As  if  commanded  by 
God,  the  beast  modestly  withdrew  and  stood 
gazing  at  us,  while  our  friend,  the  monk,  plucked 
some  fruit  hanging  within  easy  reach  on  the 
lower  branches.  And,  on  his  holding  out  his 
hand  filled  with  dates,  the  monster  ran  up  to 
him  and  received  them  as  readily  as  any  domes- 
tic animal  could  have  done ;  and  having  eaten 
them,  it  departed.  We,  beholding  these  things, 
and  being  still  under  the  influence  of  fear,  could 
not  but  perceive  how  great  was  the  power  of 
faith' in  his  case,  and  how  weak  it  was  in  our- 
selves. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

"  We  found  another  equally  remarkable  man 
living  in  a  small  hut,  capable  only  of  containing 
a  single  person.  Concerning  him  we  were  told 
that  a  she-wolf  was  accustomed  to  stand  near 
him  at  dinner ;  and  that  the  beast  could  by  no 
means  be  easily  deceived  so  as  to  fail  to  be  with 
him  at  the  regular  hour  when  he  took  refresh- 
ment. It  was  also  said  that  the  wolf  waited  at 
the  door  until  he  offered  her  the  bread  which 
remained  over  his  own  humble  dinner ;  that 
she  was  accustomed  to  lick  his  hand,  and  then, 
her  duty  being,  as  it  were,  fulfilled,  and  her  re- 
spects paid  to  him,  she  took  her  departure. 
But  it  so  happened  that  that  holy  man,  while  he 
escorted  a  brother  who  had  paid  him  a  visit,  on 
his  way  home,  was  a  pretty  long  time  away,  and 
only  returned  under  night.1  In  the  meanwhile, 
the  beast  made  its  appearance  at  the  usual  din- 
ner time.  Having  entered  the  vacant  cell  and 
perceived  that  its  benefactor  was  absent,  it  be- 
gan to  search  round  the  hut  with  some  curiosity 
to  discover,  if  possible,  the  inhabitant.  Now 
it  so  happened  that  a  basket  of  palm-twigs  was 
hanging  close  at  hand  with  five  loaves  of  bread 
in  it.  Taking  one  of  these,  the  beast  devoured 
it,  and  then,  having  committed  this  evil  deed, 
went  its  way.  The  recluse  on  his  return  found 
the  basket  in  a  state  of  disorder,  and  the  num- 
ber of  loaves  less    than   it   should  have  been. 


1  "sub  nocte  "  :   this  may  be  used  tor  the  usual  classical  form 
sub  noctem,"  towards  evening. 


, 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


3i 


He  is  aware  of  the  loss  of  his  household  goods, 
and  observes  near  the  threshold  some  fragments 
of  the  loaf  which  had  been  stolen.  Consider- 
ing all  this,  he  had  little  doubt  as  to  the  author 
of  the  theft.  Accordingly,  when  on  the  follow- 
ing days  the  beast  did  not,  in  its  usual  way, 
make  its  appearance  (undoubtedly  hesitating 
from  a  consciousness  of  its  audacious  deed  to 
come  to  him  on  whom  it  had  inflicted  injury), 
the  recluse  was  deeply  grieved  at  being  deprived 
of  the  happiness  he  had  enjoyed  in  its  society. 
At  last,  being  brought  back  through  his  prayers, 
it  appeared  to  him  as  usual  at  dinner  time,  after 
the  lapse  of  seven  days.  But  to  make  clear  to 
every  one  the  shame  it  felt,  through  regret  for 
what  had  been  done,  not  daring  to  draw  very 
near,  and  with  its  eyes,  from  profound  self- 
abasement,  cast  upon  the  earth,  it  seemed,  as 
was  plain  to  the  intelligence  of  every  one,  to  beg 
in  a  sort  of  way,  for  pardon.  The  recluse,  pity- 
ing its  confusion,  bade  it  come  close  to  him,  and 
then,  with  a  kindly  hand,  stroked  its  head ; 
while,  by  giving  it  two  loaves  instead  of  the 
usual  one,  he  restored  the  guilty  creature  to  its 
former  position  ;  and,  laying  aside  its  misery  on 
'thus  having  obtained  forgiveness,  it  betook  it- 
self anew  to  its  former  habits.  Behold,  I  beg  of 
you,  even  in  this  case,  the  power  of  Christ,  to 
whom  all  is  wise  that  is  irrational,  and  to  whom 
all  is  mild  that  is  by  nature  savage.  A  wolf  dis- 
charges duty ;  a  wolf  acknowledges  the  crime 
of  theft ;  a  wolf  is  confounded  with  a  sense  of 
shame  :  when  called  for,  it  presents  itself;  it 
offers  its  head  to  be  stroked  ;  and  it  has  a  per- 
ception of  the  pardon  granted  to  it,  just  as  if  it 
had  a  feeling  of  shame  on  account  of  its  mis- 
conduct, —  this  is  thy  power,  O  Christ  —  these, 
O  Christ,  are  thy  marvelous  works.  For  in 
truth,  whatever  things  thy  servants  do  in  thy 
name  are  thy  doings ;  and  in  this  only  we  find 
cause  for  deepest  grief  that,  while  wild  beasts 
acknowledge  thy  majesty,  intelligent  beings  fail 
to  do  thee  reverence. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

"  But  lest  this  should  perchance  seem  incred- 
ible to  any  one,  I  shall  mention  still  greater 
things.  I  call  Christ1  to  witness  that  I  invent 
nothing,  nor  will  I  relate  things  published  by 
uncertain  authors,  but  will  set  forth  facts  which 
have  been  vouched  for  to  me  by  trustworthy 
men. 

"  Numbers  of  those  persons  live  in  the  desert 
without  any  roofs  over  their  heads,  whom  people 
call  anchorites.2     They  subsist  on  the  roots  of 


1  "  Fides  Christi  adest  ":  lit.  "  the  faith  of  Christ  is  present." 

2  Also  spelt  "  anchoret " :  it  means  "one  who  has  retired  from 
the  world  "  (a^a^wpew). 


plants ;  they  settle  nowhere  in  any  fixed  place, 
lest  they  should  frequently  have  men  visiting 
them  ;  wherever  night  compels  them  they  choose 
their  abode.  Well,  two  monks  from  Nitria 
directed  their  steps  towards  a  certain  man  living 
in  this  style,  and  under  these  conditions.  They 
did  so,  although  they  were  from  a  very  different 
quarter,  because  they  had  heard  of  his  virtues, 
and  because  he  had  formerly  been  their  dear 
and  intimate  friend,  while  a  member  of  the  same 
monastery.  They  sought  after  him  long  and 
much ;  and  at  length,  in  the  seventh  month, 
they  found  him  staying  in  that  far-distant  wilder- 
ness which  borders  upon  Memphis.  He  was 
said  already  to  have  dwelt  in  these  solitudes  for 
twelve  years ;  but  although  lie  shunned  inter- 
course with  all  men,  yet  he  did  not  shrink  from 
meeting  these  friends ;  on  the  contrary,  he 
yielded  himself  to  their  affection  for  a  period 
of  three  days.  On  the  fourth  day,  when  he  had 
gone  some  distance  escorting  them  in  their 
return  journey,  they  beheld  a  lioness  of  remark- 
able size  coming  towards  them.  The  animal, 
although  meeting  with  three  persons,  showed  no 
uncertainty  as  to  the  one  she  made  for,  but 
threw  herself  down  at  the  feet  of  the  anchorite  : 
and,  lying  there  with  a  kind  of  weeping  and 
lamentation,  she  manifested  mingled  feelings  of 
sorrow  and  supplication.  The  sight  affected  all, 
and  especially  him  who  perceived  that  he  was 
sought  for :  he  therefore  sets  out,  and  the  others 
follow  him.  For  the  beast  stopping  from  time 
to  time,  and,  from  time  to  time  looking  back, 
clearly  wished  it  to  be  understood  that  the  an- 
chorite should  follow  wherever  she  led.  What 
need  is  there  of  many  words  ?  We  arrived  at 
the  den  of  the  animal,  where  she,  the  unfortu- 
nate mother,  was  nourishing  five  whelps  already 
grown  up,  which,  as  they  had  come  forth  with 
closed  eyes  from  the  womb  of  their  dam,  so 
they  had  continued  in  persistent  blindness. 
Bringing  them  out,  one  by  one,  from  the  hollow 
of  the  rock,  she  laid  them  down  at  the  feet  of 
the  anchorite.  Then  at  length  the  holy  man 
perceived  what  the  creature  desired  ;  and  having 
called  upon  the  name  of  God,  he  touched  with 
his  hand  the  closed  eyes  of  the  whelps ;  and 
immediately  their  blindness  ceased,  while  light, 
so  long  denied  them,  streamed  upon  the  open 
eyes  of  the  animals.  Thus,  those  brethren, 
having  visited  the  anchorite  whom  they  were 
desirous  of  seeing,  returned  with  a  very  precious 
reward  for  their  labor,  inasmuch  as,  having  been 
permitted  to  be  eye-witnesses  of  such  power, 
they  had  beheld  the  faith  of  the  saint,  and  the 
glory  of  Christ,  to  which  they  will  in  future 
bear  testimony.  But  I  have  still  more  marvels 
to  tell :  the  lioness,  after  five  days,  returned  to 
the  man  who  had  done  her  so  great  a  kindness, 
and  brought  him,  as  a  gift,  the  skin  of  an  un- 


32 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


common  animal.  Frequently  clad  in  this,  as  if 
it  were  a  cloak,  that  holy  man  did  not  disdain  to 
receive  that  gift  through  the  instrumentality  of 
the  beast ;  while,  all  the  time,  he  rather  regarded 
Another  as  being  the  giver. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

"  There  was  also  an  illustrious  name  of  an- 
other anchorite  in  those  regions,  a  man  who 
dwelt  in  that  part  of  the  desert  which  is  about 
Syene.  This  man,  when  first  he  betook  himself 
to  the  wilderness,  intended  to  live  on  the  roots 
of  plants  which  the  sand  here  and  there  pro- 
duces, of  a  very  sweet  and  delicious  flavor  ;  but 
being  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  the  herbs,  he 
often  gathered  those  which  were  of  a  deadly 
character.  And,  indeed,  it  was  not  easy  to  dis- 
criminate between  the  kind  of  the  roots  by  the 
mere  taste,  since  all  were  equally  sweet,  but 
many  of  them,  of  a  less  known  nature,  contained 
within  them  a  deadly  poison.  When,  therefore, 
the  poison  within  tormented  him  on  eating 
these,  and  all  his  vitals  were  tortured  with  ter- 
rific pains,  while  frequent  vomitings,  attended 
by  excruciating  agonies,  were  shattering  the 
very  citadel  of  life,  his  stomach  being  completely 
exhausted,  he  was  in  utter  terror  of  all  that  had 
to  be  eaten  for  sustaining  existence.  Having 
thus  fasted  for  seven  days,  he  was  almost  at  the 
point  of  death,  when  a  wild  animal  called  an 
Ibex  came  up  to  him.  To  this  creature  stand- 
ing by  him,  he  offered  a  bundle  of  plants  which 
he  had  collected  on  the  previous  day,  yet  had 
not  ventured  to  touch ;  but  the  beast,  casting 
aside  with  its  mouth  those  which  were  poisonous, 
picked  out  such  as  it  knew  to  be  harmless.  In 
this  way,  that  holy  man,  taught  by  its  conduct 
what  he  ought  to  eat,  and  what  to  reject,  both 
escaped  the  danger  of  dying  of  hunger  and  of 
being  poisoned  by  the  plants.  But  it  would  be 
tedious  to  relate  all  the  facts  which  we  have 
either  had  personal  knowledge  of,  or  have  heard 
from  others,  respecting  those  who  inhabit  the 
desert.  I  spent  a  whole  year,  and  nearly  seven 
months  more,  of  set  purpose,  within  these  soli- 
tudes, being,  however,  rather  an  admirer  of  the 
virtues  of  others,  than  myself  making  any  at- 
tempt to  manifest  the  extraordinary  endurance 
which  they  displayed.  For  the  greater  part  of 
the  time  I  lived  with  the  old  man  whom  I  have 
mentioned,  who  possessed  the  well  and  the  ox. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

"  I  visited  two  monasteries  of  St.  Anthony, 
which  are  at  the  present  day  occupied  by  his 
disciples.     I  also  went  to  that  place  in  which 


the  most  blessed  Paul,  the  first  of  the  eremites, 
had  his  abode.  I  saw  the  Red  Sea  and  the 
ridges  of  Mount  Sinai,  the  top  of  which  almost 
touches  heaven,  and  cannot,  by  any  human 
effort,  be  reached.  An  anchorite  was  said  to 
live  somewhere  within  its  recesses  :  and  I  sought 
long  and  much  to  see  him,  but  was  unable  to  do 
so.  He  had  for  nearly  fifty  years  been  removed 
from  all  human  fellowship,  and  used  no  clothes, 
but  was  covered  with  bristles  growing  on  his 
own  body,  while,  by  Divine  gift,  he  knew  not  of 
his  own  nakedness.  As  often  as  any  pious  men 
desired  to  visit  him,  making  hastily  for  the  path- 
less wilderness,  he  shunned  all  meeting  with  his 
kind.  To  one  man  only,  about  five  years  before 
my  visit,  he  was  said  to  have  granted  an  inter- 
view ;  and  I  believe  that  man  obtained  the 
favor  through  the  power  of  his  faith.  Amid 
much  talk  which  the  two  had  together,  the 
recluse  is  said  to  have  replied  to  the  question 
why  he  shunned  so  assiduously  all  human  beings, 
that  the  man  who  was  frequently  visited  by 
mortals  like  himself,  could  not  often  be  visited 
by  angels.  From  this,  not  without  reason,  the 
report  had  spread,  and  was  accepted  by  multi- 
tudes, that  that  holy  man  enjoyed  angelic  fellow- 
ship. Be  this  as  it  may,  I,  for  my  part,  departed 
from  Mount  Sinai,  and  returned  to  the  river  Nile, 
the  banks  of  which,  on  both  sides,  I  beheld 
dotted  over  with  numerous  monasteries.  I  saw 
that,  for  the  most  part,  as  I  have  already  said, 
the  monks  resided  together  in  companies  of  a 
hundred  ;  but  it  was  well  known  that  so  many 
as  two  or  three  thousand  sometimes  had  their 
abode  in  the  same  villages.  Nor  indeed  would 
one  have  any  reason  to  think  that  the  virtue  of 
the  monks  there  dwelling  together  in  great  num- 
bers, was  less  than  that  of  those  was  known  to 
be,  who  kept  themselves  apart  from  human 
fellowship.  The  chief  and  foremost  virtue  in 
these  places,  as  I  have  already  said,  is  obedience. 
In  fact,  any  one  applying  for  admission  is  not 
received  by  the  Abbot  of  the  monastery  on  any 
other  condition  than  that  he  be  first  tried 
and  proved  ;  it  being  understood  that  he  will 
never  afterwards  decline  to  submit  to  any  in- 
junction of  the  Abbot,  however  arduous  and 
difficult,  and  though  it  may  seem  something 
unworthy  to  be  endured. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"  I  will  relate  two  wonderful  examples  of 
almost  incredible  obedience,  and  two  only, 
although  many  present  themselves  to  my  recol- 
lection ;  but  if,  in  any  case,  a  few  instances  do 
not  suffice  to  rouse  readers  to  an  imitation  of 
the  like  virtues,  many  would  be  of  no  advantage. 
Well  then,  when  a  certain  man  having  laid  aside 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


33 


all  worldly  business,  and  having  entered  a  mon- 
astery of  very *  strict  discipline,  begged  that  he 
might  be  accepted  as  a  member,  the  Abbot  be- 
gan to  place  many  considerations  before  him,  — 
that  the  toils  of  that  order  were  severe  ;  that  his 
own  requirements  were  heavy,  and  such  as  no 
one's  endurance  could  easily  comply  with  ;  that 
he  should  rather  enquire  after  another  monas- 
tery where  life  was  carried  on  under  easier  con- 
ditions ;  and  that  he  should  not  try  to  attempt 
that  which  he  was  unable  to  accomplish.  But 
he  was  in  no  degree  moved  by  these  terrors ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  all  the  more  promised 
obedience,  saying  that  if  the  Abbot  should 
order  him  to  walk  into  the  fire,  he  would  not 
refuse  to  enter  it.  The  Master  then,  having 
accepted  that  profession  of  his,  did  not  delay 
putting  it  to  the  test.  It  so  happened  that  an 
iron  vessel  was  close  at  hand,  very  hot,  as  it  was 
being  got  ready  by  a  powerful  fire  for  cooking 
some  loaves  of  bread  :  the  flames  were  bursting 
forth  from  the  oven  broken  open,  and  fire  raged 
without  restraint  within  the  hollows  of  that  fur- 
nace. The  Master,  at  this  stage  of  affairs, 
ordered  the  stranger  to  enter  it,  nor  did  he 
hesitate  to  obey  the  command.  Without  a 
moment's  delay  he  entered  into  the  midst  of  the 
flames,  which,  conquered  at  once  by  so  bold  a 
display  of  faith,  subsided  at  his  approach,  as 
happened  of  old  to  the  well-known  Hebrew 
children.  Nature  was  overcome,  and  the  fire 
gave  way ;  so  that  he,  of  whom  it  was  thought 
that  he  would  be  burned  to  death,  had  reason  to 
marvel  at  himself,  besprinkled,  as  it  were,  with 
a  cooling  dew.  But  what  wonder  is  it,  O  Christ, 
that  that  fire  did  not  touch  thy  youthful  soldier? 
The  result  was  that,  neither  did  the  Abbot 
regret  having  issued  such  harsh  commands,  nor 
did  the  disciple  repent  having  obeyed  the 
orders  received.  He,  indeed,  on  the  very  day 
on  which  he  came,  being  tried  in  his  weakness, 
was  found  perfect ;  deservedly  happy,  deservedly 
glorious,  having  been  tested  in  obedience,  he 
was  glorified  through  suffering. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

"  In  the  same  monastery,  the  fact  which  I  am 
about  to  narrate  was  said  to  have  occurred 
within  recent  memory.  A  certain  man  had 
come  to  the  same  Abbot  in  like  manner  with 
the  former,  in  order  to  obtain  admission.  When 
the  first  law  of  obedience  was  placed  before 
him,  and  he  promised  an  unfailing  patience  for 
the  endurance  of  all  things  however  extreme,  it 
so  happened  that  the  Abbot  was  holding  in  his 
hand  a  twig  of  storax  already  withered.     This 

1  "  monasterium  magnae  dispositionis." 


the  Abbot  fixed  in  the  ground,  and  imposed  this 
work  upon  the  visitor,  that  he  should  continue 
to  water  the  twig,  until  (what  was  against  every 
natural  result)  that  dry  piece  of  wood  should 
grow  green  in  the  sandy  soil.  Well,  the  stranger, 
being  placed  under  the  authority  of  unbending 
law,  conveyed  water  every  day  on  his  own 
shoulders  —  water  which  had  to  be  taken  from 
the  river  Nile,  at  almost  two  miles'  distance. 
And  now,  after  a  year  had  run  its  course,  the 
labor  of  that  workman  had  not  yet  ceased,  but 
there  could  be  no  hope  of  the  good  success  of 
his  undertaking.  However,  the  grace  of  obedi- 
ence continued  to  be  shown  in  his  labor.  The 
following  year  also  mocked  the  vain  labor  of  the 
(by  this  time)  weakened  brother.  At  length, 
as  the  third  annual  circle  was  gliding  by,  while 
the  workman  ceased  not,  night  or  day,  his 
labor  in  watering,  the  twig  began  to  show  signs 
of  life.  I  have  myself  seen  a  small  tree  sprung 
from  that  little  rod,  which,  standing  at  the 
present  day  with  green  branches  in  the  court 
of  the  monastery,  as  if  for  a  witness  of  what  has 
been  stated,  shows  what  a  reward  obedience 
received,  and  what  a  power  faith  can  exert. 
But  the  day  would  fail  me  before  I  could  fully 
enumerate  the  many  different  miracles  which 
have  become  known  to  me  in  connection  with 
the  virtues  of  the  saints. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"  I  will,  however,  still  further  give  you  an 
account  of  two  extraordinary  marvels.  The  one 
of  these  will  be  a  notable  warning  against  the 
inflation  of  wretched  vanity,  and  the  other  will 
serve  as  no  mean  guard  against  the  display  of  a 
spurious  righteousness. 

"  A  certain  saint,  then,  endowed  with  almost 
incredible  power  '  in  casting  out  demons  from 
the  bodies  of  those  possessed  by  them,  was,  day 
by  day,  performing  unheard-of  miracles.  For, 
not  only  when  present,  and  not  merely  by  his 
word,  but  while  absent  also,  he,  from  time  to 
time,  cured  possessed  bodies,  by  some  threads 
taken  from  his  garment,  or  by  letters  which  he 
sent.  He,  therefore,  was  to  a  wonderful  degree 
visited  by  people  who  came  to  him  from  every 
part  of  the  world.  I  say  nothing  about  those 
of  humbler  rank ;  but  prefects,  courtiers,  and 
judges  of  various  ranks  often  lay  at  his  doors. 
Most  holy  bishops  also,  laying  aside  their  priestly 
dignity,  and  humbly  imploring  him  to  touch  and 
bless  them,  believed  with  good  reason  that  they 
were  sanctified,  and  illumined  with  a  divine 
gift,  as  often  as  they  touched  his  hand  and  gar- 
ment. He  was  reported  to  abstain  always  and 
utterly  from  every  kind  of  drink,  and  for  food 
(I  will  whisper  this,  Sulpitius,  into  your  ear  lest 


34 


DIALOGUES    OF   SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


our  friend  the  Gaul  hear  it),  to  subsist  upon 
only  six  dried  figs.  But  in  the  meantime,  just 
as  honor  accrued  to  the  holy  man  from  his 
excellence,1  so  vanity  began  to  steal  upon  him 
from  the  honor  which  was  paid  him.  When 
first  he  perceived  that  this  evil  was  growing  upon 
him,  he  struggled  long  and  earnestly  to  shake  it 
off,  but  it  could  not  be  thoroughly  got  rid  of  by 
all  his  efforts,  since  he  still  had  a  secret  con- 
sciousness of  being  under  the  influence  of  vanity. 
Everywhere  did  the  demons  acknowledge  his 
name,  while  he  was  not  able  to  exclude  from 
his  presence  the  number  of  people  who  flocked 
to  him.  The  hidden  poison  was,  in  the  mean- 
time, working  in  his  breast,  and  he,  at  whose 
beck  demons  were  expelled  from  the  bodies  of 
others,  was  quite  unable  to  cleanse  himself  from 
the  hidden  thoughts  of  vanity.  Betaking  him- 
self, therefore,  with  fervent  supplication  to  God, 
he  is  said  to  have  prayed  that,  power  being 
given  to  the  devil  over  him  for  five  months,  he 
might  become  like  to  those  whom  he  himself 
had  cured.  Why  should  I  delay  with  many 
words  ?  That  most  powerful  man,  —  he,  re- 
nowned for  his  miracles  and  virtues  through  all 
the  East,  he,  to  whose  threshold  multitudes  had 
gathered,  and  at  whose  door  the  highest  digni- 
taries of  that  age  had  prostrated  themselves  — 
laid  hold  of  by  a  demon,  was  kept  fast  in 
chains.  It  was  only  after  having  suffered  all 
those  things  which  the  possessed  are  wont  to 
endure,  that  at  length  in  the  fifth  month  he  was 
delivered,  not  only  from  the  demon,  but  (what 
was  to  him  more  useful  and  desirable)  from  the 
vanity  which  had  dwelt  within  him. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

"  But  to  me  reflecting  on  these  things,  there 
occurs  the  thought  of  our  own  unhappiness  and 
our  own  infirmity.  For  who  is  there  of  us, 
whom  if  one  despicable  creature  of  a  man  has 
humbly  saluted,  or  one  woman  has  praised  with 
foolish  and  flattering  words,  is  not  at  once  elated 
with  pride  and  puffed  up  with  vanity?  This 
will  bring  it  about  that  even  though  one  does 
not  possess  a  consciousness  of  sanctity,  yet,  be- 
cause through  the  flattery,  or,  it  may  be,  the 
mistake  of  fools,  he  is  said  to  be  a  holy  man, 
he  will,  in  fact,  deem  himself  most  holy  !  And 
then,  if  frequent  gifts  are  sent  to  him,  he  will 
maintain  that  he  is  so  honored  by  the  munifi- 
cence of  God,  inasmuch  as  all  necessary  things 
are  bestowed  upon  him  when  sleeping  and  at 
rest.  But  further,  if  some  signs  of  any  kind 
of  power  fall  to   him  even  in  a  low  degree,  he 

1  "  virtute,"  perhaps  power,  as  in  many  other  places. 


will  think  himself  no  less  than  an  angel.  And 
even  if  he  is  not  marked  out  from  others  either 
by  acts  or  excellence,  but  is  simply  made  a 
cleric,  he  instantly  enlarges  the  fringes  of  his 
dress,  delights  in  salutations,  is  puffed  up  by 
people  visiting  him,  and  himself  gads  about 
everywhere.  Nay,  the  man  who  had  been  pre- 
viously accustomed  to  travel  on  foot,  or  at  most 
to  ride  on  the  back  of  an  ass,  must  needs  now 
ride  proudly  on  frothing  steeds ;  formerly  con- 
tent to  dwell  in  a  small  and  humble  cell,  he 
now  builds  a  lofty  fretted  ceiling ;  he  constructs 
many  rooms ;  he  cuts  and  carves  doors ;  he 
paints  wardrobes ;  he  rejects  the  coarser  kind 
of  clothing,  and  demands  soft  garments  ;  and  he 
gives  such  orders  as  the  following  to  dear  wid- 
ows and  friendly  virgins,  that  the  one  class  weave 
for  him  an  embroidered  cloak,  and  the  other  a 
flowing  robe.  But  let  us  leave  all  these  things 
to  be  described  more  pungently  by  that  blessed 
man  Hieronymus  ;  and  let  us  return  to  the  ob- 
ject more  immediately  in  view." 

"  Well,"  says  our  Gallic  friend  upon  this,  "  I 
know  not  indeed  what  you  have  left  to  be  said 
by  Hieronymus ;  you  have  within  such  brief 
compass  comprehended  all  our  practices,  that  I 
think  these  few  words  of  yours,  if  they  are  taken 
in  good  part,  and  patiently  considered,  will 
greatly  benefit  those  in  question,  so  that  they 
will  not  require  in  future  to  be  kept  in  order  by 
the  books  of  Hieronymus.  But  do  thou  rather 
go  on  with  what  you  had  begun,  and  bring  for- 
ward an  example,  as  you  said  you  would  do, 
against  spurious  righteousness ;  for  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  we  are  subject  to  no  more  destructive 
evil  than  this  within  the  wide  boundaries  of 
Gaul." 

"I  will  do  so,"  replied  Postumianus,  " nor 
will  I  any  longer  keep  you  in  a  state  of  expec- 
tation. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

"  A  certain  young  man  from  Asia,  exceed- 
ingly wealthy,  of  distinguished  family,  and  hav- 
ing a  wife  and  little  son,  happening  to  have  been 
a  tribune  in  Egypt,  and  in  frequent  campaigns 
against  the  Blembi  to  have  touched  on  some 
parts  of  the  desert,  and  having  also  seen  several 
tents  of  the  saints,  heard  the  word  of  salvation 
from  the  blessed  John.  And  he  did  not  then 
delay  to  show  his  contempt  for  an  unprofitable 
military  life  with  its  vain  honor.  Bravely  enter- 
ing into  the  wilderness,  he  in  a  short  time  be- 
came distinguished  as  being  perfect  in  every 
kind  of  virtue.  Capable  of  lengthened  fasting, 
conspicuous  for  humility,  and  steadfast  in  faith, 
he  had  easily  obtained  a  reputation  in  the  pur- 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


suit  of  virtue  equal  to  that  of  the  monks  of  old. 
But  by  and  by,  the  thought  (proceeding  from 
the  devil)  entered  his  mind  that  it  would  be 
more  proper  for  him  to  return  to  his  native  land 
and  be  the  means  of  saving  his  only  son  and  his 
family  along  with  his  wife  ;  which  surely  would 
be  more  acceptable  to  God  than  if  he,  content 
with  only  rescuing  himself  from  the  world, 
should,  not  without  impiety,  neglect  the  salva- 
tion of  his  friends.  Overcome  by  the  plausible 
appearance  of  that  kind  of  spurious  righteous- 
ness, the  recluse,  after  a  period  of  nearly  four 
years,  forsook  his  cell  and  the  end  to  which  he 
had  devoted  his  life.  But  on  arriving  at  the 
nearest  monastery,  which  was  inhabited  by 
many  brethren,  he  made  known  to  them,  in 
reply  to  their  questionings,  the  reason  of  his  de- 
parture and  the  object  he  had  in  view.  All  of 
them,  and  especially  the  Abbot  of  that  place, 
sought  to  keep  him  back ;  but  the  intention  he 
had  unfortunately  formed  could  not  be  rooted 
out  of  his  mind.  Accordingly  with  an  unhappy 
obstinacy  he  went  forth,  and,  to  the  grief  of  all, 
departed  from  the  brethren.  But  scarcely  had 
he  vanished  from  their  sight,  when  he  was  taken 
possession  of  by  a  demon,  and  vomiting  bloody 
froth  from  his  mouth,  he  began  to  lacerate  him- 
self with  his  own  teeth.  Then,  having  been 
carried  back  to  the  same  monastery  on.  the 
shoulders  of  the  brethren,  when  the  unclean 
spirit  could  not  be  restrained  within  its  walls,  he 
was,  from  dire  necessity,  loaded  with  iron  fet- 
ters, being  bound  both  in  hands  and  feet  —  a 
punishment  not  undeserved  by  a  fugitive,  in- 
asmuch as  chains  now  restrained  him  whom 
faith  had  not  restrained.  At  length,  after  two 
years,  having  been  set  free  from  the  unclean 
spirit  by  the  prayers  of  the  saints,  he  immedi- 
ately returned  to  the  desert  from  which  he  had 
departed.  In  this  way  he  was  both  himself  cor- 
rected and  was  rendered  a  warning  to  others, 
that  the  shadow  of  a  spurious  righteousness 
might  neither  delude  any  one,  nor  a  shifting 
fickleness  of  character  induce  any  one,  with  un- 
profitable inconstancy,  to  forsake  the  course  on 
which  he  has  once  entered.  And  now  let  it 
suffice  for  you  to  learn  these  things  respecting 
the  various  operations  of  the  Lord  which  he 
has  carried  on  in  the  persons  of  his  servants ; 
with  the  view  either  of  stimulating  others  to  a 
like  kind  of  conduct,  or  of  deterring  them 
from  particular  actions,  But  since  I  have  by 
this  time  fully  satisfied  your  ears  —  have,  in  fact, 
been  more  lengthy  than  I  ought  to  have  been  — 
do  you  now  (upon  this  he  addressed  himself  to 
me) — pay  me  the  recompense  you  owe,  by 
letting  us  hear  you,  after  your  usual  fashion, 
discoursing  about  your  friend  Martin,  for  my 
longings  after  this  have  already  for  a  long  time 
been  strongly  excited." 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

"What,"  replied  I,  "is  there  not  enough 
about  my  friend  Martin  in  that  book  of  mine 
which  you  know  that  I  published  respecting  his 
life  and  virtues?  " 

"I  own  it,"  said  Postumianus,  "and  that 
book  of  yours  is  never  far  from  my  right  hand. 
For  if  you  recognize  it,  look  here  —  (and  so 
saying  he  displayed  the  book  which  was  con- 
cealed in  his  dress)  — here  it  is.  This  book," 
added  he,  "  is  my  companion  both  by  land  and 
sea  :  it  has  been  my  friend  and  comforter  in  all 
my  wanderings.  But  I  will  relate  to  you  to  what 
places  that  book  has  penetrated,  and  how  there 
is  almost  no  spot  upon  earth  in  which  the  sub- 
ject of  so  happy  a  history  is  not  possessed  as  a 
well-known  narrative.  Paulinus,  a  man  who  has 
the  strongest  regard  for  you,  was  the  first  to 
bring  it  to  the  city  of  Rome  ;  and  then,  as  it 
was  greedily  laid  hold  of  by  the  whole  city,  I 
saw  the  booksellers  rejoicing  over  it,  inasmuch 
as  nothing  was  a  source  of  greater  gain  to  them, 
for  nothing  commanded  a  readier  sale,  or  fetched 
a  higher  price.  This  same  book,  having  got  a 
long  way  before  me  in  the  course  of  my  travel- 
ing, was  already  generally  read  through  all 
Carthage,  when  I  came  into  Africa.  Only  that 
presbyter  of  Cyrene  whom  I  mentioned  did  not 
possess  it ;  but  he  wrote  down  its  contents  from 
my  description.  And  why  should  I  speak  about 
Alexandria?  for  there  it  is  almost  better  known 
to  all  than  it  is  to  yourself.  It  has  passed 
through  Egypt,  Nitria,  the  Thebaid,  and  the 
whole  of  the  regions  of  Memphis.  I  found  it 
being  read  by  a  certain  old  man  in  the  desert ; 
and,  after  I  told  him  that  I  was  your  intimate 
friend,  this  commission  was  given  me  both  by 
him  and  many  other  brethren,  that,  if  I  should 
ever  again  visit  this  country,  and  find  you  well, 
I  should  constrain  you  to  supply  those  particu- 
lars which  you  stated  in  your  book  you  had 
passed  over  respecting  the  virtues  of  the  sainted 
man.  Come  then,  as  I  do  not  desire  you  to 
repeat  to  me  those  things  which  are  already 
sufficiently  known  from  what  you  have  written, 
let  those  other  points,  at  my  request  and  that  of 
many  others,  be  fully  set  forth,  which  at  the 
time  of  your  writing  you  passed  over,  to  pre- 
vent, as  I  believe,  any  feeling  of  weariness  on 
the  part  of  your  readers." 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

"  Indeed,  Postumianus,"  replied  I,  "  while  I 
was  listening  attentively,  all  this  time,  to  you 
talking  about  the  excellences  of  the  saints,  in 
my  secret  thoughts  I  had  my  mind  turned  to  my 
friend  Martin,  observing  on  the  best  of  grounds 


3^ 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


that  all  those  things  which  different  individuals 
had  done  separately,  were  easily  and  entirely  ac- 
complished by  that  one  man  alone.  For,  although 
you  certainly  related  lofty  deeds,  I  really  heard 
nothing  from  your  lips  (may  I  say  it,  without  of- 
fence to  these  holy  men),  in  which  Martin  was 
inferior  to  any  one  of  them.  And  while  I  hold 
that  the  excellence  of  no  one  of  these  is  ever  to 
be  compared  with  the  merits  of  that  man,  still 
this  point  ought  to  be  attended  to,  that  it  is  un- 
fair he  should  be  compared,  on  the  same  terms, 
with  the  recluses  of  the  desert,  or  even  with  the 
anchorites.  For  they,  at  freedom  from  every 
hindrance,  with  heaven  only  and  the  angels  as 
witnesses,  were  clearly  instructed  to  perform  ad- 
mirable deeds ;  he,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the 
midst  of  crowds  and  intercourse  with  human 
beings  —  among  quarrelsome  clerics,  and  among 
furious  bishops,  while  he  was  harassed  with  al- 
most daily  scandals  on  all  sides,  nevertheless 
stood  absolutely  firm  with  unconquerable  virtue 
against  all  these  things,  and  performed  such  won- 
ders as  not  even  those  accomplished  of  whom 
we  have  heard  that  they  are,  or  at  one  time  were, 
in  the  wilderness.  But  even  had  they  done 
things  equal  to  his,  what  judge  would  be  so  un- 
just as  not,  on  good  grounds,  to  decide  that  he 
was  the  more  powerful?  For  put  the  case  that 
he  was  a  soldier  who  fought  on  unfavorable 
ground,  and  yet  turned  out  a  conqueror,  and 
compare  them,  in  like  manner,  to  soldiers,  who, 
however,  contended  on  equal  terms,  or  even  on 
favorable  terms,  with  the  enemy.  What  then? 
Although  the  victory  of  all  is  one  and  the  same, 
the  glory  of  all  certainly  cannot  be  equal.  And 
even  though  you  have  narrated  marvelous  things, 
still  you  have  not  stated  that  a  dead  man  was 
recalled  to  life  by  any  one.  In  this  one  particu- 
lar undoubtedly,  it  must  be  owned  that  no  one 
is  to  be  compared  with  Martin. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

"  For,  if  it  is  worthy  of  admiration  that  the 
flames  did  not  touch  that  Egyptian  of  whom 
)rou  have  spoken,  Martin  also  not  infrequently 
proved  his  power  over  fire.  If  you  remind  us 
that  the  savagery  of  wild  beasts  was  conquered 
by,  and  yielded  to,  the  anchorites,  Martin,  for 
his  part,  was  accustomed  to  keep  in  check  both 
the  fury  of  wild  beasts  and  the  poison  of  ser- 
pents. But,  if  you  bring  forward  for  compari- 
son him  who  cured  those  possessed  of  unclean 
spirits,  by  the  authority  of  his  word,  or  even 
through  the  instrumentality  of  threads  from  his 
dress,  there  are  many  proofs  that  Martin  was 
not,  even  in  this  respect,  inferior.  Nay,  should 
you  have  recourse  to  him,  who,  covered  with  his 
own  hair  instead  of  a  garment,  was  thought  to 


be  visited  by  angels,  with  Martin  angels  were 
wont  to  hold  daily  discourse.  Moreover,  he 
bore  so  unconquerable  a  spirit  against  vanity  and 
boastfulness,  that  no  one  more  determinedly  dis- 
dained these  vices,  and  that,  although  he  often, 
while  absent,  cured  those  who  were  filled  with 
unclean  spirits,  and  issued  his  commands  not 
only  to  courtiers  or  prefects,  but  also  to  kings 
themselves.  This  was  indeed  a  very  small 
thing  amid  his  other  virtues,  but  I  should  wish 
you  to  believe  that  no  one  ever  contended  more 
earnestly  than  he  did  against  not  only  vanity, 
but  also  the  causes  and  the  occasions  of  vanity. 
I  shall  also  mention  what  is  indeed  a  small 
point,  but  should  not  be  passed  over,  because  it 
is  to  the  credit  of  a  man  who,  being  possessed 
of  the  highest  power,  manifested  such  a  pious 
desire  to  show  his  regard  for  the  blessed  Martin. 
I  remember,  then,  that  Vincentius  the  prefect, 
an  illustrious  man,  and  one  of  the  most  eminent 
in  all  Gaul  for  every  kind  of  virtue,  when  he  had 
occasion  to  be  in  the  vicinity  of  Tours,  often 
begged  of  Martin  that  he  would  allow  him  to 
stay  with  him  in  the  monastery.  In  making 
this  request,  he  brought  forward  the  example  of 
Saint  Ambrose,  the  bishop,  who  was  generally 
spoken  of  at  that  time  as  being  in  the  habit  of 
entertaining  both  consuls  and  prefects.  But 
Martin,  with  deeper  judgment,  refused  so  to  act, 
lest  by  so  doing  some  vanity  and  inflation  of 
spirit  might  steal  upon  him.  You,  therefore, 
must  acknowledge  that  there  existed  in  Martin 
the  virtues  of  all  those  men  whom  you  have 
mentioned,  but  there  were  not  found  in  all  of 
them  the  virtues  by  which  Martin  was  distin- 
guished." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"  Why  do  you,"  here  exclaimed  Postumianus, 
"  speak  to  me  in  such  a  manner?  As  if  I  did 
not  hold  the  same  opinion  as  yourself,  and  had 
not  always  been  of  the  same  mind.  I,  indeed, 
as  long  as  I  live,  and  retain  my  senses,  will  ever 
celebrate  the  monks  of  Egypt :  I  will  praise  the 
anchorites ;  I  will  admire  the  eremites ;  but  I 
will  place  Martin  in  a  position  of  his  own  :  I  do 
not  venture  to  compare  to  him  any  one  of  the 
monks,  far  less  any  of  the  bishops.  Egypt  owns 
this  :  Syria  and  ^Ethiopia  have  discovered  this  : 
India  has  heard  this ;  Parthia  and  Persia  have 
known  this  ;  not  even  Armenia  is  ignorant  of  it ; 
the  remote  Bosphorus  is  aware  of  it ;  and  in  a 
word,  those  are  acquainted  with  it  who  visit 
the  Fortunate  Islands  or  the  Arctic  Ocean.  All 
the  more  wretched  on  this  account  is  this  coun- 
try of  ours,  which  has  not  been  found  worthy  to 
be  acquainted  with  so  great  a  man,  although  he 
was  in  its  immediate  vicinity.     However,  I  will 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


37 


not  include  the  people  at  large  in  this  censure  : 
only  the  clerics,  only  the  priests  know  nothing 
of  him ;  and  not  without  reason  were  they,  in 
their  ill-will,  disinclined  to  know  him,  inasmuch 
as,  had  they  become  acquainted  with  his  virtues, 
they  must  have  recognized  their  own  vices.  I 
shudder  to  state  what  I  have  lately  heard,  that 
a  miserable  man  (I  know  him  not),  has  said 
that  you  have  told  many  lies  in  that  book  of 
yours.  This  is  not  the  voice  of  a  man,  but  of 
the  devil ;  and  it  is  not  Martin  who  is,  in  this 
way,  injured,  but  faith  is  taken  from  the  Gospels 
themselves.  For,  since  the  Lord  himself  testi- 
fied of  works  of  the  kind  which  Martin  accom- 
plished, that  they  were  to  be  performed  by  all 
the  faithful,  he  who  does  not  believe  that  Martin 
accomplished  such  deeds,  simply  does  not  be- 
lieve that  Christ  uttered  such  words.  But  the 
miserable,  the  degenerate,  the  somnolent,  are 
put  to  shame,  that  the  things  which  they  them- 
selves cannot  do,  were  done  by  him,  and  prefer 
rather  to  deny  his  virtues  than  to  confess  their 
own  inertness.  But  let  us,  as  we  hasten  on  to 
other  matters,  let  go  all  remembrance  of  such 
persons  :  and  do  you  rather,  as  I  have  for  a  long 
time  desired,  proceed  to  narrate  the  still  untold 
deeds  of  Martin." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  I  think  that  your  request 
would  more  properly  be  directed  to  our  friend 
the  Gaul,  since  he  is  acquainted  with  more  of 
Martin's  doings  than  I  am  —  for  a  disciple  could 
not  be  ignorant  of  the  deeds  of  his  master  —  and 
who  certainly  owes  a  return  of  kindness,  not 
only  to  Martin,  but  to  both  of  us,  inasmuch  as 
I  have  already  published  my  book,  and  you  have, 
so  far,  related  to  us  the  doings  of  our  brethren 
in  the  East.  Let  then,  our  friend  the  Gaul 
commence  that  detailed  account  which  is  due 
from  him :  because,  as  I  have  said,  he  both 
owes  us  a  return  in  the  way  of  speaking,  and 
will,  I  believe,  do  this  much  for  his  friend  Mar- 
tin—  that  he  shall,  not  unwillingly,  give  a  nar- 
rative of  his  deeds." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

"Well,"  said  the  Gaul,  "I,  for  my  part, 
though  I  am  unequal  to  so  great  a  task,  feel 
constrained  by  those  examples  of  obedience 
which  have  been  related  above  by  Postumianus, 
not  to  refuse  that  duty  which  you  impose  upon 
me.  But  when  I  reflect  that  I,  a  man  of  Gaul,1 
am  about  to  speak  in  the  presence  of  natives  of 
Aquitania,  I  fear  lest  my  somewhat  rude  form 
of  speech  should  offend  your  too  delicate  ears. 

l  The  word  Gaul  must  here  be  taken  in  its  more  limited  sense 
as  denoting  only  the  country  of  the  Celtae.  See  the  well-known 
nrst  sentence  of  Caesar's  Gallic  War. 


However,  you  will  listen  to  me  as  a  foolish  sort 2 
of  man,  who  says  nothing  in  an  affected  or  stilted 
fashion.  For  if  you  have  conceded  to  me  that 
I  was  a  disciple  of  Martin,  grant  me  this  also 
that  I  be  allowed,  under  the  shelter  of  his  ex- 
ample, to  despise  the  vain  trappings  of  speech 
and  ornaments  of  words." 

"Certainly,"  replied  Postumianus,  "speak  either 
in  Celtic,  or  in  Gaulish,  if  you  prefer  it,  provided 
only  you  speak  of  Martin.  But  for  my  part,  I 
believe,  that,  even  though  you  were  dumb, 
words  would  not  be  wanting  to  you,  in  which 
you  might  speak  of  Martin  with  eloquent  lips, 
just  as  the  tongue  of  Zacharias  was  loosed  at  the 
naming  of  John.  But  as  you  are,  in  fact,  an 
orator,3  you  craftily,  like  an  orator,  begin  by 
begging  us  to  excuse  your  unskillfulness,  because 
you  really  excel  in  eloquence.  But  it  is  not 
fitting  either  that  a  monk  should  show  such  cun- 
ning, or  that  a  Gaul  should  be  so  artful.  But  to 
work  rather,  and  set  forth  what  you  have  still 
got  to  say,  for  we  have  wasted  too  much  time 
already  in  dealing  with  other  matters ;  and  the 
lengthening  shadow  of  the  declining  sun  warns 
us  that  no  long  portion  of  day  remains  till  night 
be  upon  us.  Then,  after  we  had  all  kept  silence 
for  a  little,  the  Gaul  thus  begins  —  "I  think  I 
must  take  care  in  the  first  place  not  to  repeat 
those  particulars  about  the  virtues  of  Martin, 
which  our  friend  Sulpitius  there  has  related  in 
his  book.  For  this  reason,  I  shall  pass  over  his 
early  achievements,  when  he  was  a  soldier ;  nor 
will  I  touch  on  those  things  which  he  did  as  a 
layman  and  a  monk.  At  the  same  time,  I  shall 
relate  nothing  which  I  simply  heard  from  others, 
but  only  events  of  which  I  myself  was  an  eye- 
witness." 


DIALOGUE    II. 

CONCERNING   THE    VIRTUES    OF    ST.    MARTIN. 

CHAPTER   I. 

"  Well  then,  when  first,  having  left  the  schools, 
I  attached  myself  to  the  blessed  man,  a  few 
days  after  doing  so,  we  followed  him  on  his  way 
to  the  church.  In  the  way,  a  poor  man,  half- 
naked  in  these  winter-months,  met  him,  and 
begged  that  some  clothing  might  be  given  him. 
Then  Martin,  calling  for  the  chief-deacon,  gave 
orders  that  the  shivering  creature  should  be 
clothed  without  delay.  After  that,  entering  a 
private  apartment,  and  sitting  down  by  himself, 
as  his  custom  was  —  for  he  secured  for  himself 
this  retirement  even  in  the  church,  liberty  being 

2  "  Gurdonicus  ":  a  word  said  to  have  been  derived  from  the  name 
of  a  people  in  Spain  noted  for  their  stolidity. 

3  "  Scholasticus. " 


38 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


granted  to  the  clerics,  since  indeed  the  pres- 
byters were  seated  in  another  apartment,  either 
spending  their  time  in  mutual x  courtesies,  or 
occupied  in  listening  to  affairs  of  business.  But 
Martin  kept  himself  in  his  own  seclusion  up  to 
the  hour  at  which  custom  required  that  the 
sacred  rites  should  be  dispensed  to  the  people. 
And  I  will  not  pass  by  this  point  that,  when 
sitting  in  his  retirement,  he  never  used  a  chair ; 
and,  as  to  the  church,  no  one  ever  saw  him 
sitting  there,  as  I  recently  saw  a  certain  man 
(God  is  my  witness),  not  without  a  feeling  of 
shame  at  the  spectacle,  seated  on  a  lofty  throne, 
yea,  in  its  elevation,  a  kind  of  royal  tribunal ; 
but  Martin  might  be  seen  sitting  on  a  rude  little 
stool,  such  as  those  in  use  by  the  lowest  of 
servants,  which  we  Gallic  country-people  call 
tripets,2  and  which  you  men  of  learning,  or  those 
at  least  who  are  from  Greece,  call  tripods.  Well, 
that  poor  man  who  had  been  chanced  upon,  as 
the  chief-deacon  delayed  to  give  him  the  gar- 
ment, rushed  into  this  private  apartment  of  the 
blessed  man,  complaining  that  he  had  not  been 
attended  to  by  the  cleric,  and  bitterly  mourning 
over  the  cold  he  suffered.  No  delay  took  place  : 
the  holy  man,  while  the  other  did  not  observe, 
secretly  drew  off  his  tunic  which  was  below  his 
outer3  garment,  and  clothing  the  poor  man  with 
this,  told  him  to  go  on  his  way.  Then,  a  little 
after,  the  chief-deacon  coming  in  informs  him, 
according  to  custom,  that  the  people  were  wait- 
ing in  the  church,  and  that  it  was  incumbent  on 
him  to  proceed  to  the  performance  of  the  sacred 
rites.  Martin  said  to  him  in  reply  that  it  was 
necessary  that  the  poor  man  —  referring  to  him- 
self—  should  be  clothed,  and  that  he  could  not 
possibly  proceed  to  the  church,  unless  the  poor 
man  received  a  garment.  But  the  deacon,  not 
understanding  the  true  state  of  the  case  —  that 
Martin,  while  outwardly  clad  with  a  cloak,  was 
not  seen  by  him  to  be  naked  underneath,  at 
last  begins  to  complain  that  the  poor  man  does 
not  make  his  appearance.  '  Let  the  garment 
which  has  been  got  ready,'  said  Martin,  '  be 
brought  to  me  ;  there  will  not  be  wanting  the 
poor  man  requiring  to  be  clothed.'  Then,  at 
length,  the  cleric,  constrained  by  necessity,  and 
now  in  not  the  sweetest  temper,  hurriedly  pro- 
cures a  rough  4  garment  out  of  the  nearest  shop, 
short  and  shaggy,  and  costing  only  five  pieces 
of  silver,  and  lays  it,  in  wrath,  at  the  feet  of 
Martin.  'See,'  cries  he,  'there  is  the  garment, 
but  the  poor  man  is  not  here.'  Martin,  nothing 
moved,  bids  him  go  to  the  door  for  a  little,  thus 


this 


the  original,   a  very 


1  "  salutationibus   vacantes 
confused  and  obscure  sentence. 

2  Halm  edits  "  tripeccias,"  which  may  have  been  the  local 
fatois  for  "  tripetias  "  (ter-pes),  corresponding  to  the  Greek  -pi;roi>s, 
and  meaning  "  a  three-legged  stool." 

3  "  Amphibalum  ":  a  late  Latin  word  corresponding  to  the  more 
classical  toga. 

*  "  bigerricam  vestem." 


obtaining  secrecy,  while,  in  his  nakedness,  he 
clothes  himself  with  the  garment,  striving  with 
all  his  might  to  keep  secret  what  he  had  done. 
But  when  do  such  things  remain  concealed  in 
the  case  of  the  saints  desiring  that  they  should 
be  so  ?  Whether  they  will  or  not,  all  are  brought 
to  light. 


CHAPTER   II. 

"  Martin,  then,  clothed  in  this  garment,  pro- 
ceeds to  offer  the  sacrifice 1  to  God.  And  then 
on  that  very  day  —  I  am  about  to  narrate  some- 
thing wonderful  —  when  he  was  engaged  in 
blessing  the  altar,  as  is  usual,  we  beheld  a  globe 
of  fire  dart  from  his  head,  so  that,  as  it  rose  on 
high,  the  flame  produced  a  hair  of  extraordinary 
length.  And,  although  we  saw  this  take  place 
on  a  very  famous  day  in  the  midst  of  a  great 
multitude  of  people,  only  one  of  the  virgins,  one 
of  the  presbyters,  and  only  three  of  the  monks, 
witnessed  the  sight :  but  why  the  others  did  not 
behold  it  is  a  matter  not  to  be  decided  by  our 
judgment. 

"  About  the  same  time,  when  my  uncle  Evan- 
thius,  a  highly  Christian  man,  although  occupied 
in  the  affairs  of  this  world,  had  begun  to  be 
afflicted  with  a  very  serious  illness,  to  the  ex- 
treme danger  of  his  life,  he  sent  for  Martin. 
And,  without  any  delay,  Martin  hastened  towards 
him ;  but,  before  the  blessed  man  had  com- 
pleted the  half  of  the  distance  between  them, 
the  sick  man  experienced  the  power  of  him  that 
was  coming ;  and,  being  immediately  restored 
to  health,  he  himself  met  us  as  we  were  ap- 
proaching. With  many  entreaties,  he  detained 
Martin,  who  wished  to  return  home  on  the  fol- 
lowing day ;  for,  in  the  meantime,  a  serpent  had 
struck  with  a  deadly  blow  a  boy  belonging  to 
my  uncle's  family;  and  Evanthius  himself,  on 
his  own  shoulders,  carried  him  all  but  lifeless 
through  the  force  of  the  poison,  and  laid  him  at 
the  feet  of  the  holy  man,  believing  that  nothing 
was  impossible  to  him.  By  this  time,  the  ser- 
pent had  diffused  its  poison  through  all  the 
members  of  the  boy :  one  could  see  his  skin 
swollen  in  all  his  veins,  and  his  vitals  strung  up 
like  a  leather-bottle.  Martin  stretched  forth 
his  hand,  felt  all  the  limbs  of  the  boy,  and 
placed  his  finger  close  to  the  little  wound,  at 
which  the  animal  had  instilled  the  poison. 
Then  in  truth  —  I  am  going  to  tell  things  won- 
derful—  we  saw  the  whole  poison,  drawn  from 
every  part  of  the  body,  gather  quickly  together 
to  Martin's  finger ;  and  next,  we  beheld  the 
poison  mixed  with  blood  press  through  the 
small  puncture  of  the  wound,  just  as  a  long  line 


1  "  oblaturus  sacrificium.' 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


39 


of  abundant  milk  is  wont  to  flow  forth  from  the 
teats  of  goats  or  sheep,  when  these  are  squeezed 
by  the  hand  of  shepherds.  The  boy  rose  up  quite 
well.  We  were  amazed  by  so  striking  a  miracle  ; 
and  we  acknowledged  —  as,  indeed,  truth  com- 
pelled us  to  do  —  that  there  was  no  one  under 
heaven  who  could  equal  the  deeds  of  Martin. 


CHAPTER    III. 

"  In  the  same  way,  some  time  afterwards,  we 
made  a  journey  with  him  while  he  visited  the 
various  parishes  in  his  diocese.  He  had  gone 
forward  a  little  by  himself,  some  necessity  or 
other,  I  know  not  what,  compelling  us  to  keep 
behind.  In  the  meantime,  a  state-conveyance, 
full  of  military  men,  was  coming  along  the  pub- 
lic highway.  But  when  the  animals  near  the 
side  beheld  Martin  in  his  shaggy  garment,  with 
a  long  black  cloak  over  it,  being  alarmed,  they 
swerved  a  little  in  the  opposite  direction.  Then, 
the  reins  getting  entangled,  they  threw  into  con- 
fusion those  extended  lines  in  which,  as  you 
have  often  seen,  those  wretched  creatures  are 
held  together ;  and  as  they  were  with  difficulty 
rearranged,  delay,  of  course,  was  caused  to  those 
people  hastening  forward.  Enraged  by  this  in- 
jury, the  soldiers,  with  hasty  leaps,  made  for  the 
ground.  And  then  they  began  to  belabor  Mar- 
tin with  whips  and  staves  ;  and  as  he,  in  silence 
and  with  incredible  patience,  submitted  his  back 
to  them  smiting  him,  this  roused  the  greater 
fury  in  these  wretches,  for  they  became  all  the 
more  violent  from  the  fact,  that  he,  as  if  he  did 
not  feel  the  blows  showered  upon  him,  seemed 
to  despise  them.  He  fell  almost  lifeless  to  the 
earth ;  and  we,  ere  long,  found  him  covered 
with  blood,  and  wounded  in  every  part  of  his 
body.  Lifting  him  up  without  delay,  and  plac- 
ing him  upon  his  own  ass,  while  we  execrated 
the  place  of  that  cruel  bloodshed,  we  hastened 
off  as  speedily  as  possible.  In  the  meantime, 
the  soldiers  having  returned  to  their  conveyance, 
after  their  fury,  was  satisfied,  urge  the  beasts  to 
proceed  in  the  direction  in  which  they  had  been 
going.  But  they  all  remained  fixed  to  the  spot, 
as  stiff  as  if  they  had  been  brazen  statues,  and 
although  their  masters  shouted  at  them,  and  the 
sound  of  their  whips  echoed  on  every  side,  still 
the  animals  never  moved.  These  men  next  all 
fall  to  with  lashes;  in  fact,  while  punishing  the 
mules,  they  waste  all  the  Gallic  whips  they  had. 
The  whole  of  the  neighboring  wood  is  laid  hold 
of,  and  the  beasts  are  beaten  with  enormous 
cudgels ;  but  these  cruel  hands  still  effected 
nothing  :  the  animals  continued  to  stand  in  one 
and  the  same  place  like  fixed  effigies.  The 
wretched  men  knew  not  what  to  do,  and  they 
could  no  longer  conceal  from  themselves  that, 


in  some  way  or  other,  there  was  a  higher  power 
at  work  in  the  bosoms  of  these  brutes,  so  that 
they  were,  in  fact,  restrained  by  the  interposition 
of  a  deity.  At  length,  therefore,  returning  to 
themselves,  they  began  to  enquire  who  he  was 
whom  but  a  little  before  they  had  scourged  at 
the  same  place ;  and  when,  on  pursuing  the 
investigation,  they  ascertained  from  those  on 
the  way  that  it  was  Martin  who  had  been  so 
cruelly  beaten  by  them,  then,  indeed,  the  cause 
of  their  misfortune  appeared  manifest  to  all ; 
and  they  could  no  longer  doubt  that  they  were 
kept  back  on  account  of  the  injury  done  to  that 
man.  Accordingly,  they  all  rush  after  us  at  full 
speed,  and,  conscious  of  what  they  had  done 
and  deserved,  overwhelmed  with  shame,  weep- 
ing, and  having  their  heads  and  faces  smeared 
with  the  dust  with  which  they  themselves  had 
besprinkled  their  bodies,  they  cast  themselves 
at  Martin's  feet,  imploring  his  pardon,  and 
begging  that  he  would  allow  them  to  proceed. 
They  added  that  they  had  been  sufficiently  pun- 
ished by  their  conscience  alone,  and  that  they 
deeply  felt  that  the  earth  might  swallow  them 
alive  in  that  very  spot,  or  that  rather,  they,  losing 
all  sense,  might  justly  be  stiffened  into  immov- 
able rocks,  just  as  they  had  seen  their  beasts  of 
burden  fixed  to  the  places  in  which  they  stood ; 
but  they  begged  and  entreated  him  to  extend 
to  them  pardon  for  their  crime,  and  to  allow 
them  to  go  on  their  way.  The  blessed  man  had 
been  aware,  before  they  came  up  to  us,  that  they 
were  in  a  state  of  detention,  and  had  already 
informed  us  of  the  fact ;  however,  he  kindly 
granted  them  forgiveness ;  and,  restoring  their 
animals,  permitted  them  to  pursue  their  journey. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

"  I  have  often  noticed  this,  Sulpitius,  that 
Martin  was  accustomed  to  say  to  you,  that  such 
an  abundance x  of  power  was  by  no  means 
granted  him  while  he  was  a  bishop,  as  he  re- 
membered to  have  possessed  before  he  obtained 
that  office.  Now,  if  this  be  true,  or  rather  since 
it  is  true,  we  may  imagine  how  great  those 
things  were  which,  while  still  a  monk,  he  ac- 
complished, and  which,  without  any  witness,  he 
effected  apart  by  himself;  since  we  have  seen 
that,  while  a  bishop,  he  performed  so  great  won- 
ders before  the  eyes  of  all.  Many,  no  doubt,  of 
his  former  achievements  were  known  to  the 
world,  and  could  not  be  hid,  but  those  are  said 
to  have  been  innumerable  which,  while  he 
avoided  boastfulness,  he  kept  concealed  and 
did  not  allow  to  come  to  the  knowledge  of  man- 
kind ;  for,  inasmuch  as  he  transcended  the  capa- 


1  "  earn  virtutum  gratiam." 


40 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


bilities  of  mere  man,  in  a  consciousness  of  his 
own  eminence,  and  trampling  upon  worldly 
glory,  he  was  content  simply  to  have  heaven  as 
a  witness  of  his  deeds.  That  this  is  true  we 
can  judge  even  from  these  things  which  are  well 
known  to  us,  and  could  not  be  hid ;  since  e.g. 
before  he  became  a  bishop  he  restored  two  dead 
men  to  life,  facts  of  which  your  book  has  treated 
pretty  fully,  but,  while  he  was  bishop,  he  raised 
up  only  one,  a  point  which  I  am  surprised  you 
have  not  noticed.  I  myself  am  a  witness  to  this 
latter  occurrence  ;  but,  probably,  you  have  no 
doubts  about  the  matter  being  duly  testified. 
At  any  rate,  I  will  set  before  you  the  affair  as  it 
happened.  For  some  reason,  I  know  not  what, 
we  were  on  our  way  to  the  town  of  the  Carnutes.2 
In  the  meantime,  as  we  pass  by  a  certain  village 
most  populous  in  inhabitants,  an  enormous  crowd 
went  forth  to  meet  us,  consisting  entirely  of 
heathen ;  for  no  one  in  that  village  was  ac- 
quainted with  a  Christian.  Nevertheless,  owing 
to  the  report  of  the  approach  of  so  great  a  man, 
a  multitude  of  those  streaming  to  one  point  had 
filled  all  the  widely  spreading  plains.  Martin 
felt  that  some  work  was  to  be  performed ;  and 
as  the  spirit  within  him  was  thus  moving  him, 
he  was  deeply  excited.  He  at  once  began  to 
preach  to  the  heathen  the  word  of  God,  so 
utterly  different  from  that  of  man,  often  groaning 
that  so  great  a  crowd  should  be  ignorant  of  the 
Lord  the  Saviour.  In  the  meantime,  while  an 
incredible  multitude  had  surrounded  us,  a  cer- 
tain woman,  whose  son  had  recently  died,  began 
to  present,  with  outstretched  hands,  the  lifeless 
body  to  the  blessed  man,  saying,  "We  know 
that  you  are  a  friend  of  God  :  restore  me  my 
son,  who  is  my  only  one."  The  rest  of  the  mul- 
titude joined  her,  and  added  their  entreaties  to 
those  of  the  mother.  Martin  perceiving,  as  he 
afterwards  told  us,  that  he  could  manifest  power, 
in  order  to  the  salvation  of  those  waiting  for  its 
display,  received  the  body  of  the  deceased  into 
his  own  hands  ;  and  when,  in  the  sight  of  all,  he 
had  fallen  on  his  knees,  and  then  arose,  after 
his  prayer  was  finished,  he  restored  to  its  mother 
the  child  brought  back  to  life.  Then,  truly,  the 
whole  multitude,  raising  a  shout  to  heaven,  ac- 
knowledged Christ  as  God,  and  finally  began  to 
rush  in  crowds  to  the  knees  of  the  blessed  man, 
sincerely  imploring  that  he  would  make  them 
Christians.  Nor  did  he  delay  to  do  so.  As 
they  were  in  the  middle  of  the  plain,  he  made 
them  all  catechumens,  by  placing  his  hand  upon 
the  whole  of  them ;  while,  at  the  same  time, 
turning  to  us,  he  said  that,  not  without  reason, 
were  these  made  catechumens  in  that  plain 
where  the  martyrs  were  wont  to  be  consecrated." 


2  The  Carnutes  dwelt  on  both  sides  of  the  Loire,  and  their  chief 
town,  here  referred  to,  was  Autricum,  now  Chartres. 


CHAPTER   V. 

"You  have  conquered,  O  Gaul,"  said  Postu- 
mianus,  "  you  have  conquered,  although  cer- 
tainly not  me,  who  am,  on  the  contrary,  an 
upholder  of  Martin,  and  who  have  always  known 
and  believed  all  these  things  about  that  man ; 
but  you  have  conquered  all  the  eremites  and 
anchorites.  For  no  one  of  them,  like  your 
friend,  or  rather  our  friend,  Martin,  ruled  over 
deaths  of  all1  kinds.  And  Sulpitius  there  justly 
compared  him  to  the  apostles  and  prophets, 
inasmuch  as  the  power  of  his  faith,  and  the 
works  accomplished  by  his  power,  bear  witness 
that  he  was,  in  all  points,  like  them.  But  go 
on,  I  beg  of  you,  although  we  can  hear  nothing 
more  striking  than  we  have  heard  —  still,  go  on, 
O  Gaul,  to  set  forth  what  still  remains  of  what 
you  have  to  say  concerning  Martin.  For  the 
mind  is  eager  to  know  even  the  least  and  com- 
monest of  his  doings,  since  there  is  no  doubt 
that  the  least  of  his  actions  surpass  the  greatest 
deeds  of  others." 

"I  will  do  so,"  replies  the  Gaul,  "but  I  did 
not  myself  witness  what  I  am  about  to  relate, 
for  it  took  place  before  I  became  an  associate 
of  Martin's  ;  still,  the  fact  is  well  known,  having 
been  spread  through  the  world  by  the  accounts 
given  by  faithful  brethren,  who  were  present  on 
the  occasion.  Well,  just  about  the  time  when 
he  first  became  a  bishop,  a  necessity  arose  for 
his  visiting  the  imperial2  court.  Valentinian, 
the  elder,  then  was  at  the  head  of  affairs. 
When  he  came  to  know  that  Martin  was  asking 
for  things  which  he  did  not  incline  to  grant,  he 
ordered  him  to  be  kept  from  entering  the  doors 
of  the  palace.  Besides  his  own  unkind  and 
haughty  temper,  his  wife  Arriana  had  urged 
him  to  this  course,  and  had  wholly  alienated 
him  from  the  holy  man,  so  that  he  should  not 
show  him  the  regard  which  was  due  to  him. 
Martin,  accordingly,  when  he  had  once  and 
again  endeavored  to  procure  an  interview  with 
the  haughty  prince,  had  recourse  to  his  well- 
known  weapons  —  he  clothes  himself  in  sack- 
cloth, scatters  ashes  upon  his  person,  abstains 
from  food  and  drink,  and  gives  himself,  night 
and  day,  to  continuous  prayer.  On  the  seventh 
day,  an  angel  appeared  to  him,  and  tells  him  to 
go  with  confidence  to  the  palace,  for  that  the 
royal  doors,  although  closed  against  him,  would 
open  of  their  own  accord,  and  that  the  haughty 
spirit  of  the  emperor  would  be  softened.  Mar- 
tin, therefore,  being  encouraged  by  the  address 
of  the  angel  who  thus  appeared  to  him,  and 
trusting  to  his  assistance,  went  to  the  palace. 
The  doors  stood  open,  and  no  one  opposed  his 


1  "  mortibus." 

2  "  adire  comitatum" 
in  writers  of  the  period. 


this  is  a  common  meaning  of  comitatus 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


41 


entrance  ;  so  that,  going  in,  he  came  at  last  into 
the  presence  of  the  king,  without  any  one  seek- 
ing to  hinder  him.  The  king,  however,  seeing 
him  at  a  distance  as  he  approached,  and  gnash- 
ing his  teeth  that  he  had  been  admitted,  did  not, 
by  any  means,  condescend  to  rise  up  as  Martin 
advanced,  until  fire  covered  the  royal  seat,  and 
until  the  flames  seized  on  a  part  of  the  royal 
person.  In  this  way  the  haughty  monarch  is 
driven  from  his  throne,  and,  much  against  his 
will,  rises  up  to  receive  Martin.  He  even  gave 
many  embraces  to  the  man  whom  he  had 
formerly  determined  to  despise,  and,  coming  to 
a  better  frame  of  mind,  he  confessed  that  he 
perceived  the  exercise  of  Divine  power  ;  without 
waiting  even  to  listen  to  the  requests  of  Martin, 
he  granted  all  he  desired  before  being  asked. 
Afterwards  the  king  often  invited  the  holy  man 
both  to  conferences  and  entertainments ;  and, 
in  the  end,  when  he  was  about  to  depart,  offered 
him  many  presents,  which,  however,  the  blessed 
man,  jealously  maintaining  his  own  poverty, 
totally  refused,  as  he  did  on  all  similar  occa- 


CHAPTER   VI. 

"And  as  we  have,  once  for  all,  entered  the 
palace,  I  shall  string  together  events  which  there 
took  place,  although  they  happened  at  different 
times.  And,  indeed,  it  does  not  seem  to  me 
right  that  I  should  pass  unmentioned  the  ex- 
ample of  admiration  for  Martin  which  was 
shown  by  a  faithful  queen.  Maximus  then  ruled 
the  state,  a  man  worthy  of  being  extolled  in *  his 
whole  life,  if  only  he  had  been  permitted  to  re- 
ject a  crown  thrust  upon  him  by  the  soldiery  in 
an  illegal  tumult,  or  had  been  able  to  keep  out  of 
civil  war.  But  the  fact  is,  that  a  great  empire 
can  neither  be  refused  without  danger,  nor  can 
be  preserved  without  war.  He  frequently  sent 
for  Martin,  received  him  into  the  palace,  and 
treated  him  with  honor ;  his  whole  speech  with 
him  was  concerning  things  present,  things  to 
come,  the  glory  of  the  faithful,  and  the  immor- 
tality of  the  saints  ;  while,  in  the  meantime,  the 
queen  hung  upon  the  lips  of  Martin,  and  not 
inferior  to  her  mentioned  in  the  Gospel,  washed 
the  feet  of  the  holy  man  with  tears  and  wiped 
them  with  the  hairs  of  her  head.  Martin, 
though  no  woman  had  hitherto  touched  him, 
could  not  escape  her  assiduity,  or  rather  her 
servile  attentions.  She  did  not  think  of  the 
wealth  of  the  kingdom,  the  dignity  of  the  em- 
pire, the  crown,  or  the  purple ;  only  stretched 
upon  the  ground,  she  could  not  be  torn  away 
from  the  feet  of  Martin.     At  last  she  begs  of 


1  Halm's  text  is  here  followed.     The  older  texts,  which  read  "  vir 
omni  vitae  merito  praedicandus,"  seem  hardly  intelligible. 


her  husband  (saying  that  both  of  them  should 
constrain  Martin  to  agree)  that  all  other  attend- 
ants should  be  removed  from  the  holy  man,  and 
that  she  alone  should  wait  upon  him  at  meals. 
Nor  could  the  blessed  man  refuse  too  obsti- 
nately. His  modest  entertainment  is  got  up  by 
the  hands  of  the  queen  ;  she  herself  arranges 
his  seat  for  him ;  places  his  table ;  furnishes 
him  with  water  for  his  hands  ;  and  serves  up  the 
food  which  she  had  herself  cooked.  While  he 
was  eating,  she,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground,  stood  motionless  at  a  distance,  after 
the  fashion  of  servants,  displaying  in  all  points 
the  modesty  and  humility  of  a  ministering  ser- 
vant. She  herself  mixed  for  him  his  drink  and 
presented  it.  When  the  meal  was  over,  she 
collected  the  fragments  and  crumbs  of  the 
bread  that  had  been  used,  preferring  with  true 
faithfulness  these  remains  to  imperial  banquets. 
Blessed  woman  !  worthy,  by  the  display  of  so 
great  piety,  of  being  compared  to  her  who  came 
from  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  hear  Solomon,  if 
we  merely  regard  the  plain  letter  of  the  history. 
But  the  faith  of  the  two  queens  is  to  be  com- 
pared (and  let  it  be  granted  me  to  say  this, 
setting  aside  the  majesty  of  the  secret2  truth 
implied):  the  one  obtained  her  desire  to  hear 
a  wise  man  ;  the  other  was  thought  worthy  not 
only  to  hear  a  wise  man,  but  to  wait  upon 
him." 


CHAPTER   VII. 

To  these  sayings  Postumianus  replies  :  "  While 
listening  to  you,  O  Gaul,  I  have  for  a  long  time 
been  admiring  the  faith  of  the  queen ;  but  to 
what  does  that  statement  of  yours  lead,  that  no 
woman  was  ever  said  to  have  stood  more  close 
to  Martin?  For  let  us  consider  that  that  queen 
not  only  stood  near  him,  but  even  ministered 
unto  him.  I  really  fear  lest  those  persons  who 
freely  mingle  among  women  should  to  some  ex- 
tent defend  themselves  by  that  example." 

Then  said  the  Gaul :  "  Why  do  you  not  notice, 
as  grammarians  are  wont  to  teach  us,  the  place, 
the  time,  and  the  person?  For  only  set  before 
your  eyes  the  picture  of  one  kept  in  the  palace 
of  the  emperor  importuned  by  prayers,  con- 
strained by  the  faith  of  the  queen,  and  bound 
by  the  necessities  of  the  time,  to  do  his  utmost 
that  he  might  set  free  those  shut  up  in  prison, 
might  restore  those  who  had  been  sent  into 
exile,  and  might  recover  goods  that  had  been 
taken  away,  —  of  how  much  importance  do  you 
think  that  these  things  should  have  appeared  to 
a  bishop,  so  as  to  lead  him,  in  order  to  the 
accomplishment  of  them  all,  to  abate  not  a  lit- 
tle of  the  rigor  of  his  general  scheme  of  life? 


"  Quod  mini  liceat  separata  mysterii  majestate  dixisse." 


42 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


However,  as  you  think  that  some  will  make  a 
bad  use  of  the  example  thus  furnished  them,  I 
shall  only  say  that  those  will  be  truly  happy  if 
they  do  not  fall  short  of  the  excellence  of  the 
example  in  question.  For  let  them  consider 
that  the  facts  of  the  case  are  these  :  once  in 
his  life  only,  and  that  when  in  his  seventieth 
year,  was  Martin  served  and  waited  upon  at  his 
meals,  not  by  a  free  sort  of  widow,  nor  by  a 
wanton  virgin,  but  by  a  queen,  who  lived  under 
the  authority  of  a  husband,  and  who  was  sup- 
ported in  her  conduct  by  the  entreaties  of  her 
husband,  that  she  might  be  allowed  so  to  act. 
It  is  further  to  be  observed  that  she  did  not  re- 
cline with  Martin  at  the  entertainment,  nor  did 
she  venture  even  to  partake  in  the  feast,  but 
simply  gave  her  services  in  waiting  upon  him. 
Learn,  therefore,  the  proper  course ;  let  a  ma- 
tron serve  thee,  and  not  rule  thee ;  and  let 
her  serve,  but  not  recline  along  with  thee  ;  just 
as  Martha,  of  whom  we  read,  waited  upon  the 
Lord  without  being  called  to  partake  in  the 
feast :  nay,  she  who  chose  rather  simply  to  hear 
the  word  was  preferred  to  her  that  served.  But 
in  the  case  of  Martin,  the  queen  spoken  of  ful- 
filled both  parts  :  she  both  served  like  Martha, 
and  listened  like  Mary.  If  any  one,  then,  de- 
sires to  make  use  of  this  example,  let  him  keep 
to  it  in  all  particulars ;  let  the  cause  be  the 
same,  the  person  the  same,  the  service  the 
same,  and  the  entertainment  the  same,  —  and 
let  the  thing  occur  once  only  in  one's  whole  life." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"Admirably,"  exclaimed  Postumianus,  "does 
your  speech  bind  those  friends  of  ours  from 
going  beyond  the  example  of  Martin  ;  but  I  own 
to  you  my  belief  that  these  remarks  of  yours  will 
fall  upon  deaf  ears.  For  if  we  were  to  follow  the 
ways  of  Martin,  we  should  never  need  to  defend 
ourselves  in  the  case  of  kissing,  and  we  should  be 
free  from  all  the  reproaches  of  sinister  opinion. 
But  as  you  are  wont  to  say,  when  you  are  ac- 
cused of  being  too  fond  of  eating,  'We  are 
Gauls,'  so  we,  for  our  part,  who  dwell  in  this 
district,  will  never  be  reformed  either  by  the  ex- 
ample of  Martin,  or  by  your  dissertations.  But 
while  we  have  been  discussing  these  points  at  so 
great  length,  why  do  you,  Sulpitius,  preserve  such 
an  obstinate  silence?" 

"  Well,  for  my  part,"  replied  I,  "  I  not  only 
keep  silence,  but  for  a  long  time  past  I  have 
determined  to  be  silent  upon  such  points.  For, 
because  I  rebuked  a  certain  spruce  gadding- 
about  widow,  who  dressed  expensively,  and 
lived  in  a  somewhat  loose  manner,  and  also  a 
virgin,  who  was  following  somewhat  indecently 
a  certain  young  man  who  was  dear  to  me,  —  al- 


though, to  be  sure,  I  had  often  heard  her  blam- 
ing others  who  acted  in  such  a  manner,  —  I 
raised  up  against  me  such  a  degree  of  hatred  on 
the  part  of  all  the  women  and  all  the  monks, 
that  both  bands  entered  upon  sworn  war  against 
me.  Wherefore,  be  quiet,  I  beg  of  you,  lest 
even  what  we  are  saying  should  tend  to  increase 
their  animosity  towards  me.  Let  us  entirely  blot 
out  these  people  from  our  memory,  and  let  us 
rather  return  to  Martin.  Do  thou,  friend  Gaul, 
as  you  have  begun,  carry  out  the  work  you  have 
taken  in  hand." 

Then  says  he :  "I  have  really  related  al- 
ready so  many  things  to  you,  that  my  speech 
ought  to  have  satisfied  your  desires  ;  but,  because 
I  am  not  at  liberty  to  refuse  compliance  with 
your  wishes,  I  shall  continue  to  speak  as  long  as 
the  day  lasts.  For,  in  truth,  when  I  glance  at 
that  straw,  which  is  being  prepared  for  our  beds, 
there  comes  into  my  mind  a  recollection  re- 
specting the  straw  on  which  Martin  had  lain, 
that  a  miracle  was  wrought  in  connection  with 
it.  The  affair  took  place  as  follows.  Claudio- 
magus  is  a  village  on  the  confines  of  the  Bituri- 
ges  and  the  Turoni.  The  church  there  is  cele- 
brated for  the  piety  of  the  saints,  and  is  not  less 
illustrious  for  the  multitude  of  the  holy  virgins. 
Well,  Martin,  being  in  the  habit  of  passing  that 
way,  had  an  apartment  in  the  private  part  of  the 
church.  After  he  left,  all  the  virgins  used  to 
rush  into  that  retirement :  they  kiss1  every  place 
where  the  blessed  man  had  either  sat  or  stood, 
and  distribute  among  themselves  the  very  straw 
on  which  he  had  lain.  One  of  them,  a  few  days 
afterwards,  took  a  part  of  the  straw  which  she 
had  collected  for  a  blessing  to  herself,  and  hung 
it  from  the  neck  of  a  possessed  person,  whom  a 
spirit  of  error  was  troubling.  There  was  no 
delay ;  but  sooner  than  one  could  speak  the 
demon  was  cast  out,  and  the  person  was  cured. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"  About  the  same  time,  a  cow  which  a  demon 
harassed  met  Martin  as  he  was  returning  from 
Treves.  That  cow,  leaving  its  proper  herd,  was 
accustomed  to  attack  human  beings,  and  had 
already  seriously  gored  many  with  its  horns. 
Now,  when  she  was  coming  near  us,  those  who 
followed  her  from  a  distance  began  to  warn  us, 
with  a  loud  voice,  to  beware  of  her.  But  after 
she  had  in  great  fury  come  pretty  near  to  us, 
with  rage  in  her  eyes,  Martin,  lifting  up  his 
hand,  ordered  the  animal  to  halt,  and  she  im- 
mediately stood  stock-still  at  his  word.  Upon 
this,  Martin  perceived  a  demon  sitting  upon  her 
back,  and  reproving  it,  he  exclaimed,  '  Begone, 

l  "adlambunt":  perhaps  only  "  touch." 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


43 


thou  deadly  being  ;  leave  the  innocent  beast,  and 
cease  any  longer  to  torment  it.'  The  evil  spirit 
obeyed  and  departed.  And  the  heifer  had  sense 
enough  to  understand  that  she  was  set  free  ;  for, 
peace  being  restored  to  her,  she  fell  at  the  feet 
of  the  holy  man ;  and  on  Martin  directing  her, 
she  made  for  her  own  herd,  and,  quieter  than 
any  sheep,  she  joined  the  rest  of  the  band. 
This  also  was  the  time  at  which  he  had  no  sen- 
sation of  being  burnt,  although  placed  in  the 
midst  of  the  flames  ;  but  I  do  not  think  it  nec- 
essary for  me  to  give  an  account  of  this,  because 
Sulpitius  there,  though  passing  over  it  in  his 
book,  has  nevertheless  pretty  fully  narrated  it  in 
the  epistle  which  he  sent  to  Eusebius,  who  was 
then  a  presbyter,  and  is  now  a  bishop.  I  believe, 
Postumianus,  you  have  either  read  this  letter,  or, 
if  it  is  still  unknown  to  you,  you  may  easily  ob- 
tain it,  when  you  please,  from  the  bookcase. 
I  shall  simply  narrate  particulars  which  he  has 
omitted. 

"  Well,  on  a  certain  occasion,  when  he  was 
going  round  the  various  parishes,  we  came  upon 
a  band  of  huntsmen.  The  dogs  were  pursuing 
a  hare,  and  the  little  animal  was  already  much 
exhausted  by  the  long  run  it  had  had.  When 
it  perceived  no  means  of  escape  in  the  plains 
spreading  far  on  every  side,  and  was  several 
times  just  on  the  point  of  being  captured,  it  tried 
to  delay  the  threatened  death  by  frequent  doub- 
lings. Now  the  blessed  man  pitied  the  danger 
of  the  creature  with  pious  feelings,  and  com- 
manded the  dogs  to  give  up  following  it,  and  to 
permit  it  to  get  safe  away.  Instantly,  at  the 
first  command  they  heard,  they  stood  quite 
still :  one  might  have  thought  them  bound,  or 
rather  arrested,  so  as  'to  stand  immovable  in 
their  own  footprints.  In  this  way,  through  her 
pursuers  being  stopped  as  if  tied  together,  the 
hare  got  safe  away. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  Moreover,  it  will  be  worth  while  to  relate 
also  some  of  his  familiar  sayings,  since  they 
were  all  salted  with  spiritual  instruction.  He 
happened  to  see  a  sheep 1  that  had  recently 
been  sheared ;  and,  '  See,'  says  he,  '  she  has 
fulfilled  the  precept  of  the  Gospel :  she  had  two 
coats,  and  one  of  them  she  has  given  to  him 
who  had  none  :  thus,  therefore,  ye  ought  also  to 
do.'  Also,  when  he  perceived  a  swineherd  in 
a  garment  of  skin,  cold  and,  in  fact,  all  but 
naked,  he  exclaimed  :  '  Look  at  Adam,  cast  out 
of  Paradise,  how  he  feeds  his  swine  in  a  gar- 
ment of  skin  ;  but  let  us,  laying  aside  that  old 
Adam,  who  still  remains  in  that  man,  rather  put 


1  Halm  has  here  an  unintelligible  reHing,  probably  a  misprint 
—  "  quem  recens  tonsam  forte  conspexerat." 


on  the  new  Adam.'  Oxen  had,  in  one  part, 
eaten  up  the  grass  of  the  meadows ;  pigs  also 
had  dug  up  some  portions  of  them  with  their 
snouts ;  while  the  remaining  portion,  which 
continued  uninjured,  flourished,  as  if  painted 
with  variously  tinted  flowers.  'That  part,'  said 
he,  '  which  has  been  eaten  down  by  cattle,  al- 
though it  has  not  altogether  lost  the  beauty  of 
grass,  yet  retains  no  grandeur  of  flowers,  con- 
veys to  us  a  representation  of  marriage  ;  that 
part,  again,  which  the  pigs,  unclean  animals,  had 
dug  up,  presents  a  loathsome  picture  of  fornica- 
tion ;  while  the  remaining  portion,  which  had 
sustained  no  injury,  sets  forth  the  glory  of  vir- 
ginity ;  —  it  flourishes  with  abundance  of  grass  ; 
the  fruits  of  the  field  abound  in  it ;  and,  decked 
with  flowers  to  the  very  extreme  of  beauty,  it 
shines  as  if  adorned  with  glittering  gems. 
Blessed  is  such  beauty  and  worthy  of  God  ;  for 
nothing  is  to  be  compared  with  virginity.  Thus, 
then,  those  who  set  marriage  side  by  side  with 
fornication  grievously  err ;  and  those  who  think 
that  marriage  is  to  be  placed  on  an  equal  foot- 
ing with  virginity  are  utterly  wretched  and 
foolish.  But  this  distinction  must  be  maintained 
by  wise  people,  that  marriage  belongs  to  those 
things  which  may  be  excused,  while  virginity 
points  to  glory,  and  fornication  must  incur  pun- 
ishment unless  its  guilt  is  purged  away  through 
atonement.' 


CHAPTER  XL 

"  A  certain  soldier  had  renounced  the  mili- 
tary *  life  in  the  Church,  having  professed  him- 
self a  monk,  and  had  erected  a  cell  for  himself 
at  a  distance  in  the  desert,  as  if  with  the  pur- 
pose of  leading  the  life  of  an  eremite.  But 
in  course  of  time  the  crafty  adversary  harassed 
his  unspiritual 2  nature  with  various  thoughts,  to 
the  effect  that,  changing  his  mind,  he  should 
express  a  desire  that  his  wife,  whom  Martin  had 
ordered  to  have  a  place  in  the  nunnery  3  of  the 
young  women,  should  rather  dwell  along  with 
him.  The  courageous  eremite,  therefore,  visits 
Martin,  and  makes  known  to  him  what  he  had 
in  his  mind.  But  Martin  denied  very  strongly 
that  a  woman  could,  in  inconsistent  fashion,  be 
joined  again  to  a  man  who  was  now  a  monk, 
and  not  a  husband.  At  last,  when  the  soldier 
was  insisting  on  the  point  in  question ;  asserting 
that  no  evil  would  follow  from  carrying  out  his 
purpose ;  that  he  simply  desired  to  possess  the 
solace  of  his  wife's  company ;  and  that  there 
was  no  fear  of  his   again  returning  to  his  own 


1  "cingulum":   lit.  a  girdle,   or  sword-belt,   and  then  put   for 
military  service. 

2  "  brutum    pectus":     the  words  seem  to  refer  to  the  man  as 
i//vx"<05,  in  opposition  to  iri'eu/j.aTtKOS. 

3  "  monasterio." 


44 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


pursuits  ;  adding  that  he  was  a  soldier  of  Christ, 
and  that  she  also  had  taken  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance in  the  same  service ;  and  that  the  bishop 
therefore  should  allow  to  serve  as  soldiers  to- 
gether people  who  were  saints,  and  who,  in  vir- 
tue of  their  faith,  totally  ignored  the  question  of 
sex, — -then  Martin  (I  am  going  to  repeat  his 
very  words  to  you)  exclaimed  :  '  Tell  me  if  you 
have  ever  been  in  war,  and  if  you  have  ever 
stood  in  the  line  of  battle?'  In  answer  he 
said,  '  Frequently  ;  I  have  often  stood  in  line  of 
battle,  and  been  present  in  war.'  On  this 
Martin  replies  :  '  Well,  then,  tell  me,  did  you 
ever  in  a  line  which  was  prepared  with  arms 
for  battle,  or,  having  already  advanced  near, 
was  fighting  against  a  hostile  army  with  drawn 
sword  —  did  you  ever  see  any  woman  standing 
there,  or  fighting  ?  '  Then  at  length  the  soldier 
became  confused  and  blushed,  while  he  gave 
thanks  that  he  had  not  been  permitted  to  fol- 
low his  own  evil  counsel,  and  at  the  same  time 
had  not  been  put  right  by  the  use  of  any  harsh 
language,  but  by  a  true  and  rational  analogy, 
connected  with  the  person  of  a  soldier.  Mar- 
tin, for  his  part,  turning  to  us  (for  a  great 
crowd  of  brethren  had  surrounded  him),  said  : 
'  Let  not  a  woman  enter  the  camp  of  men,  but 
let  the  line  of  soldiers  remain  separate,  and  let 
the  females,  dwelling  in  their  own  tent,  be  re- 
mote from  that  of  men.  For  this  renders  an 
army  ridiculous,  if  a  female  crowd  is  mixed  with 
the  regiments  of  men.  Let  the  soldier  occupy 
the  line,  let  the  soldier  fight  in  the  plain,  but 
let  the  woman  keep  herself  within  the  protection 
of  the  walls.  She,  too,  certainly  has  her  own 
glory,  if,  when  her  husband  is  absent,  she  main- 
tains her  chastity ;  and  the  first  excellence,  as 
well  as  completed  victory  of  that,  is,  that  she 
should  not  be  seen.' 


CHAPTER   XII. 

"  I  believe,  my  dear  Sulpitius,  that  you  re- 
member with  what  emphasis  he  extolled  to  us 
(when  you  too  were  present)  that  virgin  who 
had  so  completely  withdrawn  herself  from  the 
eyes  of  all  men,  that  she  did  not  admit  to  her 
presence  Martin  himself,  when  he  wished  to  visit 
her  in  the  discharge  of  duty.  For  when  he  was 
passing  by  the  little  property,  within  which  for 
several  years  she  had  chastely  confined  herself, 
having  heard  of  her  faith  and  excellence,  he 
turned  out  of  his  way  that,  as  a  bishop,  he  might 
honor,  with  pious  respect,  a  girl  of  such  eminent 
merit.  We  who  journeyed  with  him  thought 
that  that  virgin  would  rejoice,  inasmuch  as  she 
was  to  obtain  such  a  testimony  to  her  virtue, 
while  a  priest  of  so  great  reputation,  departing 
from  his  usual  rigor  of  conduct,  paid  her  a  visit. 


But  she  did  not  relax  those  bonds  of  a  most 
severe  method  of  lifej  which  she  had  imposed 
upon  herself,  even  by  allowing  herself  to  see 
Martin.  And  thus  the  blessed  man,  having 
received,  through  another  woman,  her  praise- 
worthy apology,  joyfully  departed  from  the 
doors  of  her  who  had  not  permitted  herself  to 
be  seen  or  saluted.  O  glorious  virgin,  who  did 
not  allow  herself  to  be  looked  upon  even  by 
Martin  !  O  blessed  Martin,  who  did  not  regard 
that  repulse  as  being  any  insult  to  himself,  but, 
extolling  with  exultant  heart  her  excellence, 
rejoiced  in  an  example  only  too  rare  in  that 
locality  !  Well,  when  approaching  night  had 
compelled  us  to  stay  at  no  great  distance  from 
her  humble  dwelling,  that  same  virgin  sent  a 
present  to  the  blessed  man ;  and  Martin  did 
what  he  had  never  done  before  (for  he  accepted 
a  present  or  gift  from  nobody),  he  refused  none 
of  those  things  which  the  estimable  virgin  had 
sent  him,  declaring  that  her  blessing  was  by  no 
means  to  be  rejected  by  a  priest,  since  she  was 
indeed  to  be  placed  before  many  priests.  Let, 
I  beg,  virgins  listen  to  that  example,  so  that  they 
shall,  if  they  desire  to  close  their  doors  to  the 
wicked,  even  shut  them  against  the  good  ;  and 
that  the  ill-disposed  may  have  no  free  access  to 
them,  they  shall  not  fear  even  to  exclude  priests 
from  their  society.  Let  the  whole  world  listen 
attentively  to  this  :  a  virgin  did  not  permit  her- 
self to  be  looked  upon  by  Martin.  And  it  was 
no  common  l  priest  whom  she  repulsed,  but  the 
girl  refused  to  come  under  the  eyes  of  a  man 
whom  it  was  the  salvation  of  onlookers  to  be- 
hold. But  what  priest,  besides  Martin,  would 
not  have  regarded  this  as  doing  an  injury  to 
him?  What  irritation  and  fury  would  he  have 
conceived  in  his  mind  against  that  virgin?  He 
would  have  deemed  her  a  heretic  ;  and  would 
have  resolved  that  she  should  be  laid  under  an 
anathema.  And  how  surely  would  such  a  man 
have  preferred  to  that  blessed  soul  those  virgins 
who  are  always  throwing  themselves  in  the  way 
of  the  priest,  who  get  up  sumptuous  entertain- 
ments, and  who  recline  at  table  with  the  rest  ! 
But  whither  is  my  speech  carrying  me  ?  That 
somewhat  too  free  manner  of  speaking  must  be 
checked,  lest  perchance  it  may  give  offense  to 
some  ;  for  words  of  reproach  will  not  profit  the 
unfaithful,  while  the  example  quoted  will  be 
enough  for  the  faithful.  At  the  same  time,  I 
wish  so  to  extol  the  virtue  of  this  virgin,  as 
nevertheless  to  think  that  no  deduction  is  to  be 
made  from  the  excellence  of  those  others,  who 
often  came  from  remote  regions  for  the  purpose 
of  seeing  Martin,  since  indeed,  with  the  same 
object  in  view,  even  angels  ofttimes  visited  the 
blessed  man. 


1  "  quemcumque,"  in  the  sense  of  qualemcumque,  which  is,  in 
fact,  found  in  some  of  the  MSS. 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


45 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

"  But  in  what  I  am  now  about  to  narrate,  I 
possess  you,  Sulpitius  "  (here  he  looked  at  me) 
"  as  a  fellow-witness.  One  day,  I  and  Sulpitius 
there  were  watching  before  Martin's  door,  and 
had  already  sat  in  silence  for  several  hours.  We 
did  so  with  deep  reverence  and  awe,  as  if  we 
were  carrying  out  a  watch  prescribed  to  us 
before  the  tent  of  an  angel ;  while,  all  the  time, 
the  door  of  his  cell  being  closed,  he  did  not 
know  that  we  were  there.  Meanwhile,  we  heard 
the  sound  of  people  conversing,  and  by  and  by 
we  were  filled  with  a  kind  of  awe  and  amaze- 
ment, for  we  could  not  help  perceiving  that 
something  divine  was  going  on.  After  nearly 
two  hours,  Martin  comes  out  to  us ;  and  then 
our  friend  Sulpitius  (for  no  one  was  accustomed 
to  speak  to  him  more  familiarly)  began  to  en- 
treat him  to  make  known  to  us,  piously  enquiring 
on  the  subject,  what  meant  that  sort  of  Divine 
awe  which  we  confessed  we  had  both  felt,  and 
with  whom  he  had  been  conversing  in  his  cell. 
We  added  that,  as  we  stood  before  the  door,  we 
had  undoubtedly  heard  a  feeble  sound  of  people 
talking,  but  had  scarcely  understood  it.  Then 
he  after  a  long  delay  (but  there  was  really  noth- 
ing which  Sulpitius  could  not  extort  from  him 
even  against  his  will :  I  am  about  to  relate  things 
somewhat  difficult  of  belief,  but,  as  Christ  is  my 
witness,  I  lie  not,  unless  any  one  is  so  impious 
as  to  think  that  Martin  himself  lied)  saicL:  '  I 
will  tell  you,  but  I  beg  you  will  not  speak  of  it  to 
any  one  else.  Agnes,  Thecla,  and  Mary  were 
there  with  me.'  He  proceeded  to  describe  to 
us  the  face  and  general  aspect  of  each.  And 
he  acknowledged  that,  not  merely  on  that  day, 
but  frequently,  he  received  visits  from  them. 
Nor  did  he  deny  that  Peter  also  and  Paul,  the 
Apostles,  were  pretty  frequently  seen  by  him. 
Moreover,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  rebuking  the 
demons  by  their  special  names,  according  as  they 
severally  came  to  him.  He  found  Mercury  a 
cause  of  special  annoyance,  while  he  said  that 
Jupiter  was  stupid  and  doltish.  I  am  aware 
that  these  things  seemed  incredible  even  to 
many  who  dwelt  in  the  same  monastery ;  and 
far  less  can  I  expect  that  all  who  simply  hear  of 
them  will  believe  them.  For  unless  Martin  had 
lived  such  an  inestimable  life,  and  displayed 
such  excellence,  he  would  by  no  means  be  re- 
garded among  us  as  having  been  endowed  with  so 
great  glory.  And  yet  it  is  not  at  all  wonderful 
that  human  infirmity  doubted  concerning  the 
works  of  Martin,  when  we  see  that  many  at  the 
present  day  do  not  even  believe  the  Gospels. 
But  we  have  ourselves  had  personal  knowledge 
and  experience,  that  angels  often  appeared  and 
spoke  familiarly  with  Martin.     As  bearing  upon 


this,  I  am  to  narrate  a  matter,  of  small  impor- 
tance indeed,  but  still  I  will  state  it.  A  synod, 
composed  of  bishops,  was  held  at  Nemausus, 
and  while  he  had  refused  to  attend  it,  he  wass 
nevertheless  desirous  of  knowing  what  was  done 
at  it.  It  so  happened  that  our  friend  Sulpitiu? 
was  then  on  board  ship  with  him,  but,  as  was 
his  custom,  he  kept  his  place  at  a  distance  from 
the  rest,  in  a  retired  part  of  the  vessel.  There 
an  angel  announced  to  him  what  had  taken 
place  in  the  synod.  And  when,  afterwards,  we 
carefully  enquired  into  the  time  at  which  the 
council  was  held,  we  found,  beyond  all  doubt, 
that  that  was  the  very  day  of  the  council,  and 
that  those  things  were  there  decreed  by  the 
bishops  which  the  angel  had  announced  to 
Martin. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

"  But  when  we  questioned  him  concerning  the 
end  of  the  world,  he  said  to  us  that  Nero  and 
Antichrist  have  first  to  come  ;  that  Nero  will 
rule  in  the  Western  portion  of  the  world,  after 
having  subdued  ten  kings ;  and  that  a  persecu- 
tion will  be  carried  on  by  him,  with  the  view  of 
compelling  men  to  worship  the  idols  of  the 
Gentiles.  He  also  said  that  Antichrist,  on  the 
other  hand,  would  first  seize  upon  the  empire  of 
the  East,  having  his  seat  and  the  capital  of  his 
kingdom  at  Jerusalem  ;  while  both  the  city  and 
the  temple  would  be  restored  by  him.  He 
added  that  his  persecution  would  have  for  its 
object  to  compel  men  to  deny  Christ  as  God, 
while  he  maintained  rather  that  he  himself  was 
Christ,  and  ordered  all  men  to  be  circumcised, 
according  to  the  law.  He  further  said  that 
Nero  was  to  be  destroyed  by  Antichrist,  and 
that  the  whole  world,  and  all  nations,  were  to 
be  reduced  under  the  power  of  Antichrist,  until 
that  impious  one  should  be  overthrown  by  the 
coming  of  Christ.  He  told  us,  too,  that  there 
was  no  doubt  but  that  Antichrist,  having  been 
conceived  by  an  evil  spirit,  was  already  born, 
and  had,  by  this  time,  reached  the  years  of  boy- 
hood, while  he  would  assume  power  as  soon  as 
he  reached  the  proper  age.  Now,  this  is  the 
eighth  year  since  we  heard  these  words  from  his 
lips :  you  may  conjecture,  then,  how  nearly 
about  to  happen  are  those  things  which  are 
feared  in  the  future." 

As  our  friend  the  Gaul  was  emphatically 
speaking  thus,  and  had  not  yet  finished  what  he 
intended  to  relate,  a  boy  of  the  family  entered 
with  the  announcement  that  the  presbyter  Re- 
frigerius  was  standing  at  the  door.  We  began 
to  doubt  whether  it  would  be  better  to  hear  the 
Gaul  further,  or  to  go  and  welcome  that  man 
whom  we  so  greatly  loved,  and  who  had  come 


46 


DIALOGUES    OF   SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


to  pay  his  respects  to  us,  when  our  friend  the 
Gaul  remarked  :  "  Even  although  this  most  holy 
priest  had  not  arrived,  this  talk  of  ours  would 
have  had  to  be  cut  short,  for  the  approach  of 
night  was  itself  urging  us  to  finish  the  discourse 
which  has  been  so  far  continued.  But  inas- 
much as  all  things  bearing  upon  the  excellences 
of  Martin  have  by  no  means  yet  been  men- 
tioned, let  what  you  have  heard  suffice  for 
to-day  :  to-morrow  we  shall  proceed  to  what  re- 
mains." This  promise  of  our  Gallic  friend 
being  equally  acceptable  to  us  all,  we  rose  up. 


DIALOGUE    III. 

THE   VIRTUES    OF    MARTIN    CONTINUED. 

CHAPTER   I. 

"  It  is  daylight,  our  Gallic  friend,  and  you 
must  get  up.  For,  as  you  see,  both  Postumi- 
anus  is  urgent,  and  this  presbyter,  who  was  yes- 
terday admitted  to  hear  what  was  going  on,  ex- 
pects that  what  you  put  off  narrating  with  regard 
to  our  beloved  Martin  till  to-day,  you  should 
now,  in  fulfillment  of  your  promise,  proceed  to 
tell.  He  is  not,  indeed,  ignorant  of  all  the 
things  which  are  to  be  related,  but  knowledge  is 
sweet  and  pleasant  even  to  one  who  goes  over 
again  things  already  known  to  him  ;  since,  in- 
deed, it  has  been  so  arranged  by  nature  that 
one  rejoices  with  a  better  conscience  in  his 
knowledge  of  things  which  he  is  sure,  through 
the  testimony  borne  to  them  by  many,  are  not 
in  any  degree  uncertain.  For  this  man,  too, 
having  been  a  follower  of  Martin  from  his  early 
youth,  has  indeed  been  acquainted  with  all  his 
doings ;  but  he  gladly  hears  over  again  things 
already  known.  And  I  will  confess  to  thee,  O 
Gaul,  that  the  virtues  of  Martin  have  often  been 
heard  of  by  me,  since,  in  fact,  I  have  committed 
to  writing  many  things  regarding  him ;  but 
through  the  admiration  I  feel  for  his  deeds, 
those  things  are  always  new  to  me  which,  al- 
though I  have  already  heard  them,  are,  over  and 
over  again,  repeated  concerning  him.  Where- 
fore, we  congratulate  you  that  Refrigerius  has 
been  added  to  us  as  a  hearer,  all  the 1  more 
earnestly  that  Postumianus  is  manifesting  such 
eagerness,  because  he  hastens,  as  it  were,  to  con- 
vey a  knowledge  of  these  things  to  the  East, 
and  is  now  to  hear  the  truth  from  you  confirmed, 
so  to  speak,  by  witnesses." 

As  I  was  saying  these  words,  and  as  the  Gaul 
was  now  ready  to  resume  his  narrative,  there 
rushes  in  upon  us  a  crowd  of  monks,  Evagrius 
the  presbyter,  xAper,  Sabbatius,  Agricola ;  and,  a 

1  The  original  is  here  very  obscuve. 


little  after,  there  enters  the  presbyter  ^Etherius, 
with  Calupio  the  deacon,  and  Amator  the  sub- 
deacon  ;  lastly,  Aurelius  the  presbyter,  a  very 
dear  friend  of  mine,  who  came  from  a  longer 
distance,  rushes  up  out  of  breath.  "  Why,"  I 
enquire,  "  do  you  so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly 
run  together  to  us  from  so  many  different  quar- 
ters, and  at  so  early  an  hour  in  the  morning?  " 
"  We,"  they  reply,  "  heard  yesterday  that  your 
friend  the  Gaul  spent  the  whole  day  in  narrating 
the  virtues  of  Martin,  and,  as  night  overtook 
him,  put  off  the  rest  until  to-day  :  wherefore,  we 
have  made  haste  to  furnish  him  with  a  crowded 
audience,  as  he  speaks  about  such  interesting 
matters."  In  the  meantime,  we  are  informed 
that  a  multitude  of  lay  people  are  standing  at 
the  door,  not  venturing  to  enter,  but  begging, 
nevertheless,  that,  they  might  be  admitted. 
Then  Aper  declares,  "  It  is  by  no  means  proper 
that  these  people  should  be  mixed  up  with  us, 
for  they  have  come  to  hear,  rather  from  curi- 
osity than  piety."  I  was  grieved  for  the  sake 
of  those  who  ought  not,  as  he  thought,  to  be 
admitted,  but  all  that  I  could  obtain,  and  with 
difficulty,  was  that  they  should  admit  Eucher- 
ius  from  among  the  lieutenants,2  and  Celsus,  a 
man  of  consular  rank,  while  the  rest  were  kept 
back.  We  then  place  the  Gaul  in  the  middle 
seat ;  and  he,  after  long  keeping  silence,  in  har- 
mony with  his  well-known  modesty,  at  length 
began  as  follows. 


CHAPTER   II. 

"  You  have  assembled,  my  pious  and  eloquent 
friends,  to  hear  me ;  but,  as  I  presume,  you 
have  brought  to  the  task  religious  rather  than 
learned  ears  ;  for  you  are  to  listen  to  me  simply 
as  a  witness  to  the  faith,  and  not  as  speaking 
with  the  fluency  of  an  orator.  Now,  I  shall  not 
repeat  the  things  which  were  spoken  yesterday  : 
those  who  did  not  hear  them  can  become  ac- 
quainted with  them  by  means  of  the  written 
records.  Postumianus  expects  something  new, 
intending  to  make  known  what  he  hears  to  the 
East,  that  it  may  not,  when  Martin  is  brought 
into  comparison,  esteem  itself  above  the  West. 
And  first,  my  mind  inclines  to  set  forth  an  inci- 
dent respecting  which  Refrigerius  has  just  whis- 
pered in  my  ear  :  the  affair  took  place  in  the 
city  of  Carnutes.  A  certain  father  of  a  family 
ventured  to  bring  to  Martin  his  daughter  of 
twelve  years  old,  who  had  been  dumb  from  her 
birth,  begging  that  the  blessed  man  would  loose, 
by  his  pious  merits,  her  tongue,  which  was  thus 
tied.  He,  giving  way  to  the  bishops  Valentinus 
and  Victricius,  who  then  happened  to  be  by  his 


ex  vicarns. 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


47 


side,  declared  that  he  was  unequal  to  so  great 
an  undertaking,  but  that  nothing  was  impossible 
to  them,  as  if  holier  than  himself.  But  they, 
adding  their  pious  entreaties,  with  suppliant 
voices,  to  those  of  the  father,  begged  Martin  to 
accomplish  what  was  hoped  for.  He  made  no 
further  delay,  —  being  admirable  in  both  re- 
spects, in  the  display,  first  of  all,  of  humility, 
and  then  in  not  putting  off  a  pious  duty,  —  but 
orders  the  crowd  of  people  standing  round  to 
be  removed  ;  and  while  the  bishops  only,  and 
the  father  of  the  girl,  were  present,  he  pros- 
trates himself  in  prayer,  after  his  usual  fashion. 
He  then  blesses  a  little  oil,  while  he  utters  the 
formula  of  exorcism ;  and  holding  the  tongue 
of  the  girl  with  his  fingers,  he  thus  pours  the 
consecrated  liquid  into  her  mouth.  Nor  did 
the  result  of  the  power  thus  exerted  disappoint 
the  holy  man.  He  asks  her  the  name  of  her 
father,  and  she  instantly  replied.  The  father 
cries  out,  embracing  the  knees  of  Martin,  with 
a  mixture  of  joy  and  tears ;  and  while  all 
around  are  amazed,  he  confesses  that  then  for 
the  first  time  he  listened  to  the  voice  of  his 
daughter.  And  that  this  may  not  appear  in- 
credible to  any  one,  let  Evagrius,  who  is  here, 
furnish  you  with  a  testimony  of  its  truth ;  for 
the  thing  took  place  in  his  very  presence. 


CHAPTER   III. 

"The  following  is  a  small  matter  which  I 
learned  lately  from  the  narration  of  Arpagius 
the  presbyter,  but  I  do  not  think  it  ought  to  be 
passed  over.  The  wife  of  the  courtier  Avitianus 
had  sent  some  oil  to  Martin,  that  he  might  bless 
it  (such  is  the  custom)  so  as  to  be  ready  when 
needful  to  meet  different  causes  of  disease.  It 
was  contained  in  a  glass  jar  of  a  shape  which, 
round  throughout,  gradually  bulges  :  out  towards 
the  middle,  with  a  long  neck ;  but  the  hol- 
low of  the  extended  neck  was  not  filled,  be- 
cause it  is  the  custom  to  fill  vessels  of  the  kind 
in  such  a  way  that  the  top  may  be  left  free 
for  the  knobs  which  stop  up  the  jar.  The  pres- 
byter testified  that  he  saw  the  oil  increase  under 
the  blessing  of  Martin,  so  much  that,  the  abun- 
dance of  it  overflowing  the  jar,  it  ran  down  from 
the  top  in  every  direction.  He  added  that  it 
bubbled  up  with  the  same  2  effect,  while  the  vessel 
was  being  carried  back  to  the  mistress  of  the 
household ;  for  the  oil  so  steadily  flowed  over  in 
the  hands  of  the  boy  carrying  it,  that  the  abun- 
dance of  the  liquid,  thus  pouring  down,  covered 
all  his  garment.  He  said,  moreover,  that  the 
lady  received  the  vessel  so  full  even  to  the  brim, 


1  The  text  of  this  sentence  is  very  uncertain,  and  the  meaning 
somewhat  obscure. 

2  Here,  again,  the  text  is  in  confusion. 


that  (as  the  same  presbyter  tells 3  us  at  the  pres- 
ent day)  there  was  no  room  in  that  jar  for  insert- 
ing the  stopper  by  which  people  are  accustomed 
to  close  those  vessels,  the  contents  of  which  are 
to  be  preserved  with  special  care.  That,  too, 
was  a  remarkable  thing  that  happened  to  this 
man."  Here  he  looked  at  me.  "  He  had  set  down 
a  glass  vessel  containing  oil  blessed  by  Martin  in 
a  pretty  high  window ;  and  a  boy  of  the  family, 
not  knowing  that  a  jar  was  there,  drew  towards 
him  the  cloth  covering' it,  with  rather  much  vio- 
lence. The  vessel,  in  consequence,  fell  down 
on  the  marble  pavement.  Upon  this,  all  were 
filled  with  dread  lest  the  blessing  of  God,  be- 
stowed on  the  vessel  by  Martin,  had  been  lost ; 
but  the  jar  was  found  as  safe  as  ever,  just  as  if 
it  had  fallen  on  the  softest  feathers.  Now,  this 
result  should  be  ascribed,  not  so  much  to  chance, 
as  to  the  power  of  Martin,  whose  blessing  could 
not  possibly  perish. 

"  There  is  this,  too,  which  was  effected  by  a 
certain  person,  whose  name,  because  he  is  pres- 
ent, and  has  forbidden  it  to  be  mentioned,  shall 
be  suppressed  :  Saturninus  too,  who  is  now  with 
us,  was  present  on  the  occasion  referred  to.  A 
dog  was  barking  at  us  in  a  somewhat  disagree- 
able manner.  ■ '  I  command  thee,'  said  the  per- 
son in  question,  '  in  the  name  of  Martin,  to  be 
quiet.'  The  dog — his  barking  seemed  to  stick 
in  his  throat,  and  one  might  have  thought  that 
his  tongue  had  been  cut  out  —  was  silent. 
Thus  it  is  really  a  small  matter  that  Martin  him- 
self performed  miracles  :  believe  me  that  other 
people  also  have  accomplished  many  things  in 
his  name. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

"  You  knew  the  too  barbarous  and,  beyond 
measure,  bloody  ferocity  of  Avitianus,  a  former 
courtier.  He  enters  the  city  of  the  Turones 
with  a  furious  spirit,  while  rows  of  people,  laden 
with  chains,  followed  him  with  melancholy  looks, 
orders  various  kinds  of  punishments  to  be  got 
ready  for  slaying  them  ;  and  to  the  grave  amaze- 
ment of  the  city,  he  arranges  them  for  the  sad 
work  on  the  following  day.  When  this  became 
known  to  Martin,  he  set  out  all  alone,  a  little 
before  midnight,  for  the  palace  of  that  beast. 
But  when,  in  the  silence  of  the  depths  of  the 
night,  and  as  all  were  at  rest,  no  entrance  was 
possible  through  the  bolted  doors,  he  lays  him- 
self down  before  that  cruel  threshold.  In  the 
meantime,  Avitianus,  buried  in  deep  sleep,  is 
smitten  by  an  assailing  angel,  who  says  to  him, 
'  Does  the  servant  of  God  lie  at  your  threshold, 
and  do  you  continue  sleeping  ?  '  He,  on  listen- 
ing to  these  words,  rises,  in  much  disturbance, 
from  his  bed ;  and  calling  his  servants,  he  ex- 


3  Text  and  meaning  both  very  obscure. 


48 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


claims  in  terror,  '  Martin  is  at  the  door :  go 
immediately,  and  undo  the  bolts,  that  the  ser- 
vant of  God  may  suffer  no  harm.'  But  they,  in 
accordance  with  the  tendency  of  all  servants, 
having  scarcely  stepped  beyond  the  first  thresh- 
old, and  laughing  at  their  master  as  having 
been  mocked  by  a  dream,  affirm  that  there  was 
no  one  at  the  door.  This  they  did  as  simply 
inferring  from  their  own  disposition,  that  no  one 
could  be  keeping  watch  through  the  night,  while 
far  less  did  they  believe  that  a  priest  was  lying 
at  the  threshold  of  another  man  during  the 
horror  of  that  night.  Well,  they  easily  per- 
suaded Avitianus  of  the  truth  of  their  story. 
He  again  sinks  into  sleep  ;  but,  being  ere  long 
struck  with  greater  violence  than  before,  he  ex- 
claimed that  Martin  was  standing  at  the  door, 
and  that,  therefore,  no  rest  either  of  mind  or 
body  was  allowed  him.  As  the  servants  delayed, 
he  himself  went  forward  to  the  outer  threshold  ; 
and  there  he  found  Martin,  as  he  had  thought 
he  would.  The  wretched  man,  struck  by  the 
display  of  so  great  excellence,  exclaimed,  '  Why, 
sir,  have  you  done  this  to  me?  There  is  no 
need  for  you  to  speak  :  I  know  what  you  wish  : 
I  see  what  you  require  :  depart  as  quickly  as 
possible,  lest  the  anger  of  heaven  consume  me 
on  account  of  the  injury  done  you  :  I  have 
already  suffered  sufficient  punishment.  Believe 
me,  that  I  have  firmly  determined  in  my  own 
mind  how  I  should  now  proceed.'  So  then, 
after  the  departure  of  the  holy  man,  he  calls  for 
his  officials  and  orders  all  the  prisoners  to  be 
set  free,  while  presently  he  himself  went  his  way. 
Thus  Avitianus  being  put  to  flight,  the  city 
rejoiced,  and  felt  at  liberty. 


CHAPTER   V. 

"  While  these  are  certain  facts,  since  Avitianus 
related  them  to  many  persons,  they  are  further 
confirmed  on  this  ground  that  Refrigerius  the 
presbyter,  whom  you  see  here  present,  lately  had 
them  narrated  to  him,  under  an  appeal  to  the 
Divine  majesty,  by  Dagridus,  a  faithful  man 
among  the  tribunes,  who  swore  that  the  account 
was  given  him  by  Avitianus  himself.  But  I  do 
not  wish  you  to  wonder  that  I  do  to-day  what 
I  did  not  do  yesterday ;  viz.  that  I  subjoin  to  the 
mention  of  every  individual  wonder  the  names 
of  witnesses,  and  mention  persons  to  whom,  if 
any  one  is  inclined  to  disbelieve,  he  may  have 
recourse,  because  they  are  still  in  the  body. 
The  unbelief  of  very  many  has  compelled  that ; 
for  they  are  said  to  hesitate  about  some  things 
which  were  related  yesterday.  Let  these  people, 
then,  accept  as  witnesses  persons  who  are  still 
alive  and  well,  and  let  them  give  more  credit  to 
such,  inasmuch  as   they  doubt   our  good  faith. 


But  really,  if  they  are  so  unbelieving,  I  give  it 
as  my  opinion  that  they  will  not  believe  even 
the  witnesses  named.  And  yet  I  am  surprised 
that  any  one,  who  has  even  the  least  sense  of 
religion,  can  venture  on  such  wickedness  as  to 
think  that  any  one  could  tell  lies  concerning 
Martin.  Be  that  far  from  every  one  who  lives 
in  obedience  to  God ;  for,  indeed,  Martin  does 
not  require  to  be  defended  by  falsehoods.  But, 
O  Christ,  we  lay  the  truth  of  our  whole  discourse 
before  thee,  to  the  effect  that  we  neither  have 
said,  nor  will  say,  anything  else  than  what  either 
we  ourselves  have  witnessed,  or  have  learned 
from  undoubted  authorities,  and,  indeed,  very 
frequently  from  Martin  himself.  But  although 
we  have  adopted  the  form  of  a  dialogue,  in 
order  that  the  style  might  be  varied  to  prevent 
weariness,  still  we  affirm  that  we  are  really  set- 
ting forth  1  a  true  history  in  a  dutiful  spirit.  The 
unbelief  of  some  has  compelled  me,  to  my  great 
regret,  to  insert  in  my  narrative  these  remarks 
which  are  apart  from  the  subject  in  hand.  But 
let  the  discourse  now  return  to  our  assembly ; 
in  which  since  I  saw  that  I  was  listened  to  so 
eagerly,  I  found  it  necessary  to  acknowledge  that 
Aper  acted  properly  in  keeping  back  the  un- 
believing, under  the  conviction  he  had  that  those 
only  ought  to  be  allowed  to  hear  who  were  of  a 
believing  spirit. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

"  I  am  enraged  in  heart,  believe  me,  and, 
through  vexation,  I  seem  to  lose  my  senses  :  do 
Christian  men  not  believe  in  the  miraculous 
powers  of  Martin,  which  the  demons  acknowl- 
edged ? 

"  The  monastery  of  the  blessed  man  was  at 
two  miles'  distance  from  the  city ;  but  if,  as 
often  as  he  was  to  come  to  the  church,  he  only 
had  set  his  foot  outside  the  threshold  of  his 
cell,  one  could  perceive  the  possessed  roaring 
through  the  whole  church,  and  the  bands  of 
guilty1  ones  trembling  as  if  their  judge  were 
coming,  so  that  the  groanings  of  the  demons 
announced  the  approach  of  the  bishop  to  the 
clerics,  who  were  not  previously  aware  that  he 
was  coming.  I  saw  a  certain  man  snatched  up 
into  the  air  on  the  approach  of  Martin,  and 
suspended  there  with  his  hands  stretched  up- 
wards, so  that  he  could  in  no  way  touch  the 
ground  with  his  feet.  But  if  at  any  time  Mar- 
tin undertook  the  duty  of  exorcising  the  de- 
mons, he  touched  no  one  with  his  hands,  and 
reproached  no  one  in  words,  as  a  multitude  of 
expressions  is  generally  rolled  forth  by  the 
clerics  ;  but  the  possessed,  being  brought  up  to 


'  nos  pie  prasstruere  profitemur  historiae  veritatem." 
1  agmina  damnanda." 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


49 


him,  he  ordered  all  others  to  depart,  and  the 
doors  being  bolted,  clothed  in  sackcloth  and 
sprinkled  with  ashes,  he  stretched  himself  on  the 
ground  in  the  midst  of  the  church,  and  turned 
to  prayer.  Then  truly  might  one  behold  the 
wretched  beings  tortured  with  various  results  — 
some  hanging,  as  it  were,  from  a  cloud,  with 
their  feet  turned  upwards,  and  yet  their  gar- 
ments did  not  fall  down  over  their  faces,  lest 
the  part  of  their  body  which  was  exposed 
should  give  rise  to  shame  ;  while  in  another  part 
of  the  church  one  could  see  them  tortured  with- 
out any  question  being  addressed  to  them,  and 
confessing  their  crimes.  They  revealed  their 
names,  too,  of  their  own  accord ;  one  acknowl- 
edged that  he  was  Jupiter,  and  another  that  he 
was  Mercury.  Finally,  one  could  see  all  the 
servants  of  the  devil  suffering  agony,  along  with 
their  master,  so  that  we  could  not  help  acknowl- 
edging that  in  Martin  there  was  fulfilled  that 
which  is  written  that  '  the  saints  shall  judge 
angels.' 


CHAPTER   VII. 

"  There  was  a  certain  village  in  the  country 
of  the  Senones  which  was  every  year  annoyed 
with  hail.  The  inhabitants,  constrained  by  an 
extreme  of  suffering,  sought  help  from  Martin. 
A  highly  respectable  embassy  was  sent  to  him 
by  Auspicius,  a  man  of  the  rank  of  prefect, 
whose  fields  the  storm  had  been  wont  to  smite 
more  severely  than  it  did  those  of  others.  But 
Martin,  having  there  offered  up  prayer,  so  com- 
pletely freed  the  whole  district  from  the  pre- 
vailing plague,  that  for  twenty  .years,  in  which 
he  afterwards  remained  in  the  body,  no  one  in 
those  places  suffered  from  hail.  And  that  this 
may  not  be  thought  to  be  accidental,  but  rather 
effected  by  Martin,  the  tempest,  returning  afresh, 
once  more  fell  upon  the  district  in  the  year  in 
which  he  died.  The  world  thus  felt  the  de- 
parture of  a  believing  man  to  such  a  degree, 
that,  as  it  justly  rejoiced  in  his  life,  so  it  also 
bewailed  his  death.  But  if  any  hearer,  weak  in 
faith,  demands  also  witnesses  to  prove  those 
things  which  we  have  said,  I  will  bring  forward, 
not  one  man,  but  many  thousands,  and  will  even 
summon  the  whole  region  of  the  Senones  to 
bear  witness  to  the  power  which  was  experi- 
enced. But  not  to  speak  of  this,  you,  presby- 
ter Refrigerius,  remember,  I  believe,  that  we 
lately  had  a  conversation,  concerning  the  matter 
referred  to,  with  Romulus,  the  son  of  that 
Auspicius  I  mentioned,  an  honored  and  religious 
man.  He  related  the  points  in  question  to  us, 
as  if  they  had  not  been  previously  known ;  and 
as  he  was  afraid  of  constant  losses  in  future  har- 
vests,   he    did,  as  you  yourself  beheld,  regret, 


with   much   lamentation,   that  Martin  was   not 
preserved  up  to  this  time. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

"  But  to  return  to  Avitianus  :  while  at  every 
other  place,  and  in  all  other  cities,  he  displayed 
marks  of  horrible  cruelty,  at  Tours  alone  he  did 
no  harm.  Yes,  that  beast,  which  was  nourished 
by  human  blood,  and  by  the  slaughter  of  un- 
fortunate creatures,  showed  himself  meek  and 
peaceable  in  the  presence  of  the  blessed  man. 
I  remember  that  Martin  one  day  came  to  him, 
and  having  entered  his  private  apartment,  he 
saw  a  demon  of  marvelous  size  sitting  behind 
his  back.  Blowing  upon  him  from  a  distance 
(if  I  may,  as  a  matter  of  necessity,  make  use 
of  a  word  which  is  hardly  Latin1),  Avitianus 
thought  that  he  was  blowing  at  him,  and  ex- 
claimed, '  Why,  thou  holy  man,  dost  thou 
treat  me  thus  ? '  But  then  Martin  said,  '  It  is 
not  at  you,  but  at  him  who,  in  all  his  terrible- 
ness,  leans  over  your  neck.'  The  devil  gave 
way,  and  left  his  familiar  seat ;  and  it  is  well 
known  that,  ever  after  that  day,  Avitianus  was 
milder,  whether  because  he  now  understood  that 
he  had  always  been  doing  the  will  of  the  devil 
sitting  by  him,  or  because  the  unclean  spirit, 
driven  from  his  seat  by  Martin,  was  deprived  of 
the  power  of  attacking  him  ;  while  the  servant 
was  ashamed  of  his  master,  and  the  master  did 
not  force  on  his  servant. 

"  In  a  village  of  the  Ambatienses,  that  is  in 
an  old  stronghold,  which  is  now  largely  inhabited 
by  brethren,  you  know  there  is  a  great  idol- 
temple  built  up  with  labor.  The  building  had 
been  constructed  of  the  most  polished  stones 
and  furnished  with  turrets ;  and,  rising  on  high 
in  the  form  of  a  cone,  it  preserved  the  super- 
stition of  the  place  by  the  majesty  of  the  work. 
The  blessed  man  had  often  enjoined  its  de- 
struction on  Marcellus,  who  was  there  settled  as 
presbyter.  Returning  after  the  lapse  of  some 
time,  he  reproved  the  presbyter,  because  the 
edifice  of  the  idol-temple  was  still  standing. 
He  pleaded  in  excuse  that  such  an  immense 
structure  could  with  difficulty  be  thrown  down 
by  a  band  of  soldiers,  or  by  the  strength  of  a 
large  body  of  the  public,  and  far  less  should  Mar- 
tin think  it  easy  for  that  to  be  effected  by  means 
of  weak  clerics  or  helpless  monks.  Then  Martin, 
having  recourse  to  his  well-known  auxiliaries, 
spent  the  whole  night  in  watching  and  prayer  — 
with  the  result  that,  in  the  morning,  a  storm 
arose,  and  cast  down  even  to  its  foundations  the 
idol-temple.  Now  let  this  narrative  rest  on  the 
testimony  of  Marcellus. 


1  "  exsufflans." 


5o 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"  I  will  make  use  of  another  not  dissimilar 
marvel  in  a  like  kind  of  work,  having  the  con- 
currence of  Refrigerius  in  doing  so.  Martin 
was  prepared  to  throw  down  a  pillar  of  immense 
size,  on  the  top  of  which  an  idol  stood,  but 
there  was  no  means  by  which  effect  could  be 
given  to  his  design.  Well,  according  to  his 
usual  practice,  he  betakes  himself  to  prayer.  It 
is  undoubted  that  then  a  column,  to  a  certain 
degree  like  the  other,  rushed  down  from  heaven, 
and  falling  upon  the  idol,  it  crushed  to  powder 
the  whole  of  the  seemingly  indestructible  mass  : 
this  would  have  been  a  small  matter,  had  he 
only  in  an  invisible  way  made  use  of  the 
powers  of  heaven,  but  these  very  powers  were 
beheld  by  human  eyes  serving  Martin  in  a 
visible  manner. 

"  Again,  the  same  Refrigerius  is  my  witness 
that  a  woman,  suffering  from  an  issue  of  blood, 
when  she  had  touched  the  garment  of  Martin, 
after  the  example  of  the  woman  mentioned  in 
the  Gospel,  was  cured  in  a  moment  of  time. 

"  A  serpent,  cutting  its  way  through  a  river, 
was  swimming  towards  the  bank  on  which  we 
had  taken  our  stand.  '  In  the  name  of  the 
Lord,'  said  Martin, '  I  command  thee  to  return.' 
Instantly,  at  the  word  of  the  holy  man,  the 
venomous  beast  turned  round,  and  while  we 
looked  on,  swam  across  to  the  farther  bank. 
As  we  all  perceived  that  this  had  not  happened 
without  a  miracle,  he  groaned  deeply,  and  ex- 
claimed, '  Serpents  hear  me,  but  men  will  not 
hear. ' 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  Being  accustomed  to  eat  fish  at  the  time  of 
Easter,  he  enquired  a  little  before  the  hour  for 
refreshment,  whether  it  was  in  readiness.  Then 
Cato,  the  deacon,  to  whom  the  outward  man- 
agement of  the  monastery  belonged,  and  who 
was  himself  a  skillful  fisher,  tells  him  that  no 
capture  had  fallen  to  his  lot  the  whole  day,  and 
that  other  fishers,  who  used  to  sell  what  they 
caught,  had  also  been  able  to  do  nothing. 
'  Go,'  said  he,  '  let  down  your  line,  and  a  cap- 
ture will  follow.'  As  Sulpitius  there  has  already 
described,  we  had  our  dwelling  close  to  the 
river.  We  all  went,  then,  as  these  were  holidays, 
to  see  our  friend  fishing,  with  the  hopes  of  all 
on  the  stretch,  that  the  efforts  would  not  be  in 
vain  by  which,  under  the  advice  of  Martin  him- 
self, it  was  sought  to  obtain  fish  for  his  use.*  At 
the  first  throw  the  deacon  drew  out,  in  a  very 
small  net,  an  enormous  pike,  and  ran  joyfully 
back   to   the    monastery,  with   the   feeling  un- 


doubtedly to  which  some  poet  gave  utterance 
(for  we  use  a  learned  verse,  inasmuch  as  we  are 
conversing  with  learned  people)  — 

'  And  brought  his  captive  boar !  to  wondering  Argos.' 

"  Truly  that  disciple  of  Christ,  imitating  the 
miracles  performed  by  the  Saviour,  and  which 
he,  by  way  of  example,  set  before  the  view  of 
his  saints,  showed  Christ  also  working  in  him,, 
who,  glorifying  his  own  holy  follower  everywhere, 
conferred  upon  that  one  man  the  gifts  of  vari- 
ous graces.  Arborius,  of  the  imperial  body- 
guard, testifies  that  he  saw  the  hand  of  Martin 
as  he  was  offering  sacrifice,  clothed,  as  it  seemed, 
with  the  noblest  gems,  while  it  glittered  with  a 
purple  light ;  and  that,  when  his  right  hand  was 
moved,  he  heard  the  clash  of  the  gems,  as  they 
struck  together. 


CHAPTER  XL 

"  I  will  now  come  to  an  event  which  he  al- 
ways concealed,  owing  to  the  character  of  the 
times,  but  which  he  could  not  conceal  from  us. 
In  the  matter  referred  to,  there  is  this  of  a 
miraculous  nature,  that  an  angel  conversed,  face 
to  face,  with  him.  The  Emperor  Maximus, 
while  in  other  respects  doubtless  a  good  man, 
was  led  astray  by  the  advices  of  some  priests 
after  Priscillian  had  been  put  to  death.  He, 
therefore,  protected  by  his  royal  power  Ithacius 
the  bishop,  who  had  been  the  accuser  of  Pris- 
cillian, and  others  of  his  confederates,  whom  it 
is  not  necessary  to  name.  The  emperor  thus 
prevented  every  one  from  bringing  it  as  a  charge 
against  Ithacius,  that,  by  his  instrumentality,  a 
man  of  any  sort  had  been  condemned  to  death. 
Now  Martin,  constrained  to  go  to  the  court  by 
many  serious  causes  of  people  involved  in  suf- 
fering, incurred  the  whole  force  of  the  storm 
which  was  there  raging.  The  bishops  who  had 
assembled  at  Treves  were  retained  in  that  city, 
and  daily  communicating  with  Ithacius,  they  had 
made  common  cause  with  him.  When  it  was 
announced  to  them  expecting  no  such  informa- 
tion, that  Martin  was  coming,  completely  losing 
courage,  they  began  to  mutter  and  tremble 
among  themselves.  And  it  so  happened  that 
already,  under  their  influence,  the  emperor  had 
determined  to  send  some  tribunes  armed  with 
absolute  power  into  the  two  Spains,  to  search 
out  heretics,  and,  when  found,  to  deprive  them 
of  their  life  or  goods.  Now  there  was  no  doubt 
that  that  tempest  would  also  make  havoc  of 
multitudes  of  the  real  saints,  little  distinction 
being  made  between  the  various  classes  of  in- 


1  "  captivum  suera."  Probably  there  is  here  an  allusion  to  the 
capture  of  the  Erymanthian  boar  by  Hercules,  with  a  punning 
reference  to  a  secondary  meaning  of  sus  as  a  kind  of  fish. 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


51 


dividuals.  For  in  such  circumstances,  a  judg- 
ment was  formed  simply  by  appearances,  so  that 
one  was  deemed  a  heretic  rather  on  his  turning 
pale  from  fear,  or  wearing  a  particular  garment, 
than  by  the  faith  which  he  professed.  And  the 
bishops  were  well  aware  that  such  proceedings 
would  by  no  means  please  Martin ;  but,  con- 
scious of  evil  as  they  were,  this  was  a  subject 
of  deep  anxiety  to  them,  lest  when  he  came,  he 
should  keep  from  communion  with  them  ;  know- 
ing well  as  they  did,  that  others  would  not  be 
wanting  who,  with  his  example  to  guide  them, 
would  follow  the  bold  course  adopted  by  so 
great  a  man.  They  therefore  form  a  plan  with 
the  emperor,  to  this  effect,  that,  officials  of  the 
court  being  sent  on  to  meet  him,  Martin  should 
be  forbidden  to  come  any  nearer  to  that  city, 
unless  he  should  declare  that  he  would  maintain 
peace  with  the  bishops  who  were  living  there. 
But  he  skillfully  frustrated  their  object,  by  declar- 
ing that  he  would  come  among  them  with  the 
peace  of  Christ.  And  at  last,  having  entered 
during  the  night,  he  went  to  the  church,  simply 
for  the  purpose  of  prayer.  On  the  following 
day  he  betakes  himself  to  the  palace.  Besides 
many  other  petitions  which  he  had  to  present, 
and  which  it  would  be  tedious  to  describe,  the 
following  were  the  principal :  entreaties  in  be- 
half of  the  courtier  Narses,  and  the  president 
Leucadius,  both  of  whom  had  belonged  to  the 
party  of  Gratianus,  and  that,  with  more  than 
ordinary  zeal,  upon  which  this  is  not  the  time  to 
dilate,  and  who  had  thus  incurred  the  anger  of 
the  conqueror ;  but  his  chief  request  was,  that 
tribunes,  with  the  power  of  life  and  death, 
should  not  be  sent  into  the  Spains.  For  Martin 
felt  a  pious  solicitude  not  only  to  save  from 
danger  the  true  Christians  in  these  regions,  who 
were  to  be  persecuted  in  connection  with  that 
expedition,  but  to  protect  even  heretics  them- 
selves. But  on  the  first  and  second  day  the 
wily  emperor  kept  the  holy  man  in  suspense, 
whether  that  he  might  impress  on  him  the 
importance  of  the  affair,  or  because,  being  ob- 
noxious to  the  bishops,  he  could  not  be  recon- 
ciled to  them,  or  because,  as  most  people 
thought  at  the  time,  the  emperor  opposed  his 
wishes  from  avarice,  having  cast  a  longing  eye 
on  the  property  of  the  persons  in  question. 
For  we  are  told  that  he  was  really  a  man  dis- 
tinguished by  many  excellent  actions,  but  that 
he  was  not  successful  in  contending  against 
avarice.  This  may,  however,  have  been  due  to 
the  necessities  of  the  empire  at  the  time,  for 
the  treasury  of  the  state  had  been  exhausted  by 
former  rulers ;  and  he,  being  almost  constantly 
in  the  expectation  of  civil  wars,  or  in  a  state  of 
preparation  for  them,  may  easily  be  excused  for 
having,  by  all  sorts  of  expedients,  sought  re- 
sources for  the  defense  of  the  empire. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

"  In  the  meantime,  those  bishops  with  whom 
Martin  would  not  hold  communion  went  in  ter- 
ror to  the  king,  complaining  that  they  had  been 
condemned  beforehand ;  that  it  was  all  over 
with  them  as  respected  the  status  of  every  one 
of  them,  if  the  authority  of  Martin  was  now  to 
uphold  the  pertinacity  of  Theognitus,  who  alone 
had  as  yet  condemned  them  by  a  sentence  pub- 
licly pronounced ;  that  the  man  ought  not  to 
have  been  received  within  the  walls  ;  that  he 
was  now  not  merely  the  defender  of  heretics, 
but  their  vindicator ;  and  that  nothing  had 
really  been  accomplished  by  the  death  of  Pris- 
cillian,  if  Martin  were  to  act  the  part  of  his 
avenger.  Finally,  prostrating  themselves  with 
weeping  and  lamentation,  they  implored  the 
emperor 1  to  put  forth  his  power  against  this  one 
man.  And  the  emperor  was  not  far  from  being 
compelled  to  assign  to  Martin,  too,  the  doom 
of  heretics.  But  after  all,  although  he  was  dis- 
posed to  look  upon  the  bishops  with  too  great 
favor,  he  was  not  ignorant  that  Martin  excelled 
all  other  mortals  in  faith,  sanctity,  and  excel- 
lence :  he  therefore  tries  another  way  of  get- 
ting the  better  of  the  holy  man.  And  first  he 
sends  for  him  privately,  and  addresses  him  in 
the  kindest  fashion,  assuring  him  that  the  here- 
tics were  condemned  in  the  regular  course  of 
public  trials,  rather  than  by  the  persecutions  of 
the  priests ;  and  that  there  was  no  reason  why 
he  should  think  that  communion  with  Ithacius 
and  the  rest  of  that  party  was  a  thing  to  be 
condemned.  He  added  that  Theognitus  had  , 
created  disunion,  rather  by  personal  hatred,  than 
by  the  cause  he  supported  ;  and  that,  in  fact,  he 
was  the  only  person  who,  in  the  meantime,  had 
separated  himself  from  communion  :  while  no 
innovation  had  been  made  by  the  rest.  He 
remarked  further  that  a  synod,  held  a  few  days 
previously,  had  decreed  that  Ithacius  was  not 
chargeable  with  any  fault.  When  Martin  was 
but  little  impressed  by  these  statements,  the 
king  then  became  inflamed  with  anger,  and  hur- 
ried out  of  his  presence  ;  while,  without  delay, 
executioners  are  appointed  for  those  in  whose 
behalf  Martin  had  made  supplication. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

"  When  this  became  known  to  Martin,  he 
rushed  to  the  palace,  though  it  was  now  night. 
He  pledges  himself  that,  if  these  people  were 
spared,  he  would  communicate ;  only  let  the 
tribunes,  who  had  already  been  sent  to  the 
Spains   for  the  destruction  of  the  churches,  be 


1  "  potestatem  regiam." 


52 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


recalled.  There  is  no  delay  :  Maximus  grants 
all  his  requests.  On  the  following  day,  the  or- 
dination of  Felix  as  bishop  was  being  arranged, 
a  man  undoubtedly  of  great  sanctity,  and  truly 
worthy  of  being  made  a  priest  in  happier  times. 
Martin  took  part  in  the  communion  of  that  day, 
judging  it  better  to  yield  for  the  moment,  than 
to  disregard  the  safety  of  those  over  whose 
heads  a  sword  was  hanging.  Nevertheless,  al- 
though the  bishops  strove  to  the  uttermost  to 
get  him  to  confirm  the  fact  of  his  communi- 
cating by  signing  his  name,  he  could  not  be 
induced  to  do  so.  On  the  following  day,  hur- 
rying away  from  that  place,  as  he  was  on  the 
way  returning,  he  was  filled  with  mourning  and 
lamentation  that  he  had  even  for  an  hour  been 
mixed  up  with  the  evil  communion,  and,  not  far 
from  a  village  named  Andethanna,  where  remote 
woods  stretch 1  far  and  wide  with  profound  soli- 
tude, he  sat  down  while  his  companions  went 
on  a  little  before  him.  There  he  became  in- 
volved in  deep  thought,  alternately  accusing  and 
defending  the  cause  of  his  grief  and  conduct. 
Suddenly,  an  angel  stood  by  him  and  said, 
'  Justly,  O  Martin,  do  you  feel  compunction,  but 
you  could  not  otherwise  get  out  of  your  diffi- 
culty. Renew  your  virtue,  resume  your  courage, 
lest  you  not  only  now  expose  your  fame,  but 
your  very  salvation,  to  danger.'  Therefore,  from 
that  time  forward,  he  carefully  guarded  against 
being  mixed  up  in  communion  with  the  party 
of  Ithacius.  But  when  it  happened  that  he 
cured  some  of  the  possessed  more  slowly  and 
with  less  grace  than  usual,  he  at  once  confessed 
to  us  with  tears  that  he  felt  a  diminution  of  his 
power  on  account  of  the  evil  of  that  commun- 
ion in  which  he  had  taken  part  for  a  moment, 
through  necessity,  and  not  with  a  cordial  spirit. 
He  lived  sixteen  years  after  this,  but  never  again 
did  he  attend  a  synod,  and  kept  carefully  aloof 
from  all  assemblies  of  bishops. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

"  But  very  clearly,  as  we  experienced,  he  re- 
paired, with  manifold  interest,  his  grace,  which 
had  been  diminished  for  a  time.  I  saw  after- 
wards a  possessed  person  brought  to  him  at  the 
gats J  of  the  monastery ;  and  that,  before  the 
man  touched  the  threshold,  he  was  cured. 

"  I  lately  heard  one  testifying  that,  when  he 
was  sailing  on  the  Tuscan  Sea,  following  that 
course  which  leads  to  Rome,  whirlwinds  having 
suddenly  arisen,  all  on  board  were  in  extreme 


1  The  text  is  here  very  corrupt:  we  have  followed  a  conjecture 
of  Halm's. 

1  "  Pseudothyrum  "  ;  Halm  prefers  the  form  "  pseudoforum,"  but 
the  meaning  is  the  same. 


peril  of  their  lives.  In  these  circumstances,  a 
certain  Egyptian  merchant,  who  was  not  yet  a 
Christian,  cried  out,  '  Save  us,  O  God  of  Mar- 
tin,' upon  which  the  tempest  was  immediately 
stilled,  and  they  held  their  desired  course, 
while  the  pacified  ocean  continued  in  perfect 
tranquillity. 

"  Lycontius,  a  believing  man  belonging  to  the 
lieutenants,  when  a  violent  disease  was  afflicting 
his  family,  and  sick  bodies  were  lying  all  through 
his  house  in  sad  proof  of  unheard-of  calamity, 
implored  the  help  of  Martin  by  a  letter.  At 
this  time  the  blessed  man  declared  that  the 
thing  asked  was  difficult  to  be  obtained,  for  he 
knew  in  his  spirit  that  that  house  was  then  being 
scourged  by  Divine  appointment.  Yet  he  did 
not  give  up  an  unbroken  course  of  prayer  and 
fasting  for  seven  whole  days  and  as  many  nights, 
so  that  he  at  last  obtained  that  which  he  aimed 
at  in  his  supplications.  Speedily,  Lycontius, 
having  experienced  the  Divine  kindness,  flew 
to  him,  at  once  reporting  the  fact  and  giving 
thanks,  that  his  house  had  been  delivered  from 
all  danger.  He  also  offered  a  hundred  pounds 
of  silver,  which  the  blessed  man  neither  rejected 
nor  accepted  ;  but  before  the  amount  of  money 
touched  the  threshold  of  the  monastery,  he  had, 
without  hesitation,  destined  it  for  the  redemp- 
tion of  captives.  And  when  it  was  suggested  to 
him  by  the  brethren,  that  some  portion  of  it 
should  be  reserved  for  the  expenses  of  the 
monastery,  since  it  was  difficult  for  all  of  them 
to  obtain  necessary  food,  while  many  of  them 
were  sorely  in  need  of  clothing,  he  replied,  '  Let 
the  church  both  feed  and  clothe  us,  as  long  as 
we  do  not  appear  to  have  provided,  in  any  way, 
for  our  own  wants.' 

"  There  occur  to  my  mind  at  this  point  many 
miracles  of  that  illustrious  man,  which  it  is  more 
easy  for  us  to  admire  than  to  narrate.  You  all 
doubtless  recognize  the  truth  of  what  I  say : 
there  are  many  doings  of  his  which  cannot  be 
set  forth  in  words.  For  instance,  there  is  the 
following,  which  I  rather  think  cannot  be  re- 
lated by  us  just  as  it  took  place.  A  certain  one 
of  the  brethren  (you  are  not  ignorant  of  his 
name,  but  his  person  must  be  concealed,  lest 
we  should  cause  shame  to  a  godly  man),  —  a 
certain  one,  I  say,  having  found  abundance  of 
coals  for  his  stove,  drew  a  stool  to  himself,  and 
was  sitting,  with  outspread  legs  and  exposed 
person,  beside  that  fire,  when  Martin  at  once 
perceived  that  an  improper  thing  was  done 
under  the  sacred  roof,  and  cried  out  with  a  loud 
voice,  '  Who,  by  exposing  his  person,  is  dis- 
honoring our  habitation?'  When  our  brother 
heard  this,  and  felt  from  his  own  conscience, 
that  it  was  he  who  was  rebuked,  he  immediately 
ran  to  us  almost  in  a  fainting  condition,  and 
acknowledged  his  shame  ;  which  was  done,  how- 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


53 


ever,  only  through  the  forth-putting  of  the  power 
of  Martin. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  Again,  on  a  certain  day,  after  he  had  sat 
down  on  that  wooden  seat  of  his  (which  you 
all  know),  placed  in  the  small  open  court 
which  surrounded  his  abode,  he  perceived  two 
demons  sitting  on  the  lofty  rock  which  over- 
hangs the  monastery.  He  then  heard  them,  in 
eager  and  gladsome  tones,  utter  the  following 
invitation,  '  Come  hither,  Brictio,  come  hither, 
Brictio.'  I  believe  they  perceived  the  miser- 
able man  approaching  from  a  distance,  being 
conscious  how  great  frenzy  of  spirit  they  had 
excited  within  him.  Nor  is  there  any  delay : 
Brictio  rushes  in  in  absolute  fury ;  and  there, 
full  of  madness,  he  vomits  forth  a  thousand  re- 
proaches against  Martin.  For  he  had  been 
reproved  by  him  on  the  previous  day,  because 
he  who  had  possessed  nothing  before  he  entered 
the  clerical  office,  having,  in  fact,  been  brought 
up  in  the  monastery  by  Martin  himself,  was  now 
keeping  horses  and  purchasing  slaves.  For  at 
that  time,  he  was  accused  by  many  of  not  only 
having  bought  boys  belonging  to  barbarous 
nations,  but  girls  also  of  a  comely  appearance. 
The  miserable  man,  moved  with  bitter  rage  on 
account  of  these  things,  and,  as  I  believe,  chiefly 
instigated  by  the  impulse  received  from  those 
demons,  made  such  an  onset  upon  Martin  as 
scarcely  to  refrain  from  laying  hands  upon  him. 
The  holy  man,  on  his  part,  with  a  placid  coun- 
tenance and  a  tranquil  mind,  endeavored  by 
gentle  words  to  restrain  the  madness  of  the  un- 
happy wretch.  But  the  spirit  of  wickedness  so 
prevailed  within  him,  that  not  even  his  own 
mind,  at  best  a  very  vain  one,  was  under  his 
control.  With  trembling  lips,  and  a  changing 
countenance,  pale  with  rage,  he  rolled  forth  the 
words  of  sin,  asserting  that  he  was  a  holier  man 
than  Martin  who  had  brought  him  up,  inasmuch 
as  from  his  earliest  years  he  had  grown  up  in 
the  monastery  amid  the  sacred  institutions  of 
the  Church,  while  Martin  had  at  first,  as  he  could 
not  deny,  been  tarnished  with  the  life  of  a  sol- 
dier, and  had  now  entirely  sunk  into  dotage  by 
means  of  his  baseless  superstitions,  and  ridiculous 
fancies  about  visions.  After  he  had  uttered 
many  things  like  these,  and  others  of  a  still  more 
bitter  nature,  which  it  is  better  not  to  mention, 
going  out,  at  length,  when  his  rage  was  satisfied, 
he  seemed  to  feel  as  if  he  had  completely  vin- 
dicated his  conduct.  But  with  rapid  steps  he 
rushed  back  by  the  way  he  had  gone  out,  the 
demons  having,  I  believe,  been,  in  the  mean- 
time, driven  from  his  heart  by  the  prayers  of 
Martin,  and  he  was  now  brought  back  to  re- 


pentance. Speedily,  then,  he  returns,  and  throws 
himself  at  the  feet  of  Martin,  begging  for  pardon 
and  confessing  his  error,  while,  at  length  restored 
to  a  better  mind,  he  acknowledges  that  he  had 
been  under  the  influence  of  a  demon.  It  was 
no  difficult  business  for  Martin  to  forgive  the 
suppliant.  And  then  the  holy  man  explained 
both  to  him  and  to  us  all,  how  he  had  seen  him 
driven  on  by  demons,  and  declared  that  he  was 
not  moved  by  the  reproaches  which  had  been 
heaped  upon  him ;  for  they  had,  in  fact,  rather 
injured  the  man  who  uttered  them.  And  sub- 
sequently, when  this  same  Brictio  was  often 
accused  before  him  of  many  and  great  crimes, 
Martin  could  not  be  induced  to  remove  him 
from  the  presbyterate,  lest  he  should  be  sus- 
pected of  revenging  the  injury  done  to  himself, 
while  he  often  repeated  this  saying  :  '  If  Christ 
bore  with  Judas,  why  should  not  I  bear  with 
Brictio?'" 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Upon  this,  Postumianus  exclaims,  "  Let  that 
well-known  man  in  our  immediate  neighborhood, 
listen  to  that  example,  who,  when  he  is  wise, 
takes  no  notice  either  of  things  present  or  future, 
but  if  he  has  been  offended,  falls  into  utter  fury, 
having  no  control  over  himself.  He  then  rages 
against  the  clerics,  and  makes  bitter  attacks 
upon  the  laity,  while  he  stirs  up  the  whole  world 
for  his  own  revenge.  He  will  continue  in  this 
state  of  contention  for  three  years  without  inter- 
mission, and  refuse  to  be  mollified  either  by 
time  or  reason.  The  condition  of  the  man  is  to 
be  lamented  and  pitied,  even  if  this  were  the 
only  incurable  evil  by  which  he  is  afflicted.  But 
you  ought,  my  Gallic  friend,  to  have  frequently 
recalled  to  his  mind  such  examples  of  patience 
and  tranquillity,  that  he  might  know  both  how  to 
be  angry  and  how  to  forgive.  And  if  he  hap- 
pens to  hear  of  this  speech  of  mine  which  has 
been  briefly  interpolated  into  our  discourse,  and 
directed  against  himself,  let  him  know  that  I 
spoke,  not  more  with  the  lips  of  an  enemy  than 
the  mind  of  a  friend  ;  because  I  should  wish,  if 
the  thing  were  possible,  that  he  should  be  spoken 
of  rather  as  being  like  the  bishop  Martin,  than 
the  tyrant  Phalaris.  But  let  us  pass  away  from 
him,  since  the  mention  of  him  is  far  from  pleas- 
ant, and  let  us  return,  O  Gaul,  to  our  friend 
Martin." 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

Then  said  I,  since  I  perceived  by  the  setting 
sun  that  evening  was  at  hand  :  "  The  day  is 
gone,  Postumianus ;  we  must  rise  up  ;  and  at 
the  same  time  some  refreshment  is  due  to  these 


54 


DIALOGUES    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


so  zealous  listeners.  And  as  to  Martin,  you 
ought  not  to  expect  that  there  is  any  limit  to 
one  talking  about  him  :  he  extends  too  far  to  be 
comprised  fully  in  any  conversation.  In  the 
meantime,  you  will  convey  to  the  East  the 
things  you  have  now  heard  about  that  famous 
man ;  and  as  you  retrace  your  steps  to  your 
former  haunts,  and  pass  along  by  various  coasts, 
places,  harbors,  islands,  and  seas,  see  that  you 
spread  among  the  peoples  the  name  and  glory  of 
Martin.  Especially  remember  that  you  do  not 
omit  Campania  ;  and  although  your  route  will 
take  you  far  off  the  beaten  track,  still  any  ex- 
penditure from  delay  will  not  be  to  you  of  so 
much  importance  as  to  keep  you  from  visiting 
in  that  quarter  Paulinus,  a  man  renowned  and 
praised  throughout  the  whole  world.  I  beg  you 
first  to  unroll  to  him  the  volume  of  discourse 
which  we  either  completed  yesterday,  or  have 
said  to-day.  You  will  relate  all  to  him ;  you 
will  repeat  all  to  him  ;  that  in  due  time,  by 
his  means,  Rome  may  learn  the  sacred  merits 
of  this  man,  just  as  he  spread  that  first  little 
book  of  ours  not  only  through  Italy,  but  even 
through  the  whole  of  Illyria.  He,  not  jealous 
of  the  glories  of  Martin,  and  being  a  most  pious 
admirer  of  his  saintly  excellences  in  Christ,  will 
not  refuse  to  compare  our  leading  man  with  his 
own  friend  Felix.  Next,  if  you  happen  to  cross 
over  to  Africa,  you  will  relate  what  you  have 
heard  to  Carthage ;  and,  although,  as  you 
yourself  have  said,  it  already  knows  the  man, 
yet  now  pre-eminently  it  will  learn  more  respect- 
ing him,  that  it  may  not  admire  its  own  martyr 
Cyprian  alone,  although  consecrated  by  his  sa- 
cred blood.  And  then,  if  carried  down  a  little 
to  the  left,  you  enter  the  gulf  of  Achaia,  let 
Corinth  know,  and  let  Athens  know,  that  Plato 
in  the  academy  was  not  wiser,  and  that  Socrates 
in  the  prison  was  not  braver,  than  Martin.  You 
will  say  to  them  that  Greece  was  indeed  happy 
which  was  thought  worthy  to  listen  to  an  apostle 
pleading,  but  that  Christ  has  by  no  means  for- 
saken GauL  since  he  has  granted  it  to  possess 


such  a  man  as  Martin.  But  when  you  have 
come  as  far  as  Egypt,  although  it  is  justly  proud 
of  the  numbers  and  virtues  of  its  own  saints, 
yet  let  it  not  disdain  to  hear  how  Europe  will 
not  yield  to  it,  or  to  all  Asia,  in  having  only 
Martin. 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

"  But  when  you  have  again  set  sail  from  that 
place  with  the  view  of  making  for  Jerusalem,  I 
enjoin  upon  you  a  duty  connected  with  our 
grief,  that,  if  you  ever  come  to  the  shore  of  re- 
nowned Ptolemais,  you  enquire  most  carefully 
where  Pomponius,  that  friend  of  ours,  is  buried, 
and  that  you  do  not  refuse  to  visit  his  remains 
on  that  foreign  soil.  There  shed  many  tears,  as 
much  from  the  working  of  your  own  feelings,  as 
from  our  tender  affection ;  and  although  it  is 
but  a  worthless  gift,  scatter  the  ground  there 
with  purple  flowers  and  sweet-smelling  grass. 
And  you  will  say  to  him,  but  not  roughly,  and 
not  harshly,  —  with  the  address  of  one  who  sym- 
pathizes, and  not  with  the  tone  of  one  who  re- 
proaches, —  that  if  he  had  only  been  willing  to 
listen  to  you  at  one  time,  or  to  me  constantly, 
and  if  he  had  invited  Martin  rather  than  that 
man  whom  I  am  unwilling  to  name,  he  would 
never  have  been  so  cruelly  separated  from  me, 
or  covered  by  a  heap  of  unknown  dust,  having 
suffered  death  in  the  midst  of  the  sea  with  the 
lot  of  a  ship-wrecked  pirate,  and  with  difficulty 
securing  burial  on  a  far-distant  shore.  Let  those 
behold  this  as  their  own  work,  who,  in  seeking 
to  revenge  him,  have  wished  to  injure  me,  let 
them  behold  their  own  glory,  and  being  avenged, 
let  them  henceforth  cease  to  make  any  attacks 
upon  me." 

Having  uttered  these  sad  words  in  a  very 
mournful  voice,  and  while  the  tears  of  all  the 
others  were  drawn  forth  by  our  laments,  we  at 
length  departed,  certainly  with  a  profound  ad- 
miration for  Martin,  but  with  no  less  sorrow  from 
our  own  lamentations. 


THE    DOUBTFUL    LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS 

SEVERUS. 


aXKc 


LETTER    I. 

A  LETTER  OF  THE  HOLY  PRESBYTER  SEVERUS  TO 
HIS  SISTER  CLAUDIA  CONCERNING  THE  LAST 
JUDGMENT. 

CHAPTER   I. 

On  reading  your  letters,  my  feelings  were, 
in  many  ways,  deeply  moved,  and  I  could  not 
refrain  from  tears.  For  I  both  wept  for  joy 
because  I  could  perceive  from  the  very  language 
of  your  letters,  that  you  were  living  according 
to  the  precepts  of  the  Lord  God,  and  out  of 
my  exceeding  desire  after  you,  I  could  not  help 
lamenting  that,  without  any  fault  on  my  part,  I 
was  parted  from  you ;  and  I  would  have  felt 
this  still  more  strongly  had  you  not  sent  me  a 
letter.  Should  I  not,  then,  enjoy  the  company 
of  such  a  sister?  But  I  call  your  salvation  to 
witness,  that  I  have  very  often  wished  to  come 
to  you,  but  have  up  till  now  been  prevented, 
through  the  opposition  of  him  x  who  is  accus- 
tomed to  hinder  us.  For,  in  my  eager  desire, 
I  was  both  urgent  to  satisfy  my  wishes  by  seeing 
you ;  and  we  seemed,  if  we  should  meet,  likely 
to  accomplish  more  effectually  the  work  of  the 
Lord,  since  by  comforting  one  another  we  should 
live  with  the  heavy  load  of  this  world  trodden 
under  our  feet.  But  I  do  not  now  fix  the  day 
or  time  of  visiting  you,  because,  as  often  as  I 
have  done  so,  I  have  not  been  able  to  fulfil  my 
purpose.  I  shall  wait  on  the  will  of  the  Lord, 
and  hope  that,  by  my  supplications  and  your 
prayers,  he  may  bring  it  about  that  we  reap 
some  advantage  from  our  perseverance.2 


CHAPTER   II. 

But  because  you  have  desired  from  me  in  all 
my  letters  which  I  had  sent  to  you  precepts  to 
nourish  your  life  and  faith,  it  has  come  to  pass 


_ l.  It  is  obvious  that,  in  this  whole  passage,  Sulpitius  has  in  his 
mind  the  language  of  St.  Paul,  Rom.  i.  9-12. 

3  Halm  reads  pmsentia,  instead  of  the   old   reading  perseve- 
rantia,  but  apparently  without  good  grounds. 


that,  through  the  frequency  of  my  writings  to 
you,  I  have  now  exhausted  language  of  that 
kind  ;  and  I  can  really  write  nothing  new  to  you, 
so  as  to  avoid  what  I  have  written  before.  And 
in  truth,  through  the  goodness  of  God,  you  do 
not  now  need  to  be  exhorted,  inasmuch  as,  per- 
fecting your  faith  at  the  very  beginning  of  your 
saintly  life,  you  display  a  devoted  love  in  Christ. 
One  thing,  however,  I  do  press  upon  you,  that 
you  do  not  go  back  on  things  you  have  already 
passed  away  from,  that  you  do  not  long  again 
for  things  you  have  already  scorned,  and  that, 
having  put  your  hand  to  the  plow,  you  do  not 
look  back1  again,  retracing  your  steps;  for,  un- 
doubtedly, by  falling  into  this  fault,  your  furrow 
will  lose  its  straightness,  and  the  cultivator  will 
not  receive  his  own  proper  reward.  Moreover, 
he  does  not  secure  even  a  measure  of  the 
reward,  if  he  has,  in  a  measure,  failed.  For,  as 
we  must  flee  from  sin  to  righteousness,  so  he 
who  has  entered  on  the  practice  of  righteousness 
must  beware  lest  he  lay  himself  open  to  sin. 
For  it  is  written  that  "  his  righteousness  shall 
not  profit  the  righteous  on  the  day  on  which  he 
has  gone  astray."  2  For  this,  then,  we  must  take 
our  stand,  for  this  we  must  labor,  that  we,  who 
have  escaped  from  sins,  do  not  lose  the  pre- 
pared rewards.  For  the  enemy  stands  ready 
against  us,  that  he  may  at  once  strike  the  man 
who  has  been  stripped  of  the  shield  of  faith. 
Our  shield,  therefore,  is  not  to  be  cast  aside,  lest 
our  side  be  exposed  to  attack ;  and  our  sword 
is  not  to  be  put  away,  lest  the  enemy  then  begin 
to  give  up  all  fear :  moreover,  we  know  that  if 
he  sees  a  man  fully  armed,  he  will  retreat.  Nor 
are  we  ignorant  that  it  is  a  hard  and  difficult 
thing  daily  to  fight  against  the  flesh  and  the 
world.  But  if  you  reflect  upon  eternity,  and  if 
you  consider  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  which  un- 
doubtedly the  Lord  will  condescend  to  bestow 
upon  us  although  we  are  sinners,  what  suffering, 
I  ask,  is  sufficiently  great,  by  which  we  may 
merit  such  things?  And  besides,  our  struggle 
in  this  world  is  but  for  a  short  time  ;  for  al- 
though death  do  not  speedily  overtake  us,  old 

1  Luke  ix.  62. 

2  Ezek.  xviii.  24. 


56 


LETTERS  OF  SULPITIUS  SEVERUS  (Doubtful). 


age  will  come.  The  years  flow  on,  and  time 
glides  by ;  while,  as  I  hope,  the  Lord  Jesus  will 
speedily  call  us  to  himself,  as  being  dear  to  his 
heart. 

CHAPTER   III. 

O  how  happy  shall  be  that  departure  of  ours, 
when  Christ  shall  receive  us  into  his  own  abode 
after  we  have  been  purged x  from  the  stains  of 
sin  through  the  experience2  of  a  better  life! 
Martyrs  and  prophets  will  meet  with  us,  apostles 
will  join  themselves  td  us,  angels  will  be  glad, 
archangels  will  rejoice,  and  Satan,  being  con- 
quered, will  look  pale,  though  still  retaining  his 
cruel  countenance,  inasmuch  as  he  will  lose  all3 
advantage  from  our  sins  which  he  had  secured 
for  himself  in  us.  He  will  see  glory  granted  us 
through  mercy,  and  merits  honored  by  means  of 
glory.  We  shall  triumph  over  our  conquered 
foe.  Where  shall  now  the  wise  men  of  the  world 
appear?  Where  shall  the  covetous  man,  where 
shall  the  adulterer,  where  shall  the  irreligious, 
where  shall  the  drunkard,  where  shall  the  evil- 
speaker  be  recognized?  What  shall  these 
wretched  beings  say  in  their  own  defense  ?  "  We 
did  not  know  thee,  Lord ;  we  did  not  see  that 
thou  wast  in  the  world  :  thou  didst  not  send  the 
prophets  :  thou  didst  not  give  the  law  to  the 
world  :  we  did  not  see  the  patriarchs  :  we  did 
not  read  the  lives  of  the  saints.  Thy  Christ 
never  was  upon  the  earth  :  Peter  was  silent : 
Paul  refused  to  preach  :  no  Evangelist  taught. 
There  were  no  martyrs  whose  example  we  should 
follow  :  no  one  predicted  thy  future  judgment : 
no  one  commanded  us  to  clothe  the  poor :  no 
one  enjoined  us  to  restrain  lust :  no  one  per- 
suaded us  to  fight  against  covetousness  :  we  fell 
through  ignorance,  not  knowing  what  we  did." 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Against  these,  from  among  the  company  of 
the  saints,  righteous  Noah  shall  first  proclaim, 
"  I,  Lord,  predicted  that  a  deluge  was  about  to 
come  on  account  of  the  sins  of  men,  and  after 
the  deluge  I  set  an  example  to  the  good  in  my 
own  person  ;  since  I  did  not  perish  with  the 
wicked  who  perished,  that  they  might  know  both 
what  was  the  salvation  of  the  innocent,  and  what 
the  punishment  of  sinners."  After  him,  faithful 
Abraham  will    say   in    opposition   to   them,  "  I, 


1  Clericus  here  remarks  that  "  these  words  clearly  teach  us  that 
Severus  knew  of  no  other  purgation  than  that  by  which  we  are 
cleansed  in  this  life  from  sin  by  a  change  of  character,  and  which 
change  if  we  steadily  maintain,  then,  when  life  is  ended,  we  are 
received  into  the  abode  of  Christ,  without  any  dread  of  the  fire  of 
purgatory." 

2  "  conversatione." 

3  Having  led  us  into  sin  that  we  might  be  condemned  along  with 
himself.     The  meaning,  however,  is  obscure. 


Lord,  about  the  mid-time '  of  the  age  of  the 
world,  laid  the  foundation  of  the  faith  by  which 
the  human  race  should  believe  in  thee  ;  I  was 
chosen  as  the  father  of  the  nations,  that  they 
might  follow  my  example ;  I  did  not  hesitate, 
Lord,  to  offer  Isaac,  while  yet  a  youth,  as  a  sac- 
rifice to  thee,  that  they  might  understand  that 
there  is  nothing  which  ought  not  to  be  presented 
to  the  Lord,  when  they  perceived  that  I  did  not 
spare  even  my  only  son  :  I  left,  Lord,  my  coun- 
try, and  my  family,  at  thy  command,  that  they 
also  might  have  an  example  teaching  them  to 
leave  the  wickedness  of  the  world  and  the  age  : 
I,  Lord,  was  the  first  to  recognize  thee,  though 
under  a  corporeal2  form,  nor  did  I  hesitate  to 
believe  who  it  was  that  I  beheld,  although  thou 
didst  appear  to  me  in  a  different  form  from 
thine  own,  that  these  might  learn  to  judge,  not  ac- 
cording to  the  flesh,  but  according  to  the  spirit." 
Him  the  blessed  Moses  will  support  in  his  plead- 
ings, saying  :  "  I  Lord,  delivered  the  law  to  all 
these,  at  thy  command,  that  those  whom  a  free  3 
faith  did  not  influence,  the  spoken  law  at  least 
might  restrain  :  I  said,  '  Thou  shalt  not 4  com- 
mit adultery,'  in  order  that  I  might  prevent  the 
licentiousness  of  fornication  :  I  said, '  Thou  shalt 
love5  thy  neighbor,'  that  affection  might  abound  ; 
I  said,  '  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  alone,' 7 
in  order  that  these  might  not  sacrifice  to  idols, 
or  allow  temples  to  exist ;  I  commanded  that 
false  witness  should  not  be  spoken,  that  I  might 
shut  the  lips  of  these  people  against  all  falsehood. 
I  set  forth  the  things  which  had  been  done  and 
said  from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  through 
the  working  within  me  of  the  spirit  of  thy 
power,  that  a  knowledge  of  things  past  might 
convey  to  these  people  instruction  about  things 
to  come.  I  predicted,  O  Lord  Jesus,  thy  com- 
ing, that  it  might  not  be  an  unexpected  thing  to 
these  people,  when  they  were  called  to  acknowl- 
edge him  whom  I  had  before  announced  as 
about  to  come." 


CHAPTER   V. 

After  him,  there  will  stand  up  David  worthy 
of  his  descendant  the  Lord,  and  declare  :  "  I, 
Lord,  proclaimed  thee  by  every  means  ;  I  set 
forth  that  only  thy  name  was  to  be  worshiped ; 
I  said,  '  Blessed  is  the  man '  who  fears  the 
Lord';  I  said  too,  'The  saints  shall2  be  joyful 
in    glory '  ;    and    I    said,    '  The    desire    of    the 


1  Abraham  lived  (in  round  numbers)  about  2000  years  B.C.,  and 
assuming  the  beginning  of  the  world  to  have  been  about  4000  years 
B.C.,  he  may  thus  be  said  to  have  lived  about  "  the  mid-time."  The 
note  of  Clericus  which  refers  the  words  to  the  end  of  the  world 
seems  quite  mistaken. 

2  The  reference  is  to  Gen.  xviii. 

3  A  faith  having  no  regard  to  either  rewards  or  punishments. 

4  Ex.  xx.  14.     ""  "  Ex.  xx.  3,  &c. 

5  Lev.  xix.  18.  J  Ps.  cxi.  1. 

c  Deut.  vi.  13.  2  Ps.  cxlix.  5. 


LETTERS   OF   SULPITIUS   SEVERUS   (Doubtful). 


57 


wicked3  shall  perish,'  that  these  people  might 
acknowledge  thee  and  cease  to  sin.  I,  when 
I  had  become  possessed  of  royal  power,  clothed 
in  sackcloth,  with  dust  spread  beneath  me,  and 
with  the  emblems  of  my  greatness  laid  aside,  lay 
down  in  my  clothes,  that  an  example  might  be 
given  to  these  people  of  gentleness  and  humility. 
I  spared  my  enemies  who  desired  to  slay  me, 
that  these  people  might  approve  of  my  merciful- 
ness, as  worthy  of  being  imitated."  After  him, 
Isaiah,  who  was  worthy  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
will  not  be  silent ;  but  will  say :  "  I,  Lord, 
whilst  thou  wast  speaking  through  my  mouth, 
gave  this  warning,  — '  Woe  to  those 4  who  join 
house  to  house,'  that  I  might  set  a  limit  to 
covetousness.  I  bore  witness  that  thine  anger 
came  upon  the  wicked,  that  at  any  rate  fear  of 
punishment,  if  not  hope  of  reward,  might  keep 
back  these  people  from  their  evil  deeds." 


CHAPTER   VI. 

After  these,  and  several  others  who  have 
discharged  for  us  the  duties  of  instruction,  the 
Son  of  God  himself  will  speak  thus  :  "  I,  cer- 
tainly, exalted  on  a  lofty  seat,  holding  heaven 
in  my  hand,  and  the  earth  in  my  fist,  extended 
within  and  without,  in  the  inside  of  all  things 
which  are  produced,  and  on  the  outside  of  all1 
things  that  move,  inconceivable,  infinite  in  the 
power 2  of  nature,  invisible  to  sight,  inaccessible 
to  touch,  in  order  that  I  might  exist  as  the  least 
of  you  (for  the  purpose  of  subduing  the  hard- 
ness of  your  heart  and  for  softening  your  faith- 
lessness by  sound  doctrines),  condescended  to 
be  born  in  flesh,  and,  having  laid  aside  the  glory 
of  God,  I  assumed  the  form  of  a  servant,  so  that, 
sharing  with  you  in  bodily  infirmity,  I  might  in 
turn  bring  you  to  a  participation  in  my  glory, 
through  obedience  to  the  precept  of  salvation. 
I  restored  health  to  the  sick  and  infirm,  hearing 
to  the  deaf,  sight  to  the  blind,  the  power  of 
speech  to  the  dumb,  and  the  use  of  their  feet 
to  the  lame ;  that  I  might  influence  you,  by 
heavenly  signs,  all  the  more  easily  to  believe  in 
me,  and  in  those  things  which  I  had  announced, 
I  promised  you  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;  I  also, 
in  order  that  you  might  have  an  example  of 
escape  from  punishment,  placed  in  Paradise  the 
robber  who  acknowledged  me  almost  at  the 
moment  of  his  death,  that  ye  might  follow  even 
the  faith  of  him  who  had  been  thought  worthy 
of  having  his  sins  forgiven  him.  And  that  by 
my  example  in  your  behalf,  ye  yourselves  also 
might  be  able  to  suffer ;  I  suffered  for  you,  that 


3  Ps.  cxii.  10.  *  Isa.  v.  8. 

1  The  divine  omnipresence  is  here  denoted. 
.     2  .Or»  according  to  another  punctuation,  "  inconceivable  in  nature, 
infinite  in  power." 


no  man  might  hesitate  to  suffer  for  himself  what 
God3  had  endured  for  man.  I  showed  myself 
after  my  resurrection,  in  order  that  your  faith 
might  not  be  overthrown.  I  admonished  the 
Jews  in  the  person  of  Peter ;  I  preached  to  the 
Gentiles  in  the  person  of  Paul ;  and  I  do 
not  regret  doing  so,  for  good  results  followed. 
The  good  have  understood  my  work ;  the  faith- 
ful have  perfected  it ;  the  righteous  have  com- 
pleted it ;  the  merciful  have  consummated  it : 
there  have  been  a  large  number  of  martyrs,  and 
a  large  number  of  saints.  Those  to  whom  I 
thus  refer  were  undoubtedly  in  the  same  body 
and  in  the  same  world  as  you.  Why,  then,  do 
I  find  no  good  work  in  you,  ye  descendants  of 
vipers  ?  Ye  have  shown  no  repentance  for  your 
wicked  deeds,  even  at  the  very  end  of  your 
earthly  course.  And  what  does  it  profit  that  ye 
honor  me  with  your  lips,  when  you  deny  me  by 
your  deeds  and  works?  Where  are  now  your 
riches,  where  your  honors,  where  your  powers, 
and  where  your  pleasures  ?  I  pronounce  no 
new  sentence  over  you  :  you  simply  incur  the 
judgment  which  I  formerly  predicted." 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Then  will  the  Evangelist  repeat  this  to  the 
wretched  beings,  "  Go  ye l  into  outer  dark- 
ness, where  shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  of 
teeth."  O  ye  miserable  men,  whom  these  words 
do  not  now  impress  !  They  shall  then  see  their 
own  punishment,  and  the  glory  of  others.  Let 
them  use  this  present  world,  provided  they  do 
not  enjoy  that  eternity  which  is  prepared  for  the 
saints.  Let  them  abound  in  riches  :  let  them 
rest  on  gold  ;  provided  that  there  they  be  found 
needy  and  destitute.  Let  them  be  wealthy  in 
this  world,  provided  they  be  poor  in  eternity, 
for  it  is  written  regarding  them,  "  The  rich  were 
in2  want,  and  suffered  hunger."  But  the  Scrip- 
ture has  added  what  follows  respecting  the  good, 
—  "  but  those  who  seek  the  Lord  shall  not  want 
any  good  thing." 

Therefore,  my  sister,  although  those  people 
mock  at  us,  and  although  they  call  us  foolish 
and  unhappy,  let  us  all  the  more  joyfully  exult 
in  such  reproaches,  by  which  glory  is  heaped  up 
for  us,  and  punishment  for  them.  And  do  not 
let  us  laugh  at  their  folly,  but  rather  grieve  over 
their  unhappiness ;  because  there  is  among 
them  a  large  number  of  our  own  people,  whom 
if  we  win  over,  our  glory  shall  be  increased. 
But  however  they  may   conduct   themselves,  let 


3  Clericus  thinks  this  expression  unscriptural,  and  fitted  to  sup- 
port heresy.  But  it  may  be  justified  by  such  a  passage  as  Acts  xx. 
28,  if  0eov  be  accepted  as  the  correct  reading,  which  is  now  generally 
agreed  upon. 

1  St.  Matt.  xxii.  13. 

2  Ps.  xxxiv.  10:  the  above  rendering  entirely  departs  from  the 
Hebrew  text. 


58 


LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS    (Doubtful). 


them  be  to  us  as  Gentiles  and  publicans ;  but 
let  us  keep  ourselves  safe  and  sound.  If  they 
rejoice  now  over  us  lamenting,  it  will  be  our 
turn  afterwards  to  rejoice  over  their  suffering. 
Farewell,  dearest  sister,  and  tenderly  beloved  in 
Christ. 


LETTER    II. 

A    LETTER    OF     SULPITIUS     SEVERUS     TO    HIS    SISTER 
CLAUDIA    CONCERNING    VIRGINITY. 

CHAPTER   I. 

How  great  blessedness,  among  heavenly  gifts, 
belongs  to  holy  virginity,  besides  the  testimonies 
of  the  Scriptures,  we  learn  also  from  the  prac- 
tice of  the  Church,  by  which  we  are  taught  that 
a  peculiar  merit  belongs  to  those  who  have  de- 
voted themselves  to  it  by  special  consecration. 
For  while  the  whole  multitude  of  those  that 
believe  receive  equal  gifts  of  grace,  and  all  re- 
joice in  the  same  blessings  of  the  sacraments, 
those  who  are  virgins  possess  something  above 
the  rest,  since,  out  of  the  holy  and  unstained 
company  of  the  Church,  they  are  chosen  by  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  are  presented  by  the  bishop1 
at  the  altar  of  God,  as  if  being  more  holy  and 
pure  sacrifices,  on  account  of  the  merits  of  their 
voluntary  dedication.  This  is  truly  a  sacrifice 
worthy  of  God,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  offering  of 
so  precious  a  being,  and  none  will  please  him 
more  than  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  image.  For 
I  think  that  the  i\postle  especially  referred  to  a 
sacrifice  of  this  kind,  when  he  said,  "  Now,  I 
beseech  you,  brethren,  by  the  mercy  of  God, 
that  you  present  your  bodies  a  living  sacrifice, 
holy  and  acceptable 2  to  God."  Virginity,  there- 
fore, possesses  both  that  which  others  have,  and 
that  which  others  have  not ;  while  it  obtains 
both  common  and  special  grace,  and  rejoices 
(so  to  speak)  in  its  own  peculiar  privilege  of 
consecration.  For  ecclesiastical  authority  per- 
mits us  to  style  virgins  also  the  brides  of  Christ  ; 
while,  after  the  manner  of  brides,  it  veils  those 
whom  it  consecrates  to  the  Lord,  openly  exhib- 
iting those  as  very  especially  about  to  possess 
spiritual  marriage  who  have  fled  away  from  car- 
nal fellowship.  And  those  are  worthily  united, 
after  a  spiritual  manner,  to  God,  in  accordance 
with  the  analogy  of  marriage,  who,  from  love  to 
him,  have  set  at  nought  human  alliances.  In 
their  case,  that  saying  of  the  apostle  finds  its 
fullest  possible  fulfillment,  "  He  who  is  joined 
to  the  Lord,3  is  one  spirit." 


1  "  per  summum  sacerdotem." 

2  Rom.  xii.  i. 

3  i  Cor.  vi.  17. 


CHAPTER   II. 

For  it  is  a  great  and  a  divine  thing,  almost 
beyond  a  corporeal  nature,  to  lay  aside  1  luxury, 
and  to  extinguish,  by  strength  of  mind,  the 
flame  of  concupiscence,  kindled  by  the  torch  of 
youth  ;  to  put  down  by  spiritual  effort  the  force 
of  natural  delight ;  to  live  in  opposition  to  the 
practice  of  the  human  race ;  to  despise  the 
comforts  of  wedlock ;  to  disdain  the  sweet  en- 
joyments derived  from  children ;  and  to  regard 
as  nothing,  in  the  hope  of  future  blessedness, 
everything  that  is  reckoned  among  the  advan- 
tages of  this  present  -life.  This  is,  as  I  have 
said,  a  great  and  admirable  virtue,  and  is  not 
undeservedly  destined  to  a  vast  reward,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  greatness  of  its  labor.  The 
Scripture  says,  "  I  will  give  to  the  eunuchs,  saith 
the  Lord,  a  place  in  my  house  and  within  my 
walls,  a  place  counted  better  than2  sons  and 
daughters  ;  I  will  give  them  an  eternal  name, 
and  it  shall  not3  fail."  The  Lord  again  speaks 
concerning  such  enunchs  in  the  Gospel,  saying, 
"  For  there  are  eunuchs  who  have  made  them- 
selves eunuchs  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven's 
sake."4  Great,  indeed,  is  the  struggle  con- 
nected with  chastity,  but  greater  is  the  reward ; 
the  restraint  is  temporal,  but  the  reward  will 
be  eternal.  For  the  blessed  Apostle  John  also 
speaks  concerning  these,  saying  that  "  they  fol- 
low the  Lamb  whithersoever  he  goeth."  5  This, 
I  think,  is  to  be  understood  to  the  following 
effect,  that  there  will  be  no  place  in  the  court  of 
heaven  closed  against  them,  but  that  all  the 
habitations  of  the  divine  mansions  will  be  thrown 
open  before  them. 


CHAPTER   III. 

But  that  the  merit  of  virginity  may  shine 
forth  more  clearly,  and  that  there  may  be  a 
better  understanding  as  to  how  worthy  it  is  of 
God,  let  this  be  considered,  that  the  Lord  God, 
our  Saviour,  when,  for  the  salvation  of  the  human 
race,  he  condescended  to  assume  mankind,  chose 
no  other  than  a  virgin's  womb,  that  he  might 
show  how  virtue  of  this  kind  especially  pleased 
him  ;  and  that  he  might  point  out  the  blessed- 
ness of  chastity  to  both  sexes,  he  had  a  virgin 
mother,  while  he  himself  was  ever  to  remain  in 
a  like  condition.  He  thus  furnished  in  his  own 
person  to  men,  and  in  the  person  of  his  mother 
to  women,  an  example  of  virginity,  by  which  it 
might  be  proved,  with  respect  to  both  sexes, 
that  the  blessed   state  of  purity  possessed  the 


1  "  sopire  luxuriam,"  lit.  to  put  to  sleep. 

2  "  a  filiis  et  filiabus":  a  mistaken  rendering  of  the  Hebrew 
text. 

3  Isa.  lvi.  5.  *  Matt.  xix.  12.  °  Rev.  xiv.  4. 


LETTERS   OF   SULPITIUS   SEVERUS   (Doubtful). 


mllness  of  divinity,1  for  whatever  dwelt  in  the  Son 
was  also  wholly  in  the  mother.  But  why  should 
I  take  pains  to  make  known  the  excellent  and 
surpassing  merit  of  chastity,  and  to  set  forth  the 
glorious  good  of  virginity,  when  I  am  not  igno- 
rant that  many  have  discoursed  on  this  subject, 
and  have  proved  its  blessedness  by  most  con- 
clusive reasons,  and  since  it  can  never  be  a  mat- 
ter of  doubt  to  any  reflecting  mind,  that  a  thing 
has  all  the  more  merit,  the  more  difficult  it  is  of 
accomplishment?  For  if  any  one  judges  chas- 
tity to  be  of  no  moment  or  only  of  small  con- 
sequence, it  is  certain  that  he  is  either  ignorant 
of  the  matter,  or  is  not  willing  to  incur  the 
trouble  it  implies.  Hence  it  comes  to  pass 
that  those  always  derogate  from  the  importance 
of  chastity,  who  either  do  not  possess  it,  or  who 
are  unwillingly  compelled  to  maintain  it. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Now,  therefore,  since  we  have  set  forth,  al- 
though in  few  words,  both  the  difficulty  and  the 
merit  of  purity,  great  care  must  be  taken  lest  a 
matter  which  in  itself  implies  great  virtue,  and 
is  also  destined  to  a  vast  reward,  should  fail  to 
produce  its  proper  fruits.  For  the  more  pre- 
cious every  sort  of  thing  is,  the  more  it  is 
guarded  with  anxious  solicitude.  And  since 
there  are  many  things  which  fail  to  secure  their 
proper  excellence,  unless  they  are  assisted  by 
the  aid  of  other  things,  as  is,  for  instance,  the 
case  with  honey,  which,  unless  it  is  preserved  by 
the  protection  of  wax,  and  by  the  cells  of  the 
honeycombs,  and  is  indeed,  to  state  the  matter 
more  truly,  sustained  by  these,  loses  its  delicious- 
ness  and  cannot  exist  apart  by  itself;  and 
again  as  it  is  with  wine,  which,  unless  it  be  kept 
in  vessels  of  a  pleasant  odor,  and  with  the  pitch 
frequently  renewed,  loses  the  power  of  its 
natural  sweetness ;  so,  great  care  must  be  taken 
lest  perchance  some  things  may  be  necessary 
also  to  virginity,  without  which  it  can  by  no 
means  produce  its  proper  fruits,  and  thus  a 
matter  of  so  great  difficulty  may  be  of  no  advan- 
tage (while  all  the  time  it  is  believed  to  be  of 
advantage),  because  it  is  possessed  without  the 
other  necessary  adjuncts.  For  unless  I  am 
mistaken,  chastity  is  preserved  in  its  entirety,  for 
the  sake  of  the  reward  to  be  obtained  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  which  it  is  perfectly  certain 
no  one  can  obtain  who  does  *  not  deserve  eternal 
life.  But  that  eternal  life  cannot  be  merited 
except  by  the  keeping  of  all  the  divine  com- 
mandments, the  Scripture  testifies,  saying,  "  If 
thou  wilt  enter  into  life,  keep   the  command- 

1  The  text  is  here  most  uncertain;  that  adopted  by  Halm  seems 
unintelligible. 

1  "  quod  sine  aeternse  vitae  merito  neminem  consequi  posse  satis 
certum  est." 


ments."2  Therefore  no  one  has  that  life,  except 
the  man  who  has  kept  all  the  precepts  of  the 
law,  and  he  who  has  not  such  life  cannot  be  a 
possessor  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  in  which  it 
is  not  the  dead,  but  the  living  who  shall  reign. 
Therefore  virginity,  which  hopes  for  the  glory  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  will  profit  nothing  by 
itself,  unless  it  also  possess  that  to  which  eternal 
life  is  promised,  by  means  of  which  the  reward 
of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  possessed.  Above 
all  things,  therefore,  the  commandments  which 
have  been  enjoined  upon  us  must  be  kept  by 
those  who  preserve  chastity  in  its  entireness,  and 
who  are  hoping  for  its  reward  from  the  justice  of 
God,  lest  otherwise  the  pains  taken  to  maintain 
a  glorious  chastity  and  continence  come  to 
nothing.  No  one  acquainted  with  the  law  does 
not  know  that  virginity  is  above  s  the  command- 
ment or  precept,  as  the  Apostle  says,  "  Now, 
as  to  virgins,  I  have  no  precept  of  the  Lord,  but 
I  give  my  advice."  4  When,  therefore,  he  simply 
gives  advice  about  maintaining  virginity,  and 
lays  down  no  precept,  he  acknowledges  that  it 
is  above  the  commandment.  Those,  therefore, 
who  preserve  virginity,  do  more  than  the  com- 
mandment requires.  But  it  will  then  oidy  profit 
you  to  have  done  more  than  was  commanded,  if 
you  also  do  that  which  is  commanded.  For 
how  can  you  boast  that  you  have  done  more,  if, 
in  respect  to  some  point,  you  do  less  ?  Desiring 
to  fulfill  the  Divine  counsel,  see  that,  above  all 
things,  you  keep  the  commandment :  wishing  to 
attain  to  the  reward  of  virginity,  see  that  you 
keep  fast  hold  of  what  is  necessary  to  merit  life, 
that  your  chastity  may  be  such  as  can  receive 
a  recompense.  For  as  the  observance  of  the 
commandments  ensures  life,  so,  on  the  other 
hand,  does  the  violation  give  rise  to  death. 
And  he  who  through  disobedience  has  been 
doomed  to  death  cannot  hope  for  the  crown 
pertaining  to  virginity  ;  nor,  when  really  handed 
over  to  punishment,  can  he  expect  the  reward 
promised  to  chastity. 

CHAPTER   V. 

Now,  there  are  three  kinds  of  virtue,  by 
means  of  which  the  possession  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  secured.  The  first  is  chastity,  the 
second,  contempt  of  the  world,  and  the  third, 
righteousness,  which,  as  when  joined  together, 
they  very  greatly  benefit  their  possessors,  so, 
when  separated,  they  can  hardly  be  of  any 
advantage,  since  every  one  of  them  is  required, 
not  for  its  own  sake  only,  but  for  the  sake  of 
another.     First  of  all,  then,  chastity  is  demanded, 

2  Matt.  xix.  17. 

3  "  supra  mandatum  ":  Clericus  remarks  on  this,  "  Non  supra, 
sedpr&t/'r,  nam  ea  de  re  nihil  prsscepit  Christus." 

4  1  Cor.  vii.  25. 


6o 


LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS    (Doubtful). 


that  contempt  of  the  world  may  more  easily 
follow,  because  the  world  can  be  more  easily 
despised  by  those  who  are  not  held  fast  in  the 
bonds  of  matrimony.  Contempt  of  the  world, 
again,  is  required,  in  order  that  righteousness 
may  be  maintained,  which  those  can  with  diffi- 
culty fully  preserve  who  are  involved  in  desires 
after  worldly  advantages,  and  in  the  pursuit  of 
mundane  pleasures.  Whosoever,  therefore,  pos- 
sesses the  first  kind  of  virtue,  chastity,  but  does 
not,  at  the  same  time,  have  the  second,  which 
is  contempt  of  the  world,  possesses  the  first 
almost  to  no  purpose,  since  he  does  not  have 
the  second,  for  the  sake  of  which  the  first  was 
required.  And  if  any  one  possesses  the  first 
and  second,  but  is  destitute  of  the  third  which 
is  righteousness,  he  labors  in  vain,  since  the 
former  two  are  principally  required  for  the  sake 
of  the  third.  For  what  profits  it  to  possess 
chastity  in  order  to  contempt  of  the  world,  and 
yet  not  to  have  that  on  account  of  which  you 
have  the  other?  Or  why  should  you  despise 
the  things  of  the  world,  if  you  do  not  observe 
righteousness,  for  the  sake  of  which  it  is  fitting 
that  you  should  possess  chastity,  as  well  as  con- 
tempt for  the  world?  For  as  the  first  kind  of 
virtue  is  on  account  of  the  second,  and  the  sec- 
ond on  account  of  the  third,  so  the  first  and  the 
second  are  on  account  of  the  third ;  and  if  it 
does  not  exist,  neither  the  first  nor  the  second 
will  prove  of  any  advantage. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

But  you  perhaps  say  here,  "  Teach  me, 
then,  what  righteousness  is,  so  that  knowing  it, 
I  may  be  able  more  easily  to  fully  practice  it." 
Well,  I  shall  briefly  explain  it  to  you,  as  I  am 
able,  and  shall  use  the  simplicity  of  common 
words,  seeing  that  the  subject  of  which  we  treat 
is  such  as  ought  by  no  means  to  be  obscured  by 
attempts  at  eloquent  description,  but  should  be 
opened  up  by  the  simplest  forms  of  expression. 
For  a  matter  which  is  necessary  to  all  in  common 
ought  to  be  set  forth  in  a  common  sort  of  speech. 
Righteousness,  then,  is  nothing  else  than  not  to 
commit  sin  ;  and  not  to  commit  sin  is  just  to 
keep  the  precepts  of  the  law.  Now,  the  ob- 
servance of  these  precepts  is  maintained  in  a 
two-fold  way  —  thus,  that  one  do  none  of  those 
things  which  are  forbidden,  and  that  he  strive  to 
fulfill  the  things  which  are  commanded.  This  is 
the  meaning  of  the  following  statement :  "  De- 
part from  evil,  and  do1  good."  For  I  do  not 
wish  you  to  think  that  righteousness  consists 
simply  in  not  doing  evil,  since  not  to  do  good  is 
also  evil,  and  a  transgression  of  the  law  takes 
place  in  both,  since  he  who  said,  "  Depart  from 
evil "  said  also,  "  and  do  good."     If  you  depart 

1  Ps.  xxxiv.  14. 


from  evil,  and  do  not  do  good,  you  are  a  trans- 
gressor of  the  law,  which  is  fulfilled,  not  simply 
by  abhorring  all  evil  deeds,  but  also  by  the 
performance  of  good  works.  For,  indeed,  you 
have  not  merely  received  this  commandment, 
that  you  should  not  deprive  one  who  is  clothed 
of  his  garments,  but  that  you  should  cover  with 
your  own  the  man  who  has  been  deprived  of 
his  ;  nor  that  you  should  not  take  away  bread 
of  his  own  from  one  who  has  it,  but  that  you 
should  willingly  impart  of  your  bread  to  him 
who  has  none ;  nor  that  you  should  not  simply 
not  drive  away  a  poor  man  from  a  shelter  of  his 
own,  but  that  you  should  receive  him  when  he 
has  been  driven  out,  and  has  no  shelter,  into 
your  own.  For  the  precept  which  has  been 
given  us  is  "to  weep  with  them  that2  weep." 
But  how  can  we  weep  with  them,  if  we  share  in 
none  of  their  necessities,  and  afford  no  help  to 
them  in  those  matters  on  account  of  which  they 
lament?  For  God  does  not  call  for  the  fruit- 
less moisture  of  our  tears;  but,  because  tears 
are  an  indication  of  grief,  he  wishes  you  to  feel 
the  distresses  of  another  as  if  they  were  your 
own.  And  just  as  you  would  wish  aid  to  be 
given  you  if  you  were  in  such  tribulation,  so 
should  you  help  another  in  accordance  with  the 
statement,  "  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men 
should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even  so3  to  them." 
For  to  weep  with  one  that  weeps,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  refuse  to  help,  when  you  can,  him 
that  weeps,  is  a  proof  of  mockery,  and  not  of 
piety.  In  short,  our  Saviour  wept  with  Mary 
and  Martha,  the  sisters  of  Lazarus,  and  proved 
the  feeling  of  infinite  compassion  within  him  by 
the  witness  of  his  tears.  But  works,  as  the 
proofs  of  true  affection  soon  followed,  when 
Lazarus,  for  whose  sake  the  tears  were  shed,  was 
raised  up  and  restored  to  his  sisters.  This  was 
sincerely  to  weep  with  those  who  wept,  when  the 
occasion  of  the  weeping  was  removed.  But  he 
did  it,  you  will  say,  as  having  the  power.  Well, 
nothing  is  demanded  of  you  which  it  is  impos- 
sible for  you  to  perform  :  he  has  fulfilled  his 
entire  duty  who  has  done  what  he  could. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

But  (as  we  had  begun  to  remark)  it  is  not 
sufficient  for  a  Christian  to  keep  himself  from 
wickedness,  unless  he  also  has  fulfilled  the  duties 
implied  in  good  works,  as  is  very  distinctly 
proved  by  that  statement  in  which  the  Lord 
threatened  that  those  will  be  doomed  to  eternal 
fire,  who,  although  they  have  done  no  evil,  have 
not  done  all  that  is  good,  declaring  "  Then 
will  the  king  say  to  those  who  are  on  his  right 
hand  :  depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  into  eternal 

2  Rom.  xii.  15.  3  Matt.  vii.  12. 


LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS  (Doubtful). 


61 


fire,  which  ray  Father  has  prepared  for  the  devil 
and  his  angels ;  for  I  was  hungry,  and  ye  gave 
me  not  to  eat ;  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me 
no  *  drink,"  with  what  follows.  He  did  not  say, 
"Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed,  because  ye  have 
committed  murder,  or  adultery,  or  theft "  ;  for 
it  is  not  because  they  had  done  evil,  but  because 
they  had  not  done  good,  that  they  are  con- 
demned, and  doomed  to  the  punishments  of 
the  eternal  Gehenna ;  nor  because  they  had 
committed  things  which  were  forbidden,  but 
because  they  had  not  been  willing  to  do  those 
things  which  had  been  commanded.  And  from 
this  it  is  to  be  observed  what  hope  those  can 
have,  who,  in  addition,  do  some  of  those  things 
which  are  forbidden,  when  even  such  are  doomed 
to  eternal  fire  as  have  simply  not  done  the  things 
which  are  commanded.  For  I  do  not  wish  you 
to  flatter  yourself  in  this  way,  —  if  you  have  not 
done  certain  things,  because  you  have  done  cer- 
tain other  things,  since  it  is  written,  "  Whoso- 
ever shall  keep  the  whole  law,  and  yet  offend  in 
one  point,  has  become  guilty  of  all."2  For 
Adam  sinned  once,  and  died  ;  and  do  you  think 
that  you  can  live,  when  you  are  often  doing  that 
which  killed  another  person,  when  he  had  only 
done  it  once?  Or  do  you  imagine  that  he  com- 
mitted a  great  crime,  and  was  therefore  justly 
condemned  to  a  severer  punishment?  Let  us 
consider,  then,  what  it  was  he  really  did.  He 
ate  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree,  contrary  to  the  com- 
mandment. What  then?  Did  God  punish  man 
with  death  for  the  sake  of  the  fruit  of  a  tree? 
No  :  not  on  account  of  the  fruit  of  the  tree,  but 
on  account  of  the  contempt  of  the  command- 
ment. The  question,  therefore,  is  not  about  the 
nature  of  the  offense,  but  about  the  trans- 
gression of  the  commandment.  And  the  same 
being  who  told  Adam  not  to  eat  of  the  fruit  of 
the  tree,  has  commanded  you  not  to  speak  evil, 
not  to  lie,  not  to  detract,  not  to  listen  to  a  de- 
tractor, to  swear  not  at  all,  not  to  covet,  not  to 
envy,  not  to  be  drunken,  not  to  be  greedy,  not 
to  render  evil  for  evil  to  any  one,  to  love  your 
enemies,  to  bless  them  that  curse  you,  to  pray 
for  them  that  malign  and  persecute  you,  to  turn 
the  other  cheek  to  one  smiting  you,  and  not  to 
go  to  law  before  a  worldly  tribunal,  so  that,  if 
any  one  seeks  to  take  away  your  goods,  you 
should  joyfully  lose  them,  to  flee  from  the  charge 
of  avarice,  to  beware  of  the  sin  of  all  pride  and 
boastfulness,  and  live,  humble  and  meek,  after 
the  example  of  Christ,  avoiding  fellowship  with 
the  wicked  so  completely  that  you  will  not  even 
eat  with  fornicators,  or  covetous  persons,  or 
those  that  speak  evil  of  others,  or  the  envious, 
or  detractors,  or  the  drunken,  or  the  rapacious. 
Now,  if  you   despise  him   in  any  such   matter. 


1  Matt.  x.w.  41. 


2  James  ii.  io- 


then,  if  he  spared  Adam,  he  will  also  spare  you. 
Yea,  he  might  have  been  spared  with  better 
reason  than  you,  inasmuch  as  he  was  still  igno- 
rant and  inexperienced,  and  was  restrained  by 
the  example  of  no  one  who  had  previously 
sinned,  and  who  had  died  on  account  of  his  sin. 
But  after  such  examples  as  you  possess,  after 
the  law,  after  the  prophets,  after  the  gospels,  and 
after  the  apostles,  if  you  still  set  your  mind  on 
transgressing,  I  see  not  in  what  way  pardon  can 
be  extended  to  you. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Do  you  flatter  yourself  on  account  of  the  at- 
tribute of  virginity?  Remember  Adam  and 
Eve  fell  when  they  were  virgins,  and  that  the 
perfect  purity  of  their  bodies  did  not  profit  them 
when  they  sinned.  The  virgin  who  sins  is  to  be 
compared  to  Eve,  and  not  to  Mary.  We  do  not 
deny  that,  in  the  present  life,  there  is  the  rem- 
edy of  repentance,  but  we  remind  you  rather  to 
hope  for  reward,  than  to  look  for  pardon.  For 
it  is  disgraceful  that  those  should  ask  for  indul- 
gence who  are  expecting  the  crown  of  virginity, 
and  that  those  should  commit  anything  unlawful 
who  have  even  cut  themselves  off  from  things 
lawful ;  for  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  is  law- 
ful to  contract  an  alliance  by  marriage.  And 
as  those  are  to  be  praised  who,  from  love  to 
Christ,  and  for  the  glory  of  the  kingdom  oi 
heaven,  have  despised  the  tie  of  wedlock,  sc 
those  are  to  be  condemned  who,  through  the 
pleasure  of  incontinence,  after  they  have  vowed 
themselves  to  God,  have  recourse  to  the  Apostolic 
remedy.  Therefore,  as  we  have  said,  those  who 
decline  marriage  despise  not  things  unlawful, 
but  things  lawful.  And  if  that  class  of  people 
swear,  if  they  speak  evil  of  others,  if  they  are 
detractors,  or  if  they  patiently  listen  to  detract- 
ors, if  they  return  evil  for  evil,  if  they  incur  the 
charge  of  covetousness  with  respect  to  other 
people's  property,  or  of  avarice  in  regard  to 
their  own,  if  they  cherish  the  poison  of  revenge 
or  envy,  if  they  either  say  or  think  anything 
unbefitting  against  the  institutions  of  the  law  or 
the  Apostles,  if  with  a  desire  of  pleasing  in  the 
flesh,  they  exhibit  themselves  dressed  up  and 
adorned,  if  they  do  any  other  unlawful  things, 
as  is  only  too  common,  what  will  it  profit  them 
to  have  spurned  what  is  lawful,  while  they  prac- 
tice what  is  not  lawful?  If  you  wish  it  to  be  of 
advantage  to  you,  that  you  have  despised  things 
lawful,  take  care  that  you  do  not  any  of  those 
things  which  are  not  lawful.  For,  it  is  foolish 
to  have  dreaded  that  which  is  in  its  nature  less, 
and  not  to  dread  that  which  is  intrinsically  more 
[or  not  to  avoid  those  things  J  which  are  inter- 


1  The  genuineness  of  this  clause  is  very  doubtful,   and  the  text 
is,  at  best,  exceedingly  corrupt. 


62 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


dieted,  while  such  things  as  are  permitted  meet 
with  contempt].  For  the  Apostle  says,  "She 
that  is  unmarried  careth  for  the  things  of  the 
Lord,  how  she  may  please  God,  that  she  may 
be  holy  both  in  body  and  spirit ;  but  she  who  is 
married  careth  for  the  things  of  this  world,  how 
she  may  please2  her  husband."  He  thus  affirms 
that  the  married  woman  pleases  her  husband  by 
thinking  of  worldly  things,  while  the  unmarried 
woman  pleases  God,  inasmuch  as  she  has  no 
anxiety  about  the  things  of  the  world.  Let  him 
tell  me,  then,  whom  she  desires  to  please,  who 
has  no  husband,  and  yet  cares  for  the  things  of 
the  world  ?  Shall  not  the  married  woman,  in 
such  a  case,  be  preferred  to  her?  Yes,  since 
she  by  caring  for  the  things  of  the  world  pleases 
at  least  her  husband,  but  the  other  neither 
pleases  her  husband,  since  she  does  not  have 
one,  nor  can  she  please  God.3  But  it  is  not 
fitting  that  we  should  pass  over  in  silence  that 
which  he  said  :  "  The  unmarried  woman  careth 
for  the  things  of  the  Lord,  how  she  may  please 
God,  that  she  may  be  holy  both  in  body  and 
spirit  "  [she  careth,  he  says,  for  the  things  of  the 
Lord  ;  she  does  not  care  for  the  things  of  the 
world,  or  of  men,  but  for  the  things  of  God]. 
What,  then,  are  the  things  of  the  Lord?  Let 
the  Apostle  tell :  "Whatsoever4  things  are  holy, 
whatsoever  things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are 
lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report,  if 
there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise  of 
doctrine  "  :  these  are  the  things  of  the  Lord, 
which  holy  and  truly  apostolic  virgins  meditate 
upon,  and  think  of,  day  and  night,  without  any 
interval  of  time.  Of  the  Lord  is  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  dead,  of  the  Lord  is  immortality,  of 
the  Lord  is  incorruption,  of  the  Lord  is  that 
splendor  of  the  sun  which  is  promised  to  the 
saints,  as  it  is  written  in  the  Gospel,  "Then 
shall  the  righteous  shine  forth  as  the  sun  in  the 
kingdom  of  their  Father"  :5  of  the  Lord  are  the 
many  mansions  of  the  righteous  in  the  heavens, 
of  the  -  Lord  is  the  fruit  which  is  produced, 
whether  thirty  fold,  or  sixty  fold,*or  an  hundred 
fold.  Those  virgins  who  think  on  these  things, 
and  by  what  works  they  may  be  able  to  merit 
them,  think  of  the  things  of  the  Lord.  Of  the 
Lord,  too,  is  the  law  of  the  new  and  old  tes- 
tament, in  which  shine  forth  the  holy  utterances 
of  his  lips  ;  and  if  any  virgins  meditate  without 
intermission  on  these  things,  they  think  of  the 
things  of  the  Lord.  In  that  case,  there  is  ful- 
filled in  them  the  saying  of  the  prophet :  "  The 
eternal 6  foundations  are  upon  a  solid  rock,  and 
the  commands  of  God  are  in  the  heart  of  the 
holv  woman." 


2  i  Cor.  vii.  34. 

3  The   text   is   here  very   uncertain;    we  have  followed  that  of 
Halm,  but  with  hesitation. 

4  Phil.  iv.  8,  with  the  addition  of  €7rtcrT77/j.ij5. 

5  Matt.  xiii.  43.  °  Eccl.  xxvi.  24. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

There  follows  the  clause  "  how  she  may 
please  God,"  —  God,  I  say,  not  men,  —  "  that  she 
may  be  holy  both  in  body  and  spirit."  He  does 
not  say  that  she  may  be  holy  only  in  a  member 
or  in  the  body,  but  that  she  may  be  holy  in 
body  and  spirit.  For  a  member  is  only  one 
part  of  the  body,  but  the  body  is  a  union  of  all 
the  members.  When,  therefore,  he  says  that 
she  may  be  holy  in  the  body,  he  testifies  that 
she  ought  to  be  sanctified  in  all  her  members, 
because  the  sanctification  of  the  other  members 
will  not  avail,  if  corruption  be  found  remaining 
in  one.  Also,  she  will  not  be  holy  in  body 
(which  consists  of  all  the  members),  who  is  de- 
filed by  the  pollution  of  even  one  of  them. 
But  in  order  that  what  I  say  may  be  made  more 
obvious  and  clear,  suppose  the  case  of  a  woman 
who  is  purified  by  the  sanctification  of  all  her 
other  members,  and  sins  only  with  her  tongue, 
inasmuch  as  she  either  speaks  evil 1  of  people  or 
bears  false  testimony,  will  all  her  other  members 
secure  the  acquittal  of  one,  or  will  all  the  rest 
be  judged  on  account  of  the  one  ?  If,  there- 
fore, the  sanctification  of  the  other  members 
will  not  avail,  even  when  one  only  is  at  fault, 
how  much  more,  if  all  are  corrupted  by  the 
guilt  of  various  sins,  will  the  perfection  of  one 
be  of  no  avail  ? 


CHAPTER   X. 

Wherefore,  I  beseech  you,  O  virgin,  do  not 
flatter  yourself  on  the  ground  of  your  purity 
alone,  and  do  not  trust  in  the  perfection  of  one 
member  ;  but  according  to  the  Apostle,  main- 
tain the  sanctity  of  your  body  throughout. 
Cleanse  thy  head  from  all  defilement,  because 
it  is  a  disgrace  that  it,  after  the  sanctifying  oil 
has  been  applied  to  it,  should  be  polluted  with 
the  juice  or  powder  of  either  crocus,  or  any 
other  pigment,  or  should  be  adorned  with  gold 
or  gems  or  any  other  earthly  ornament,  because 
it  already  shines  with  the  radiance  of  heavenly 
adornment.  It  is  undoubtedly  a  grave  insult  to 
Divine  grace  to  prefer  to  it  any  mundane  and 
worldly  ornament.  And  next,  cleanse  thy  fore- 
head, that  it  may  blush  at  human,  and  not  at 
Divine  works,  and  may  display  that  shame  which 
gives  rise  not  to  sin,  but  to  the  favor  of  God, 
as  the  sacred  Scripture  declares,  "There  is  a 
shame  that  causes  sin,  and  there  is  a  shame  that 
brings  with  it  the  favor1  of  God."  Cleanse, 
too,  thy  neck,  that  it  may  not  carry  thy 2  locks 
in  a  golden  net  and  necklaces  hung  round  it, 


1  "  Elasphemet." 
1  Eccl.  iv.  21. 

-  The  text  is  here  most  uncertain:  Halm's  "  ut  non  aurea  reti- 
cula  capillus  portet  "  is  "  that  thy  hair  may  not  carry  golden  nets." 


LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS  (Doubtful). 


but  may  rather  bear  about  it  those  ornaments 
of  which  the  Scripture  says,  "Let  not3  mercy 
and  faith  depart  from  thee,"  and  hang  them 
upon  thy  heart  as  upon  thy  neck.  Cleanse  thine 
eyes,  whilst  thou  dost  withdraw  them  from  all 
concupiscence,  and  dost  never  turn  them  away 
from  the  sight  of  the  poor,  and  dost  keep  them 
from  all  dyes,  in  that  purity  in  which  they  were 
made  by  God.  Cleanse  thy  tongue  from  false- 
hood, because  "  a  mouth i  which  tells  lies  de- 
stroys the  soul "  :  cleanse  it  from  detraction,  from 
swearing,  and  from  perjury.  I  beg  you  not  to 
think  it  is  an  inverted  order  that  I  have  said  the 
tongue  should  be  cleansed  from  swearing  be- 
fore perjury,  for  one  will  then  the  more  easily 
escape  perjury,  if  he  swears  not  at  all,  so  that 
there  may  be  fulfilled  in  him  that  statement, 
"  Keep 5  thy  tongue  from  evil,  and  thy  lips  from 
speaking  guile."  And  be  mindful  of  the  Apostle 
who  says,  "Bless,  and G  curse  not."  But  often 
call  to  mind  the  following  words,  "  See  that 
no  one  render  evil  for  evil  to  any  man,  or  curs- 
ing for  cursing,  but  on  the  contrary,  do  ye  bless 
them,  because  to  this  ye  have  been  called,  that 
ye  should  possess  a  blessing7  by  inheritance  "  ; 
and  this  other  passage,  "  If  any 8  one  offend 
not  in  tongue,  he  is  a  perfect  man."  For  it  is 
shameful  that  those  lips,  by  which  you  confess 
God,  pray  to  him,  bless  him,  and  praise  him, 
should  be  defiled  by  the  pollution  of  any  sin. 
I  know  not  with  what  conscience  any  one  can 
pray  to  God  with  that  tongue  with  which  he 
either  speaks  falsehood,  or  calumniates,  or  de- 
tracts: God  listens  to  holy  lips,  and  speedily 
answers  those  prayers  which  an  unpolluted 
tongue  pours  forth.  Cleanse  also  thine  ears,  so 
that  they  may  not  listen  except  to  holy  and  true 
discourse,  that  they  never  admit  into  them  ob- 
scene, or  infamous,  or  worldly  words,  or  tolerate 
any  one  detracting  from  another,  on  account  of 
that  which  is  written,  "  Hedge  up 9  thine  ears 
with  thorns,  and  do  not  listen  to  a  wicked 
tongue,  that  you  may  have  your  part  with  him, 
of  whom  it  is  said,  that  he  was10  righteous  in 
hearing  and  seeing ;  i.e.  he  sinned  neither  with 
his  eyes  nor  his  ears.  Cleanse,  too,  thy  hands, 
"  that  they  u  be  not  stretched  out  to  receive,  but 
shut  against  giving,"  and  that  they  be  not  prompt 
to  strike,  but  ever  ready  for  all  the  works  of 
mercy  and  piety.  In  fine,  cleanse  thy  feet,  that 
they  follow  not  the  broad  and  ample  way  which 
leads  to  grand  and  costly  worldly  banquets,  but 
that  they  tread  rather  the  difficult  and  narrow 
path,  which  guides  to  heaven,  for  it  is  written, 
"Make  a12  straight  path  for  your  feet."  Ac- 
knowledge that  your  members  were  formed  for 


3  Prov.  iii.  3. 

4  Wisd.  i.  11. 

5  Ps.  xxxiv.  13. 
0  Rom.  xii.  14. 

7  1  Thess.  v.  15;   1  Pet.  iii.  9. 


8  James  iii.  2. 

0  Eccl.  xxviii.  24. 

10  2  Pet.  ii.  8. 

11  Eccles.  iv.  31. 

12  Prov.  iv.  26. 


you  by  God  the  Maker,  not  for  vices,  but  for 
virtues  ;  and,  when  you  have  cleansed  the  whole 
of  your  limbs  from  every  stain  of  sin,  and  they 
have  become  sanctified  throughout  your  whole 
body,  then  understand  that  this  purity  will  profit 
you,  and  look  forward  with  all  confidence  to  the 
prize  of  virginity. 


CHAPTER   XL 

I  believe  that  I  have  now  set  forth,  briefly 
indeed,  but,  at  the  same  time,  fully,  what  is  im- 
plied in  a  woman's  purity  of  body :  it  remains 
that  we  should  learn  what  it  is  to  be  pure  also 
in  spirit ;  i.e.  that  what  it  is  unlawful  for  one  to 
do  in  act,  it  is  also  unlawful  for  one  even  to 
imagine  in  thought.  For  she  is  holy,  alike  in 
body  and  in  spirit,  who  sins  neither  in  mind  nor 
heart,  knowing  that  God  is  one  who  examines 
also  the  heart ;  and,  therefore,  she  takes  every 
pains  to  possess  a  mind  as  well  as  a  body  free 
from  sin.  Such  a  person  is  aware  that  it  is 
written,  "Keep  thy1  heart  with  all  diligence"; 
and  again,  "  God  loveth 2  holy  hearts,  and  all 
the  undefiled  are  acceptable  to  him  "  ;  and  else- 
where, "  Blessed 3  are  those  of  a  pure  heart ;  for 
they  shall  see  God."  I  think  that  this  last 
statement  is  made  regarding  those  whom  con- 
science accuses  of  the  guilt  of  no  sin ;  concern- 
ing whom  I  think  that  John  also  spoke  in  his 
Epistle  when  he  said,  "  If  our  heart  4  condemn 
us  not,  then  have  we  confidence  towards  God, 
and  whatsoever  we  ask  we  shall  receive  from 
him."  I  do  not  wish  you  to  think  that  you  have 
escaped  the  accusation  of  sin,  although  act  does 
not  follow  desire,  since  it  is  written,  "  Whoso- 
ever5 looketh  on  a  woman  to  lust  after  her, 
hath  already  committed  adultery  with  her  in  his 
heart."  And  do  not  say,  "  I  had  the  thought, 
indeed,  but  I  did  not  carry  it  out  in  act  "  ;  for 
it  is  unlawful  even  to  desire  that  which  it  is 
unlawful  to  do.  Wherefore  also  blessed  Peter 
issues  a  precept  to  this  effect :  "  purify  your 6 
souls  "  ;  and  if  he  had  not  been  aware  of  such 
a  thing  as  defilement  of  the  soul,  he  would  not 
have  expressed  a  desire  that  it  should  be  puri- 
fied. But  we  should  also  very  carefully  con- 
sider that  passage  which  says,  "  These "'  are 
they  who  did  not  defile  themselves  with  women, 
for  they  remained  virgins,  and  they  follow  the 
Lamb  whithersoever  he  goeth  "  ;  and  should  re- 
flect whether,  if  these  are  joined  to  the  Divine 
retinue,  and  traverse  all  the  regions  of  the 
heavens,  through  the  merit  of  chastity  and 
purity  alone,  there  may  be  also  other  means  by 
which  virginity  being  assisted  may  attain  to  the 


1  Prov.  iv.  23. 

2  Prov.  xvii.  3;   xi. 

3  Matt.  v.  8. 

4  1  John  iii,  21. 


Matt.  v.  28. 
1  Pet.  i.  22. 
Rev.  xiv.  4. 


64 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


glory  of  so  great  blessedness.  But  whence 
shall  we  be  able  to  know  this?  From  the  fol- 
lowing passages  (if  I  mistake  not)  in  which  it  is 
written,  "These  were8  purchased  from  among 
men  as  the  first  fruits  to  God  and  the  Lamb, 
and  in  their  mouth  there  was  found  no  false- 
hood, for  they  are  without  spot  before  the  throne 
of  God."  You  see,  then,  that  they  are  spoken 
of  as  closely  following  in  the  footsteps  of  the 
Lord,  not  in  virtue  of  one  member  only,  but 
those  are  said  to  do  so,  who,  besides  virginity, 
had  passed  a  life  freed  from  all  the  pollution  of 
sin.  Wherefore,  let  the  virgin  especially  despise 
marriage  on  this  account,  that,  while  she  is  safer 
than  others,  she  may  the  more  easily  accomplish 
what  is  also  required  from  those  who  are  mar- 
ried ;  viz.  keep  herself  from  all  sin,  and  obey 
all  the  commandments  of  the  law.  For  if  she 
does  not  marry,  and  nevertheless  indulges  in 
those  things  from  which  even  married  women 
are  enjoined  to  keep  themselves  free,  what  will 
it  profit  her  not  to  have  married  ?  For  although 
it  is  not  allowed  to  any  Christian  to  commit  sin, 
and  it  befits  all  without  exception  who  are  puri- 
fied through  the  sanctification  of  the  spiritual 
bath,  to  lead  an  unstained  life,  that  they  may  be 
thoroughly  identified9  with  the  Church,  which 
is  described  as  being  "without10  spot,  or  wrinkle, 
or  any  such  thing,"  much  more  is  it  requisite 
that  a  virgin  should  reach  this  standard,  whom 
neither  the  existence  of  a  husband,  nor  of  sons, 
nor  of  any  other  necessity,  prevents  from  fully 
carrying  out  the  demands  of  holy  Scripture  ;  nor 
shall  she  be  able,  if  she  fail,  to  defend  herself 
by  any  sort  of  excuse. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

O  virgin,  maintain  thy  purpose  which  is  des- 
tined for  a  great  reward.  Eminent  with  the 
Lord  is  the  virtue  of  virginity  and  purity,  if  it 
be  not  disfigured  by  other  kinds  of  lapses  into 
sins  and  wickedness.  Realize  your  state,  realize 
your  position,  realize  your  purpose.  You  are 
called  the  bride  of  Christ ;  see  that  you  commit 
no  act  which  is  unworthy  of  him  to  whom  you 
profess  to  be  betrothed.  He  will  quickly  write 
a  bill  of  divorcement,  if  he  perceive  in  you  even 
one  act  of  unfaithfulness.  Accordingly,  whoso- 
ever receives  those  gifts  which,  as  an  earnest, 
are  bestowed  in  the  case  of  human  betrothals, 
immediately  begins  earnestly  and  diligently  to 
enquire  of  domestics,  intimates,  and  friends, 
what  is  the  character  of  the  young  man,  what 
he  especially  loves,  what  he  receives,  in  what 
style  he  lives,  what  habits  he  practices,  what  lux- 
uries he  indulges  in,  and  in  what  pursuits  he 


8  Rev.  xiv.  4  ff. 

0  "  visceribus  intimari." 


Eph.  v.  27. 


finds  his  chief  pleasure  and  delight.  And  when 
she  has  learned  these  things,  she  so  conducts 
herself,  in  all  respects,  that  her  service,  her 
cheerfulness,  her  diligence,  and  her  whole  mode 
of  life,  may  be  in  harmony  with  the  char- 
acter of  her  betrothed.  And  do  thou,  who 
hast  Christ  as  thy  bridegroom,  enquire  from 
the  domestics  and  intimates  of  that  bridegroom 
of  thine  what  is  his  character ;  yes,  do  thou 
zealously  and  skillfully  enquire  in  what  things  he 
specially  delights,  what  sort  of  arrangement  he 
loves  in  thy  dress,  and  what  kind  of  adornment 
he  desires.  Let  his  most  intimate  associate 
Peter  tell  thee,  who  does  not  allow  personal 
adorning  even  to  married  women,  as  he  has 
written  in  his  epistle,  "  Let  wives,1  in  like 
manner,  be  subject  to  their  own  husbands,  so 
that,  if  any  believe  not  the  word,  they  may, 
without  the  word,  be  won  over  by  the  conduct 
of  their  wives,  contemplating  their  chaste  be- 
havior in  the  fear  of  God  ;  and  let  theirs  not  be 
an  outward  adornment  of  the  hair,  or  the  put- 
ting on  of  gold,  or  elegance  in  the  apparel  which 
is  adopted,  but  let  there  be  the  hidden  man  of 
the  heart  in  the  stainlessness 2  of  a  peaceful 
and  modest  spirit,  which  is  in  the  sight  of  God 
of  great  price."  Let  another  apostle  also  tell 
thee,  the  blessed  Paul,  who,  writing  to  Timothy, 
gives  his  approval  to  the  same  things  in  regard 
to  the  conduct  of  believing  women :  "  Let 
wives3  in  like  manner  adorn  themselves  with  the 
ornament  of  a  habit  of  modesty  and  sobriety, 
not  with  curled  hair,  or  gold,  or  pearls,  or  costly 
array,  but  as  becomes  women  that  profess 
chastity,  with  good  and  upright  behavior." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

But  perhaps  you  say,  "Why  did  not  the 
Apostles  enjoin  these  things  on  virgins?"  Be- 
cause they  did  not  think  that  necessary,  lest  such 
an  exhortation,  if  given  to  them,  might  rather 
seem  an  insult  than  a  means  of  edification.  Nor, 
in  fact,  would  they  have  believed  that  virgins 
could  ever  proceed  to  such  an  extreme  of  har- 
dihood, as  to  claim  for  themselves  carnal  and 
worldly  ornaments,  not  permitted  even  to  mar- 
ried women.  Undoubtedly,  the  virgin  ought  to 
adorn  and  array  herself;  for  how  can  she  be 
able  to  please  her  betrothed,  if  she  does  not 
come  forth  in  a  neat  and  ornamental  form? 
Let  her  be  adorned  by  all  means,  but  let  her 
ornaments  be  of  an  internal  and  spiritual  kind, 
and  not  of  a  carnal  nature  ;  for  God  desires  in 
her  a  beauty  not  of  the  body,  but  of  the  soul. 
Do  thou,  therefore,  who  desirest  that  thy  soul 

1  1  Pet.  iii.  1  ff. 
-  "  incorruptibilitate." 

3  1  Tim.  ii.  9,  10;  chastity  is  here  unwarrantably  read  in  place 
of  godliness. 


LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS    (Doubtful). 


65 


should  be  loved  and  dwelt  in  by  God,  array  it 
with  all  diligence,  and  adorn  it  with  spiritual 
garments.  Let  nothing  unbecoming,  nothing 
repulsive,  be  seen  in  it.  Let  it  shine  with  the 
gold  of  righteousness,  and  gleam  with  the  gems 
of  holiness,  and  glitter  with  the  most  precious 
pearl  of  purity  ;  instead  of  fine  linen  and  silk,  let 
it  be  arrayed  in  the  robe  of  mercifulness  and 
piety,  according  to  what  is  written,  "  Put  ye  1  on, 
therefore,  as  the  elect  of  God,  holy  and  beloved, 
bowels  of  mercy,  kindness,  humility,"  and  so 
forth.  And  let  the  virgin  not  ask  for  the  beauty 
due  to  ceruse,2  or  any  other  pigment,  but  let  her 
have  the  brightness  of  innocence  and  simplicity, 
the  rosy  hue  of  modesty,  and  the  purple  glow  of 
honorable  shamefacedness.  Let  her  be  washed 
with  the  nitre  of  heavenly  doctrine,  and  purified 
by  all  spiritual  lavements.3  Let  no  stain  of 
malice  or  sin  be  left  in  her.  And  lest,  at  any 
time,  she  should  give  forth  the  evil  odor  of  sin, 
let  her  be  imbued,  through  and  through,  with 
the  most  pleasant  ointment  of  wisdom  and 
knowledge. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

God  seeks  for  adornment  of  this  kind,  and 
desires  a  soul  arrayed  in  such  a  manner.  Re- 
member that  you  are  called  the  daughter  of 
God,  according  to  what  he  says,  "  Hearken,1  O 
daughter,  and  consider."  But  you  yourself  also, 
as  often  as  you  call  God  your  Father,  bear  wit- 
ness that  you  are  the  daughter  of  God.  Where- 
fore, if  you  are  the  daughter  of  God,  take  care 
that  you  do  none  of  those  things  which  are  un- 
worthy of  God,  your  Father ;  but  do  all  things 
as  being  the  daughter  of  God.  Reflect  how  the 
daughters  of  nobles  in  this  world  conduct  them- 
selves, to  what  habits  they  are  accustomed  and 
by  what  exercises  they  train  themselves.  In 
some  of  them,  there  is  so  great  modesty,  so  great 
dignity,  so  great  self-restraint,  that  they  excel 
the  habits  of  other  human  beings  in  regard  to 
human  nobleness,  and,  lest  they  should  attach 
any  mark  of  disgrace  on  their  honorable  parents 
by  their  failure,  they  strive  to  acquire  another  - 
nature  for  themselves  by  the  mode  of  their 
acting  in  the  world.  And  do  you,  therefore, 
have  regard  to  your  origin,  consider  your  de- 
scent, attend  to  the  glory  of  your  nobility. 
Acknowledge  that  you  are  not  merely  the 
daughter  of  man,  but  of  God,  and  adorned  with 
the  nobility  of  a  divine  birth.  So  present  your- 
self to  the  world   that  your  heavenly  birth  be 


1  Col.  iii.  12. 

2  "cerussEe":  white   lead,   used    by  women   to   whiten    their 
skins. 

3  "lomentis":    a  mixture   of   bean-meal    and   rice,  used   as   a 
lotion  to  preserve  the  smoothness  of  the  skin. 

1  Ps.  xlv.  10. 

2  Only  a  guess  can  here  be  made  at  the  meaning;  the  text  is  in 
utter  confusion. 


seen  in  you,  and  your  divine  nobleness  shine 
clearly  forth.  Let  there  be  in  you  a  new  dignity, 
an  admirable  virtue,  a  notable  modesty,  a  mar- 
velous patience,  a  gait  becoming  a  virgin  with  a 
bearing  of  true  shamefacedness,  speech  always 
modest,  and  such  as  is  uttered  only  at  the 
proper  time,  so  that  whosoever  beholds  you  may 
admiringly  exclaim  :  "What  is  this  exhibition  of 
new  dignity  among  men?  What  is  this  striking 
modesty,  what  this  well-balanced  excellence, 
what  this  ripeness  of  wisdom  ?  This  is  not  the 
outcome  of  human  training  or  of  mere  human 
discipline.  Something  heavenly  sheds  its  fra- 
grance on  me  in  that  earthly  body.  I  really 
believe  that  God  does  reside  in  some  human 
beings."  And  when  he  comes  to  know  that  you 
are  a  handmaid  of  Christ,  he  will  be  seized  with 
the  greater  amazement,  and  will  reflect  how 
marvelous  must  be  the  Master,  when  his  hand- 
maid manifests  such  excellence. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

If  you  wish,  then,  to  be  with  Christ,  you  must 
live  according  to  the  example  of  Christ,  who  was 
so  far  removed  from  all  evil  and  wickedness, 
that  he  did  not  render  a  recompense  even  to 
his  enemies,  but  rather  even  prayed  for  them. 
For  I  do  not  wish  you  to  reckon  those  souls 
Christian,  who  (I  do  not  say)  hate  either  their 
brothers  or  sisters,  but  who  do  not,  before  God 
as  a  witness,  love  their  neighbors  with  their 
whole  heart  and  conscience,  since  it  is  a  bounden 
duty  for  Christians,  after  the  example  of  Christ 
himself,  even  to  love  their  enemies.  If  you 
desire  to  possess  fellowship  with  the  saints, 
cleanse  your  heart  from  the  thought  of  malice 
and  sin.  Let  no  one  circumvent  you  ;  let  no 
one  delude  you  by  beguiling  speech.  The  court 
of  heaven  will  admit  none  except  the  holy,  and 
righteous,  and  simple,  and  innocent,  and  pure. 
Evil  has  no  place  in  the  presence  of  God.  It  is 
necessary  that  he  who  desires  to  reign  with 
Christ  should  be  free  from  all  wickedness  and 
guile.  Nothing  is  so  offensive,  and  nothing  so 
detestable  to  God,  as  to  hate  any  one,  to  wish 
to  harm  any  one  ;  while  nothing  is  so  acceptable 
to  him  as  to  love  all  men.  The  prophet  know- 
ing this  bears  witness  to  it  when  he  teaches, 
"Ye  who1  love  the  Lord,  hate  evil." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Take  heed  that  ye  love  not  human  glory  in 
any  respect,  lest  your  portion  also  be  reckoned 
among  those  to  whom  it  was  said,  "  How x  can 
ye  believe,  who  seek  glory,  one  from  another?" 


1  Ps.  xcvii.  10. 


1  John  v.  44. 


66 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


and  of  whom  it  is  said  through  the  prophet, 
"  Increase  2  evils  to  them  ;  increase  evils  to  the 
boastful  of  the  earth  "  ;  and  elsewhere,  "  Ye  are 
confounded 3  from  your  boasting,  from  your  re- 
proaching in  the  sight  of  the  Lord."  For  I  do 
not  wish  you  to  have  regard  to  those,  who  are 
virgins  of  the  world,  and  not  of  Christ ;  who  un- 
mindful of  their  purpose  and  profession,  rejoice 
in  delicacies,  are  delighted  with  riches,  and  boast 
of  their  descent  from  a  merely  carnal  nobility ; 
who,  if  they  assuredly  believed  themselves  to  be 
the  daughters  of  God,  would  never,  after  their 
divine  ancestry,  admire  mere  human  nobility, 
nor  glory  in  any  honored  earthly  father  :  if  they 
felt  that  they  had  God  as  their  Father,  they 
would  not  love  any  nobility  connected  with  the 
flesh.  Why,  thou  foolish  woman,  dost  thou 
flatter  thyself  about  the  nobleness  of  thy  descent, 
and  take  delight  in  it?  God,  at  the  beginning, 
created  two  human  beings,  from  whom  the  whole 
multitude  of  the  human  race  has  descended  ; 
and  thus  it  is  not  the  equity  of  nature,  but  the 
ambition  of  evil  desire,  which  has  given  rise  to 
worldly  nobility.  Unquestionably,  we  are  all 
rendered  equal  by  the  grace  of  the  divine 4  bath, 
and  there  can  be  no  difference  among  those, 
whom  the  second  birth  has  generated,  by  means 
of  which  alike  the  rich  man  and  the  poor  man, 
the  free  man  and  the  slave,  the  nobly  born  and 
the  lowly  born,  is  rendered  a  son  of  God.  Thus 
mere  earthly  rank  is  overshadowed  by  the  bril- 
liance of  heavenly  glory,  and  henceforth  is  taken 
no  account  of,  while  those  who  formerly  had 
been  unequal  in  worldly  honors  are  now  equally 
arrayed  in  the  glory  of  a  heavenly  and  divine 
nobility.  There  is  now  among  such  no  place 
for  lowness  of  birth ;  nor  is  any  one  inferior  to 
another  whom  the  majesty  of  the  divine  birth 
adorns ;  except  in  the  estimation  of  those  who 
do  not  think  that  the  things  of  heaven  are  to  be 
preferred  to  those  of  earth.  There  can  be  no 
worldly  boasting  among  them,  if  they  reflect  how 
vain  a  thing  it  is  that  they  should,  in  smaller  mat- 
ters, prefer  themselves  to  those  whom  they  know 
to  be  equal  to  themselves  in  greater  matters,  and 
should  regard,  as  placed  below  themselves  on 
earth,  those  whom  they  believe  to  be  equal  to 
themselves  in  what  relates  to  heaven.  But  do 
thou,  who  art  a  virgin  of  Christ,  and  not  of  the 
world,  flee  from  all  the  glory  of  this  present  life, 
that  thou  mayest  attain  to  the  glory  which  is 
promised  in  the  world  to  come. 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

Avoid  words  of  contention  and  causes  of  ani- 
mosity :  flee  also  from  all  occasions  of  discord 


2  Isa.  xxvi.  15,  after  the  LXX. 

3  Jer.  xii.  13,  after  the  LXX. 

i  "  divini  lavacri  " :   referring  to  baptism. 


and  strife.  For  if,  according  to  the  doctrine  of 
the  Apostle  "  the  servant :  of  the  Lord  must  not 
strive,"  how  much  more  does  this  become  the 
handmaid  of  the  Lord,  whose  mind  ought  to  be 
more  gentle,  as  her  sex  is  more  bashful  and 
retiring.  Restrain  thy  tongue  from  evil  speak- 
ing, and  put  the  bridle  of  the  law  upon  thy 
mouth ;  so  that  you  shall  speak,  if  you  speak  at 
all,  only  when  it  would  be  a  sin  to  be  silent. 
Beware  lest  you  utter  anything  which  might  be 
justly  found  fault  with.  A  word  once  spoken  is 
like  a  stone  which  has  been  thrown  :  wherefore 
it  should  be  long  thought  over  before  it  is 
uttered.  Blessed,  assuredly,  are  the  lips,  which 
never  utter  what  they  would  wish  to  recall. 
The  talk  of  a  chaste  mind  ought  itself  also  to  be 
chaste,  such  as  may  always  rather  edify  than 
injure  the  hearers,  according  to  that  command- 
ment of  the  Apostle  when  he  says,  "  Let  no 2 
corrupt  communications  proceed  out  of  your 
mouth,  but  that  which  is  good  for  the  edification 
of  faith,  that  it  may  convey  grace  to  them  that 
hear."  Precious  to  God  is  that  tongue  which 
knows  not  to  form  words  except  about  divine 
things,  and  holy  is  that  mouth  from  which 
heavenly  utterances  continually  flow  forth.  Put 
down  by  the  authority  of  Scripture  calumniators 
of  those  who  are  absent,  as  being  evil-minded 
persons,  because  the  prophet  mentions  this  also 
as  among  the  virtues  of  a  perfect  man,  if,  in  the 
presence  of  the  righteous  an  evil-minded  man, 
who  brings  forward  things  against  his  neighbor 
which  cannot  be  proved,  is  brought  down  to 
nothing.  For  it  is  not  lawful  for  you  patiently 
to  listen  to  evil-speaking  against  another,  inas- 
much as  you  would  not  wish  that  to  be  done  by 
others  when  directed  against  yourself.  Certainly, 
everything  is  unrighteous  which  goes  against  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  and  that  is  the  case,  if  you 
quietly  permit  anything  to  be  done  to  another, 
which  you  would  feel  painful,  if  done  by  any 
one  to  yourself.  Accustom  your  tongue  always 
to  speak  about  those  who  are  good,  and  lend 
your  ears  rather  to  listen  to  the  praises  of  good 
men  than  to  the  condemnation  of  such  as  are 
wicked.  Take  heed  that  all  the  good  actions 
you  perform  are  done  for  the  sake  of  God, 
knowing  that  for  every  such  deed  you  will  only 
receive  a  reward,  so  far  as  you  have  done  it  out 
of  regard  to  his  fear  and  love.  Study  rather  to 
be  holy  than  to  appear  so,  because  it  is  of  no 
avail  to  be  reckoned  what  you  are  not ;  and  the 
guilt  of  a  twofold  sin  is  contracted  when  you  do 
not  have  what  you  are  credited  with  having,  and 
when  you  pretend  to  possess  what  you  do  not 
possess. 


1  2  Tim.  ii.  24. 


Eph.  iv.  29. 


LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS    (Doubtful). 


67 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Delight  thyself  rather  in  fastings  than  in 
feastings,  mindful  of  that  widow  who  did  not 
depart  from  the  temple,  but  served  God  with 
fastings  and  prayers  day  and  night.  Now,  if 
she  who  was  a  widow,  and  a  Jewish  widow, 
proved  herself  such,  what  is  it  fitting  that  a  vir- 
gin of  Christ  should  now  attain  to  ?  Love  more 
than  any  other  thing  the  feast  of  the  divine 
word,  and  desire  that  you  be  filled  with  spiritual 
dainties,  while  you  seek  for  such  food  as  re- 
freshes the  soul,  rather  than  for  that  which  only 
pleases  the  body.  Flee  from  all  kinds  of  flesh 
and  wine,  as  being  the  sources  of  heat  and 
provocatives  to  lust.  And  only  then,  if  need  be, 
use  a  little  wine,  when  the  stomach's  uneasiness, 
or  great  infirmity  of  body,  requires  you  to  do' 
so.  Subdue  anger,  restrain  enmity,  and  what- 
ever there  may  be  which  gives  rise  to  remorse 
when  it  is  done,  avoid  as  an  abomination  giving 
rise 1  to  immediate  sin.  It  is  fitting  that  that 
mind  should  be  very  tranquil  and  quiet,  as  well 
as  free  from  all  the  tumults  of  anger,  which 
desires  to  be  the  dwelling-place  of  God,  as  he 
testifies  through  the  prophet,  saying,  "  Upon 2 
what  other  man  shall  I  rest  than  upon  him  who 
is  humble  and  quiet,  and  who  trembleth  at  my 
words?"  Believe  that  God  is  a  witness  of  all 
thy  deeds  and  thoughts,  and  take  good  heed  lest 
you  either  do  or  think  anything  which  is  un- 
worthy of  the  divine  eyesight.  When  you  de- 
sire to  engage  in  prayer,  show  yourself  in  such 
a  frame  of  mind  as  becomes  one  who  is  to  speak 
with  the  Lord. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

When  you  repeat1  a  psalm,  consider  whose 
words  you  are  repeating  and  delight  yourself 
more  with  true  contrition  of  soul,  than  with  the 
pleasantness  of  a  trilling  voice.  For  God  sets  a 
higher  value  on  the  tears  of  one  thus  praising  2 
him,  than  on  the  beauty  of  his  voice  ;  as  the 
prophet  says,  "  Serve 3  the  Lord  with  fear,  and 
rejoice  with  trembling."  Now,  where  there  are 
fear  and  trembling,  there  is  no  lifting  up  of  the 
voice,  but  humility  of  mind  with  lamentation 
and  tears.  Display  diligence  in  all  thy  doings  ; 
for  it  is  written,  "  Cursed 4  is  the  man  who 
carelessly  performs  the  work  of  the  Lord." 
Let  grace  grow  in  you  with  years  ;  let  righteous- 
ness increase  with  age  ;  and  let  your  faith  ap- 
pear the  more  perfect  the   older  you  become ; 


1  "  velut  proximi  criminis  abominationem  declina":  the  text 
and  construction  are  both  very  uncertain,  so  that  we  can  only  make 
a  guess  at  the  meaning. 

2  Isa.  lxvi.  2. 

1  "  dicis  " :   the  reference  seems  to  be  to  singing  or  chanting. 

2  "  psallentis."  3  ps.  u.  ri_  4  jer.  xivui.  IO, 


for  Jesus,  who  has  left  us  an  example  how  to 
live,  increased  not  only  in  years  as  respected 
his  body,  but  in  wisdom  and  spiritual  grace  be- 
fore God  and  men.  Reckon  all  the  time  in 
which  you  do  not  perceive  yourself  growing 
better  as  positively  lost.  Maintain  to  the  last 
that  purpose  of  virginity  which  you  have  formed  ; 
for  it  is  the  part  of  virtue  not  merely  to  begin, 
but  to  finish,  as  the  Lord  says  in  the  Gospel, 
"Whosoever5  shall  endure  to  the  end,  the  same 
shall  be  saved."  Beware,  therefore,  lest  you 
furnish  to  any  one  an  occasion  even  of  evil 
desire,  because  thy  God,  betrothed  to  thee,  is 
jealous ;  for  an  adulteress  against  Christ  is  more 
guilty  than  one  against  her  husband.  Be  thou, 
therefore,  a  model  of  life  to  all ;  be  an  example  ; 
and  excel  in  actual  conduct  those  whom  you 
precede  in  your  consecration e  to  chastity. 
Show  thyself  in  all  respects  a  virgin ;  and  let 
no  stain  of  corruption  be  brought  as  a  charge 
against  thy  person.  And  let  one  whose  body  is 
perfect  in  its  purity  be  also  irreproachable  in 
conduct.  Now,  as  we  said  in  the  beginning  of 
this  letter,  that  you  have  become  a  sacrifice  per- 
taining to  God,  such  a  sacrifice  as  undoubtedly 
imparts  its  own  sanctity  also  to  others,  that,  as 
every  one  worthily  receives  from  it,  he  himself 
also  may  be  a  partaker  of  sanctification,  so 
then,  let  the  other  virgins  also  be  sanctified 
through  you,  as  by  means  of  a  divine  offering. 
Show  yourself  to  them  so  holy  in  all  things, 
that,  whosoever  comes  in  contact  with  thy  life, 
whether  by  hearing  or  seeing,  may  experience 
the  power  of  sanctification,  and  may  feel  that 
such  an  amount  of  grace  passes  to  him  from 
your  manner  of  acting,  that,  while  he  desires  to 
imitate  thee,  he  himself  becomes  worthy  of  being 
a  sacrifice  devoted  to  God. 


LETTER    III. 

A    LETTER    OF    SEVERUS   TO    HOLY   PAUL   THE 
BISHOP. 

After  I  learned  that  all  thy  cooks  had  given1 
up  thy  kitchen  (I  believe  because  they  felt  in- 
dignant at  having  to  fulfill  the  duty  towards  cheap 
dishes  of  pulse"),  I  sent  a  little  boy  to  you  out 
of  our  own  workshop.  He  is  quite  skillful  enough 
to  cook  pale  beans  and  to  pickle  homely  beet- 
root, with  vinegar  and  sauce,  as  well  as  to  pre- 
pare cheap  porridge  for  the  jaws  of  the  hungry 
monks.  He  knows  nothing,  however,  of  pepper 
or  of  laser,3  but  he  is  quite  at  home  with  cumin, 


5  Matt.  x.  22. 

e  The  text  and  meaning  are  here  somewhat  uncertain. 

1  "  renuntiasse." 

2  "  pulmentariis " :    this   word    generally    means    some    sort    of 
relish,  but  here  it  seems  to  denote  a  kind  of  pottage. 

a  Laser  was  the  juice  of  a  plant  called  laserpitium. 


68 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


and  is  especially  clever  in  plying  the  noisy  mor- 
tar with  sweetly  smelling  plants.  He  has  one 
fault,  that  he  is  no  kindly  foe  to  admit  to  any 
garden ;  for  if  let  in,  he  will  mow  down  with  a 
sword  all  things  within  his  reach,  and  he  will 
never  be  satisfied  with  the  slaughter  simply  of 
mallows.  However,  in  furnishing  himself  with 
fuel  he  will  not  swindle  you.  He  will  burn  what- 
ever comes  in  his  way ;  he  will  cut  down  and 
not  hesitate  to  lay  hands  upon  buildings,  and  to 
carry  off  old  beams  from  the  household.  We 
present  him,  then,  to  you,  with  this  character 
and  these  virtues  ;  and  we  wish  you  to  regard 
him  not  as  a  servant,  but  as  a  son,  because  you 
are  not  ashamed  to  be  the  father  of  very  small 
creatures.  I  myself  would  have  wished  to  serve 
you  instead  of  him  ;  but  if  good-will  may  be 
taken  as  in  some  measure  standing  for  the  deed, 
do  you  only,  in  return,  take  care  to  remember 
me  amid  your  breakfasts  and  delightful  dinners, 
because  it  is  more  proper  to  be  your  slave,  than 
the  master  of  others.     Pray  for  me.4 


LETTER    IV. 

TO   THE    SAME,    ON    HIS   WISDOM    AND     GENTLENESS. 

The  faithful  exponent  of  our  holy  religion  so 
arranges  all  things  that  no  place  be  found  in 
future  for  transgressors  :  for  what  else  do  you, 
for  instance,  promise  us  by  so  great  sanctity  of 
character,  than  that,  all  errors  being  laid  aside, 
we  should  lead  a  blessed  life  ?  In  this  matter, 
I  see  that  the  greatest  praise  befits  thy  virtues, 
because  you  have  changed  even  an  uninstructed 
mind  by  your  exhortations,  and  drawn  it  over  to 
an  excellent  condition.  But  it  would  not  seem 
so  wonderful,  if  you  had  simply  strengthened 
educated  minds  by  instilling  wisdom  into  them  ; 
for  intelligent  men  have  a  sort  of  relationship  to 
devotion,  but  rustic  natures  are  not  easily  won 
over  to  the  side  of  severity.1  Just  as  those  who 
shape  the  forms  of  animals  out  of  stone,  under- 
take a  business  of  a  pretty  difficult  kind,  when 
they  strike  very  hard  rocks  with  their  chisels, 
while  those  who  make  their  attempts  on  sub- 
stances of  a  softer  nature  feel  that  their  hands 
are  aided  by  the  ease  of  fashioning  these  mate- 
rials, and  it  is  deemed  proper  that  the  labor  of 
the  workman,  when  difficult,  should  be  held  in 
-the  highest  honor,  so,  Sir,  singular  commenda- 
tion ought  so  be  given  to  you,  because  you  have 
made  unpolished  and  rustic  minds,  set  free  from 
the  darkness  of  sin,  both  to  think  what  is  human, 
and  to  understand  what  is  divine. 


4  Clericus  remarks,  "  Jocosa.  haec  est  epistola,"  but  the  fun  is 
certainly  of  a  very  ponderous  kind.  We  are,  by  no  means,  sure  of 
the  sense  in  some  parts  of  the  letter. 

1  "  crudelitati,"  which,  as  Clericus  remarks,  must  here  be 
equivalent  to  severitati. 


No  less  is  Xenocrates,  by  far  the  most  learned 
of  the  philosophers,  held  in  estimation,  who  suc- 
ceeded by  severe  exhortations  in  having  luxury 
conquered.  For  when  a  certain  Polemo,  heavy 
with  wine,  staggered  openly  out  of  a  nocturnal 
revel  at  the  time  when  his  hearers  were  flocking 
to  the  school  of  Xenocrates,  he,  too,  entered  the 
place,  and  impudently  took  his  seat  among  the 
crowd  of  disciples,  in  that  dress  in  which  he  had 
come  forth  from  the  banquet.  A  chaplet  of 
flowers  covered  his  head,  and  yet  he  did  not 
feel  ashamed  that  he  would  seem  unlike  all  the 
others,  because,  in  truth,  indulgence  in  a  long 
drinking-bout  had  upset  his  brains,  which  are 
the  seat  of  reason.  As  the  rest  of  those  there 
present  began  to  murmur  grievously,  because  so 
unsuitable  a  hearer  had  found  his  way  in  among 
a  multitude  of  men  of  letters,  the  master  him- 
self was  not  in  the  slightest  degree  disturbed, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  began  to  discourse  on  the 
science  of  morals,  and  the  laws  of  moderation. 
And  so  powerful  proved  the  influence  of  the 
teacher  that  the  mind  of  that  impudent  intruder 
was  persuaded  to  the  love  of  modesty.  First  of 
all,  then,  Polemo,  in  utter  confusion,  took  off 
the  chaplet  from  his  head,  and  professed  himself 
a  disciple.  And  in  course  of  time  he  con- 
formed himself  so  thoroughly  to  the  duties  im- 
plied in  dignity,  and  surrendered  himself  so 
entirely  to  the  exhibition  of  modesty,  that  a. 
glorious  amendment  of  character  threw  a  cloak 
over  the  habits  of  his  former  life.  Now  we 
admire  this  very  thing  in  your  instructions,  that, 
without  the  use  of  any  threats,  and  without 
having  recourse  to  terrors  of  any  kind,  you  have 
turned  infatuated  minds  to  the  worship  of  God  ; 
so  that  even  a  badly  ordered  intellect  should 
believe  it  preferable 2  to  live  well  and  happily 
with  all,  rather  than  to  hold  unrighteous  opinions 
with  a  few. 


LETTER    V. 

TO     AN    UNKNOWN     PERSON,    ENTREATING     HIM     TO 
DEAL    GENTLY    WITH    HIS    BROTHER. 

Although  my  lord  and  brother  has  already 
begged  of  your  nobleness  that  you  would  see 
that  Tutus  should  be  most1  safe,  yet  it  has  been 
allowed  to  me  to  commend  the  same  person  in 
a  letter,  in  order  that,  by  the  petition  being 
doubled,  he  may  be  held  all  the  safer.  For  let 
it  be  granted  that  a  youthful  fault  and  error  of  a 
yet  unsettled  age  has  injured  him,  so  as  to  in- 
flict a  stain  on  his  early  years  ;  still  one,  who  did 
not  yet  know  what  was  due   to  right   conduct, 


2  "  rectissimum,"  where  rectius  might  have  been  expected. 
1  There  is  a  play  upon  the  words  —  "  Tutum  esse  tutissimum.' 


LETTERS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS  (Doubtful). 


69 


has  gone  wrong  almost  without  contracting 
blame.  For  when  he  came  to  a  right  state  of 
mind  and  to  reflection,  he  understood  on  better 
thoughts  that  a  theatrical  life  was  to  be  con- 
demned. However,  he  could  not  be  completely 
cleared  of  his  fault,  unless  he  should  wash  its 
guilt  away  by  the  aid 2  of  Deity,  since,  by  the 
remedy  obtained  through  the  Catholic  religion, 
changing  his  views,  he  has  denied  himself  the 
enjoyment  of  a  less  honorable  place,  and  has 
withdrawn  himself  from  the  eyes  of  the  people. 

OF   THE    MASTER   AS   ABOVE.3 

Since,  therefore,  both  divine  and  state  laws 
do  not  permit  a  faithful  body  and  sanctified 
minds  to  exhibit  disgraceful  though  pleasing 
spectacles,  and  to  set  forth  vulgar  means  of  en- 
joyment, especially  since  an  injury  seems  in 
some  degree  to  accrue  to  the  chaste  dedication 
of  one's  self,  in  case  any  one  who  has  been  re- 
newed by  holy  baptism  should  fall  back  upon 
his  old  licentiousness,  it  behooves  your  Excel- 
lency to  show  favor  to  good  intentions,  so  that 
he  who,  by  the  goodness  of  God,  has  entered  on 
a  pious  duty,  should  not  be  forced  to  sink  into 
the  pitfall  of  the  theatre.  He  does  not,  how- 
ever, refuse  compliance  with  the  judgment  of 
you  all,  if  you  enjoin  other  fitting  actions  on  his 
part  in  behalf  of  the  requirements  of  our  com- 
mon country.4 


LETTER   VI. 

TO  SALVIUS  :  A  COMPLAINT  THAT  THE  COUNTRY 
PEOPLE  WERE  HARASSED,  AND  THEIR  POSSES- 
SIONS  PLUNDERED. 

Forensic  excitement  ought  to  be  at  full  heat 
during  the  time  of  business  in  the  law-courts  ;  for 
it  is  fitting  that  the  arms  of  industry,  as  it  strug- 
gles daily,  should  display  energetic  movements. 
But  when  loud-toned  eloquence  has  sounded 
a  retreat,  and  has  retired  to  peaceful  groves 
and  pleasant  dwelling-places,  it  is  right  that  one 
lay  aside  idle  murmurs,  and  cease  to  utter 
ineffectual  threats.  For  we  know  that  palm- 
bearing  steeds,  when  they  have  retired  from  the 
circus,  rest  with  the  utmost  quietness  in  their 
stables.  Neither  constant  fear  nor  doubtful 
palms  of  victory  distress  them,  but  at  length, 
haltered  to  the  peaceful  cribs,  they  now  no 
longer  stand  in  awe  of  the  master  urging  them 
on,  enjoying  sweet  oblivion  of  the  restless  rivalry 


2  "  divinitatis  accessu  ":   the  context  is  almost  unintelligible. 

3  This  probably  denotes  that  what  follows  is  the  substance  of 
the  Master's  petition. 

1  Clericus,  while  accepting  most  of  the  letters  with  which  we  are 
now  dealing,  doubts,  from  the  difference  of  style,  whether  this  is 
an  epistle  of  Sulpitius.  It  is  certainly  very  different  from  his  usual 
clearness  and  correctness. 


which  had  prevailed.  In  like  manner,  let  it 
delight  the  boastful  soldier  after  his  term  of  ser- 
vice is  completed,  to  hang  up  his  trophies,  and 
patiently  to  bear  the  burden  of  age. 

But  I  do  not  quite  understand  why  you  should 
take  a  delight  in  terrifying  miserable  husband- 
men ;  and  I  do  not  comprehend  why  you  wish 
to  harass  my  rustics  with  the  fear  of  want  of 
sustenance  ; :  as  if,  indeed,  I  did  not  know  how 
to  console  them,  and  to  deliver  them  from  fear, 
and  to  show  them  that  there  is  not  so  great  a 
reason  to  fear  as  you  pretend.  I  confess  that, 
while  we  were  occupied  in  the  plain,  I  was  often 
frightened  by  the  arms  of  your  eloquence,  but 
frequently  I  returned  you  corresponding  blows, 
as  far  as  I  was  able.  I  certainly  learned  along 
with  you,  by  what  right,  and  in  what  order,  the 
husbandmen  are  demanded  back,  to  whom  a 
legal  process  is  competent,  and  to  whom  the 
issue  of  a  process  is  not  competent.  You  say 
that  the  Volusians  wished  you  brought  back,  and 
frequently,  in  your  wrath,  you  repeat  that  you 
will  withdraw  the  country  people  from  my  little 
keep ;  and  you,  the  very  man,  as  I  hope  and 
desire,  bound  to  me  by  the  ties  of  old  rela- 
tionship, now  rashly  threaten  that,  casting  our 
agreement  to  the  winds,  you  will  lay  hold  upon 
my  men.  I  ask  of  your  illustrious  knowledge, 
whether  there  is  one  law  for  advocates,  and  an- 
other for  private  persons,  whether  one  thing  is 
just  at  Rome,  and  quite  another  thing  at  Mat- 
arum. 

In  the  meantime,  I  do  not  know  that  you 
were  ever  lord  of  the  Volusian  property,  since 
Dionysius  is  said  to  have  preserved  the  jight  of 
possession  to  it,  and  he  never  wanted  heirs ; 
who,  while  he  lived,  was  accustomed  to  hurl 
the  envenomed  jibes  of  his  low  language  upon 
a  multitude  of  individuals.2  There  was,  at  that 
time,  one  Porphyrius,  the  son  of  Zibberinus,  and 
yet  he  was  not  properly  named  the  son  of  Zib- 
berinus. He  kept  hidden,  by  military  service, 
the  question  as  to  his  birth,  and,  that  he  might 
dispel  the  cloud  from  his  forehead,  he  took 
part  in  officious  services  and  willing  acts  of 
submission.  He  was  much  with  me  both  at 
home  and  in  the  forum,  having  often  employed 
me  as  his  defender  with  my  father,  and  as  his 
advocate  before  the  judge.  Sometimes  I  even 
kept  back  Dionysius,  feeling  that  he  ought  not, 
for  the  sake  of  twenty  acres  to  discharge  vulgar 
abuse  upon  Porphyrius. 

See,  here  is  the  reason  why  thy  remarkable 
prudence  threatened  my  agents,  so  that,  though 
you  are  not  the  owner  of  the  place,  you  every- 
where make  mention  of  my  husbandmen. 
But  if  you  give  yourself  out  as  the  successor 
of  Porphyrius,  you  must  know  that  the  narrow 


1  "  exhibitionis  formidine  "  —  a  strange  phrase. 

2  The  text  is  uncertain,  and  the  meaning  very  obscure. 


7o 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


space  of  twenty  acres  cannot  certainly  be  man- 
aged by  one  cultivator,  or,  if  mindful  of  your 
proper  dignity  and  determined  to  maintain  it, 
you  shrink  from  naming  yourself  the  heir  of 
Porphyrius,  it  is  certain  and  obvious  that  he  can 
commence  proceedings,3  to  whom  the  right  of 
doing  so  belongs,  so  as  to  go  to  law  with  those 
who  have  no  property  in  that  land.  But  if  you 
diligently  look  into  the  matter,  you  will  see  that 
the  endeavor  to  recover  it  most  especially  de- 
volves on  rne.  Wherefore,  my  much  esteemed 
lord  and  brother,  it  behooves  you  to  be  at  peace, 
and  to  return  to  friendship  with  me,  while  you 
condescend  to  come  to  a  private  conference. 
Cease,  I  pray  you,  to  disturb  inactive  and 
easily  frightened  persons,  and  utter  your  boastful 
words  at  a  distance.  Believe  me,  however,  that 
I  am  delighted  with  your  high  spirit,  and  by  no 
means  offended ;  for  we  are  neither  of  a  harsh 

3  "  posse  proponere." 

4  We  thoroughly  agree  with  Clericus  that  this  letter  is,  in  style, 
more  alien  even  than  the  preceding  from  the  genuine  epistles  of 
Sulpitius.  It  is  barbarous  as  regards  composition,  and  in  several 
places  not  intelligible. 


disposition,  nor  destitute  of  learning,     Let  Max- 
imums at  least  render  you  gentle.4 


LETTER    VII. 

TO  AN  UNKNOWN  PERSON,  BEGGING  THE  FAVOR 
OF  A  LETTER. 

The  faith  and  piety  of  souls,  no  doubt,  re- 
main, but  this  should  be  made  known  by  the 
evidence  of  a  letter,  in  order  that  an  increase  of 
affection  may  be  gained '  by  such  mutual  cour- 
tesy. For  just  as  a  fertile  field  cannot  bring 
forth  abundant  fruits,  if  its  cultivation  has  been 
neglected,  and  the  good  qualities  of  soil  are  lost 
through  the  indolence  of  one  who  rests,  instead 
of  working,  so  I  think  that  the  love  and  kindly 
feelings  of  the  mind  grow  feeble,  unless  those 
who  are  absent  are  visited,  as  if  present,  by 
means  of  a  letter.1 

1  Most  editions  add  "  Deo  gratias,  Amen." 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY   OF   SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


o>3<c 


BOOK    I. 

CHAPTER    I. 

I  address  myself  to  give  a  condensed  account 
of  those  things  which  are  set  forth  in  the  sacred 
Scriptures  from  the  beginning  of  the  world, 
and  to  tell  of  them,  with  distinction  of  dates, 
and  according  to1  their  importance,  down  to  a 
period  within  our  own  remembrance.  Many 
who  were  anxious  to  become  acquainted  with 
divine  things  by  means  of  a  compendious  treat- 
ise, have  eagerly  entreated  me  to  undertake  this 
work.  I,  seeking  to  carry  out  their  wish,  have 
not  spared  my  labor,  and  have  thus  succeeded 
in  comprising  in  two  short  books  things  which 
elsewhere  filled  many  volumes.  At  the  same 
time,  in  studying  brevity,  I  have  omitted  hardly 
any  of  the  facts.  Moreover,  it  seemed  to  me 
not  out  of  place  that,  after  I  had  run  through 
the  sacred  history  down  to  the  crucifixion  of 
Christ,  and  the  doings  of  the  Apostles,  I  should 
add  an  account  of  events  which  subsequently 
took  place.  I  am,  therefore,  to  tell  of  the  de- 
struction of  Jerusalem,  the  persecutions  of  the 
Christian  people,  the  times  of  peace  which  fol- 
lowed, and  of  all  things  again  thrown  into  con- 
fusion by  the  intestine  dangers  of  the  churches. 
But  I  will  not  shrink  from  confessing  that,  wher- 
ever reason  required,  I  have  made  use  of  pro- 
fane historians  to  fix  dates  and  preserve  the 
series  of  events  unbroken,  and  have  taken  out 
of  these  what  was  wanting  to  a  complete  knowl- 
edge of  the  facts,  that  I  might  both  instruct  the 
ignorant  and  carry  conviction  to  the  learned. 
Nevertheless,  as  to  those  things  which  I  have 
condensed  from  the  sacred  books,  I  do  not  wish 
so  to  present  myself  as  an  author  to  my  readers, 
that  they,  neglecting  the  source  from  which  my 
materials  have  been  derived,  should  be  satisfied 
with  what  I  have  written.  My  aim  is  that  one 
who  is  already  familiar  with  the  original  should 
recognize  here  what  he  has  read  there  ;  for  all 
the  mysteries  of  divine  things  cannot  be  brought 
out  except  from  the  fountain-head  itself.  I 
shall  now  enter  upon  my  narrative. 


1_"  carptim  " :  such  seems  to  be  the  meaning  of  the  word  here, 
as  Sigonius  has  noted.  His  words  are  "  Carptim  —  profecto  innuit 
se  non  singulas  res  eodem  modo  persecuturum,  sed  quse  memoratu 
digniores  visa?  fuerint,  selecturum." 


CHAPTER   II. 

The  world  was  created  by  God  nearly  six1 
thousand  years  ago,  as  we  shall  set  forth  in  the 
course  of  this  book ;  although  those  who  have 
entered  upon  and  published  a  calculation  of  the 
dates,  but  little  agree  among  themselves.  As, 
however,  this  disagreement  is  due  either  to  the 
will  of  God  or  to  the  fault  of  antiquity,  it  ought 
not  to  be  a  matter  of  censure.  After  the  forma- 
tion of  the  world  man  was  created,  the  male 
being  named  Adam,  and  the  female  Eve.  Hav- 
ing been  placed  in  Paradise,  they  ate  of  the  tree 
from  which  they  were  interdicted,  and  therefore 
were  cast  forth  as  exiles  into  our  earth.2  To 
them  were  born  Cain  and  Abel ;  but  Cain,  being 
an  impious  man,  slew  his  brother.  He  had  a 
son  called  Enoch,  by  whom  a  city  was  first 
built,8  and  was  called  after  the  name  of  its 
founder.  From  him  Irad,  and  from  him  again 
Maiiiahel  was  descended.  He  had  a  son  called 
Mathusalam,  and  he,  in  turn,  begat  Lamech,  by 
whom  a  young  man  is  said  to  have  been  slain, 
without,  however,  the  name  of  the  slain  man 
being  mentioned  —  a  fact  which  is  thought  by  the 
wise  to  have  presaged  a  future  mystery.  Adam, 
then,  after  the  death  of  his  younger  son,  begat 
another  son  called  Seth,  when  he  was  now  two 
hundred  and  thirty  years  old  :  he  lived  alto- 
gether eight  hundred  and  thirty  years.  Seth 
begat  Enos,  Enos  Cainan,  Cainan  Malaleel,  Ma- 
laleel  Jared,  and  Jared  Enoch,  who  on  account 
of  his  righteousness  is  said  to  have  been  trans- 
lated by  God.  His  son  was  called  Mathusalam 
who  begat  Lamech ;  from  whom  Noah  was  de- 
scended, remarkable  for  his  righteousness,  and 
above  all  other  mortals  dear  and  acceptable  to 
God.  When  by  this  time  the  human  race  had 
increased  to  a  great  multitude,  certain  angels, 
whose  habitation  was  in  heaven,  were  captivated 
by  the  appearance  of  some  beautiful  virgins,  and 
cherished  illicit  desires  after  them,  so  much  so, 
that  falling  beneath  their  own  proper  nature  and 
origin,  they  left  the  higher  regions  of  which  they 


1  Sulpitius  follows  the  Greek  version,  which  ascribes  many  more 
years  to  the  fathers  of  mankind  than  does  the  original  Hebrew. 

2  Many  of  the  ancients  (among  whom  our  author  is  apparently 
to  be  reckoned)  believed  that  Paradise  was  situated  outside  our 
world  altogether. 

3  An  obvious  mistake.  The  first  city  was  built,  not  by  Enoch, 
but  by  Cain.     Gen.  iv.  17. 


72 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


were  inhabitants,  and  allied  themselves  in  earthly 
marriages.  These  angels  gradually  spreading 
wicked  habits,  corrupted  the  human  family,  and 
from  their  alliance  giants  are  said  to  have 
sprung,  for  the  mixture  with  them  of  beings  of 
a  different  nature,  as  a  matter  of  course,  gave 
birth  to  monsters. 


CHAPTER   III. 

God  being  offended  by  these  things,  and  es- 
pecially by  the  wickedness  of  mankind,  which 
had  gone  beyond  measure,  had  determined  to 
destroy  the  whole  human  race.  But  he  ex- 
empted Noah,  a  righteous  man  and  of  blameless 
life,  from  the  destined  doom.  He  being  warned 
by  God  that  a  flood  was  coming  upon  the  earth, 
built  an  ark  of  wood  of  immense  size,  and 
covered  it  with  pitch  so  as  to  render  it  im- 
pervious to  water.  He  was  shut  into  it  along 
with  his  wife,  and  his  three  sons  and  his  three 
daughters-in-law.  Pairs  of  birds  also  and  of 
the  different  kinds  of  beasts  were  likewise  re- 
ceived into  it,  while  all  the  rest  were  cut  off  by  a 
flood.  Noah  then,  when  he  understood  that  the 
violence  of  the  rain  had  ceased,  and  that  the 
ark  was  quietly  floating  on  the  deep,  thinking 
(as  really  was  the  case)  that  the  waters  were 
decreasing,  sent  forth  first  a  raven  for  the  pur- 
pose of  enquiring  into  the  matter,  and  on  its 
not  returning,  having  settled,  as  I  conjecture,  on 
the  dead  bodies,  he  then  sent  forth  a  dove. 
It,  not  finding  a  place  of  rest,  returned  to  him, 
and  being  again  sent  out,  it  brought  back  an 
olive  leaf,  in  manifest  proof  that  the  tops  of  the 
trees  were  now  to  be  seen.  Then  being  sent 
forth  a  third  time,  it  returned  no  more,  from 
which  it  was  understood  that  the  waters  had 
subsided ;  and  Noah  accordingly  went  out  from 
the  ark.  This  was  done,  as  I  reckon,  two  thou- 
sand two  hundred *  and  forty-two  years  after 
the  beginning  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Then  Noah  first  of  all  erected  an  altar  to 
God,  and  offered  sacrifices  from  among  the 
birds.1  Immediately  afterwards  he  was  blessed 
by  God  along  with  his  sons,  and  received  a 
command  that  he  should  not  eat  blood,  or  shed 
the  blood  of  any  human  being,  because  Cain, 
having  no  such  precept,  had  stained  the  first 
age  of  the  world.  Accordingly,  the  sons  of 
Noah  were  alone  left  in  the  then  vacant  world  ; 
for  he  had  three.  Shem,  Ham,  and  Japhet.  But 
Ham,  because  he  had  mocked  his  father  when 

1  After  the  LXX,  as  usual. 

1  Not  of  birds  only,  but  other  animals  also.     Gen.  viii.  20. 


senseless  with  wine,  incurred  his  father's  curse. 
His  son,  Chas  by  name,  begat  the  giant  Neb- 
roth,2  by  whom  the  city  of  Babylon  is  said  to 
have  been  built.  Many  other  towns  are  related 
to  have  been  founded  at  that  time,  which  I  do 
not  here  intend  to  name  one  by  one.  But 
although  the  human  race  was  now  multiplied, 
and  men  occupied  different  places  and  islands, 
nevertheless  all  made  use  of  one  tongue,  as  long 
as  the  multitude,  afterwards  to  be  scattered 
through  the  whole  world,  kept  itself  in  one 
body.  These,  after  the  manner  of  human  na- 
ture, formed  the  design  of  obtaining  a  great 
name  by  constructing  some  great  work  before 
they  should  be  separated  from  one  another. 
They  therefore  attempted  to  build  a  tower 
which  should  reach  up  to  heaven.  But  by  the 
ordination  of  God,  in  order  that  the  labors  of 
those  engaged  in  the  work  might  be  hindered, 
they  began  to  speak  in  a  kind  of  languages  very 
different  from  their  accustomed  form  of  speech, 
while  no  one  understood  the  others.  This  led 
to  their  being  all  the  more  readily  dispersed, 
because,  regarding  each  other  as  foreigners,  they 
were  easily  induced  to  separate.  And  the  world 
was  so  divided  to  the  sons  of  Noah,  that  Shem 
occupied  the  East,  Japhet  the  West,  and  Ham 
the  intermediate  parts.  After  this,  till  the  time 
of  Abraham,3  their  genealogy  presented  nothing 
very  remarkable  or  worthy  of  record. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Abraham,  whose  father  was  Thara,  was  born  in 
the  one  thousand  and  seventeenth  year  after  the 
deluge.  His  wife  was  called  Sara,  and  his  dwel- 
ling-place was  at  first  in  the  country 1  of  the  Chal- 
daeans.  He  then  dwelt  along  with  his  father  at 
Chame.  Being  at  this  time  spoken  to  by  God, 
he  left  his  country  and  his  father,  and  taking 
with  him  Lot,  the  son  of  his  brother,  he  came 
into  the  country  of  the  Canaanites,  and  settled 
at  a  place  named  Sychem.  Ere  long,  owing  to 
the  want  of  corn,  he  went  into  Egypt,  and  again 
returned.  Lot,  owing  to  the  size  of  the  house- 
hold, parted  from  his  uncle,  that  he  might  take 
advantage  of  more  spacious  territories  in  what 
was  then  a  vacant  region,  and  settled  at  Sodom. 
That  town  was  infamous  on  account  of  its  in- 
habitants, males  forcing  themselves  upon  males, 
and  it  is  said  on  that  account  to  have  been  hate- 
ful to  God.  At  that  period  the  kings  of  the 
neighboring  peoples  were  in  arms,  though  pre- 
viously   there    had    been  no 2  Avar  among  man- 


2  This  is  the  Nim rod  of  the  A.  V.:  he  is  called  Ncbrod  by  the 
LXX.  We  have,  for  the  most  part,  given  the  proper  names  as  they 
appear  in  the  edition  of  Halm. 

3  Such  is  the  form  of  the  name  as  given  by  Halm,  though  Abram 
would  be  expected. 

1  The  LXX  has  ywoa,  instead  of  Ur. 

2  A  most  improbable  statement. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY  OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


73 


kind.  But  the  kings  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah 
and  of  the  adjacent  territories  went  forth  to 
battle  against  those  who  were  making  war  upon 
the  regions  round  about,  and  being  routed  at 
the  first  onset,  yielded  the  victory  to  the  oppo- 
site side.  Then  Sodom  was  plundered  and 
made  a  spoil  of  by  the  victorious  enemy,  while 
Lot  was  led  into  captivity.  When  Abraham 
heard  of  this,  he  speedily  armed  his  servants,  to 
the  number  of  three  hundred  and  eighteen,  and, 
stripping  of  their  spoils  and  arms  the  kings 
flushed  with  victory,  he  put  them  to  flight. 
Then  he  was  blessed  by  Melchisedech  the  priest, 
and  gave  him  tithes  of  the  spoil.  He  restored 
the  remainder  to  those  from  whom  it  had  been 
taken. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

At  the  same  time  God  spoke  to  Abraham, 
and  promised  that  his  seed  was  to  be  multiplied 
as  the  sand  of  the  sea ;  and  that  his  predicted 
seed  would  live  in  a  land  not  his  own,  while  his 
posterity  would  endure  slavery  in  a  hostile 
country  for  four  hundred  years,  but  would  after- 
wards be  restored  to  liberty.  Then  his  name 
was  changed,  as  well  as  that  of  his  wife,  by  the 
addition  of  one  letter  ;  so  that  instead  of  Abram  x 
he  was  called  Abraham,  and,  instead  of  Sara, 
she  was  called  Sarra.  The  mystery  involved  in 
this  is  by  no  means  trifling,  but  it  is  not  the  part 
of  this  work  to  treat  of  it.  At  the  same  time, 
the  law  of  circumcision  was  enjoined  on  Abra- 
ham, and  he  had  by  a  maid-servant  a  son  called 
Ishmael.  Moreover,  when  he  himself  was  a 
hundred  years  old,  and  his  wife  ninety,  God 
promised  that  they  should  have  a  son  Isaac,  the 
Lord  having  come  to  him  along  with  two  angels. 
Then  the  angels  being  sent  to  Sodom,  found  Lot 
sitting  in  the  gate  of  the  city.  He  supposed 
them  to  be  human  beings,  and  welcomed  them 
to  share  in  his  hospitality,  and  provided  an  en- 
tertainment for  them  in  his  house,  but  the  wicked 
youth  of  the  town  demanded  the  new  arrivals 
for  impure  purposes.  Lot  offered  them  his 
daughters  in  place  of  his  guests,  but  they  did 
not  accept  the  offer,  having  a  desire  rather  for 
things  forbidden,  and  then  Lot  himself  was  laid 
hold  of  with  vile  designs.  The  angels,  however, 
speedily  rescued  him  from  danger,  by  causing 
blindness  to  fall  upon  the  eyes  of  these  unchaste 
sinners.  Then  Lot,  being  informed  by  his  guests 
that  the  town  was  to  be  destroyed,  went  away 
from  it  with  his  wife  and  daughters ;  but  they 
were  commanded  not  to  look  back  upon  it. 
His  wife,  however,  not  obeying  this  precept  (in 
accordance  with  that  evil  tendency  of  human 
nature  which  renders  it  difficult  to  abstain  from 


1  In  the  Greek  of  the  LXX.  the  name  appears  as  Abraat 
that,  as  our  author  says,  there  is  only  a  change  of  one  letter. 


things  forbidden),  turned  back  her  eyes,  and  is 
said  to  have  been  at  once  changed  into  a  monu- 
ment. As  for  Sodom,  it  was  burned  to  ashes 
by  fire  from  heaven.  And  the  daughters  of 
Lot,  imagining  that  the  whole  human  race  had 
perished,  sought  a  union  with  their  father  while 
he  was  intoxicated,  and  hence  sprung  the  race 
of  Moab  and  Ammon. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Almost  at  the  same  time,  when  Abraham  was 
now  a  hundred  years  old,  his  son  Isaac  was  born. 
Then  Sara  expelled  the  maid-servant  by  whom 
Abraham  had  had  a  son ;  and  she  is  said  to 
have  dwelt  in  the  desert  along  with  her  son,  and 
defended  by  the  help  of  God.  Not  long  after 
this,  God  tried  the  faith  of  Abraham,  and  required 
that  his  son  Isaac  should  be  sacrificed  to  him 
by  his  father.  Abraham  did  not  hesitate  to 
offer  him,  and  had  already  laid  the  lad  upon 
the  altar,  and  was  drawing  the  sword  to  slay 
him,  when  a  voice  came  from  heaven  command- 
ing him  to  spare  the  young  man  ;  and  a  ram 
was  found  at  hand  to  be  for  a  victim.  When 
the  sacrifice  was  offered,  God  spoke  to  Abraham, 
and  promised  him  those  things  which  he  had 
already  said  he  would  bestow.  But  Sara  died 
in  her  one  hundred  and  twenty-seventh  year, 
and  her  body  was,  through  the  care  of  her  hus- 
band, buried  in  Hebron,  a  town  of  the  Canaanites, 
for  Abraham  was  staying  in  that  place.  Then 
Abraham,  seeing  that  his  son  Isaac  was  now  of 
youthful  *  age,  for  he  was,  in  fact,  in  his  fortieth 
year,  enjoined  his  servant  to  seek  a  wife  for 
him,  but  only  from  that  tribe  and  territory  from 
which  he  himself  was  known  to  be  descended. 
He  was  instructed,  however,  on  finding  the  girl, 
to  bring  her  into  the  land  of  the  Canaanites,  and 
not  to  suppose  that  Isaac  would  return  into  the 
country  of  his  father  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
a  wife.  In  order  that  the  servant  might  carry 
out  those  instructions  zealously,  Abraham  ad- 
ministered an  oath  to  him,  while  his  hand  rested 
on  the  thigh  of  his  master.  The  servant  accord- 
ingly set  out  for  Mesopotamia,  and  came  to  the 
town  of  Nachor,  the  brother  of  Abraham.  He 
entered  into  the  house  of  Bathuel,  the  Syrian, 
son  of  Nachor ;  and  having  seen  Rebecca,  a 
beautiful  virgin,  the  daughter  of  Nachor,  he 
asked  for  her,  and  brought  her  to  his  master. 
After  this,  Abraham  took  a  wife  named  Kethurah, 
who  is  called  in  the  Chronicles  his  concubine, 
and  begat  children  by  her.  But  he  left  his 
possessions  to  Isaac,  the  son  of  Sara,  while,  at 
the  same  time,  he  distributed  gifts  to  those 
whom  he  had  begotten  by  his  concubines ;  and 
thus  they  were  separated  from  Isaac.     Abraham 


1  "juvenilis  Ktatis":    the  meaning  is  that  he  had  ceased  to  be 
mere  adolesccns,  and  had  reached  she  flower  of  his  age. 


74 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


died  after  a  life  of  a  hundred  and  seventy-five 
years  ;  and  his  body  was  laid  in  the  tomb  of 
Sara  his  wife. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Now,  Rebecca,  having  long  been  barren,  at 
length,  through  the  unceasing  prayers  of  her 
husband  to  the  Lord,  brought  forth  twins  about 
twenty  years  after  the  time  of  her  marriage. 
These  are  said  to  have  often  leaped 1  in  the 
womb  of  their  mother ;  and  it  was  announced 
by  the  answer  of  the  Lord  on  this  subject,  that 
two  peoples  were  foretold  in  these  children,  and 
that  the  elder  would,  in  rank,  be  inferior  to  the 
younger.  Well,  the  first  that  was  born,  bristling 
over  with  hair,  was  called  Esau,  while  Jacob  was 
the  name  given  to  the  younger.  At  that  time,  a 
grievous  famine  had  taken  place.  Under  the 
pressure  of  this  necessity,  Isaac  went  to  Gerar, 
to  King  Abimelech,  having  been  warned  by  the 
Lord  not  to  go  down  into  Egypt.  There  he  is 
promised  the  possession  of  the  whole  land,  and 
is  blessed,  and  having  been  greatly  increased 
in  cattle  and  every  kind  of  substance,  he  is, 
under  the  influence  of  envy,  driven  out  by  the 
inhabitants.  Thus  expelled  from  that  region,  he 
sojourned  by  the  well,  known  as  "  the  well 2  of 
the  oath."  By  and  by,  being  advanced  in  years, 
and  his  eyesight  being  gone,  as  he  made  ready 
to  bless  his  son  Esau,  Jacob  through  the  coun- 
sel of  his  mother,  Rebecca,  presented  himself 
to  be  blessed  in  the  place  of  his  brother.  Thus 
Jacob  is  set  before  his  brother  as  the  one  to  be 
honored  by  the  princes  and  the  peoples.  Esau, 
enraged  by  these  occurrences,  plotted  the  death 
of  his  brother.  Jacob,  owing  to  the  fear  thus 
excited,  and  by  the  advice  of  his  mother,  fled 
into  Mesopotamia,  having  been  urged  by  his 
father  to  take  a  wife  of  the  house  of  Laban, 
Rebecca's  brother:  so  great  was  their,  care, 
while  they  dwelt  in  a  strange  country,  that  their 
children  should  marry  within  their  own  kindred. 
Thus  Jacob,  setting  out  for  Mesopotamia,  is  said 
in  sleep  to  have  had  a  vision  of  the  Lord  ;  and 
on  that  account  regarding  the  place  of  his  dream 
as  sacred,  he  took  a  stone  from  it ;  and  he 
vowed  that,  if  he  returned  in  prosperity,  the 
name  3  of  the  pillar  should  be  the  "  house  of  the 
Lord,"  and  that  he  would  devote  to  God  the 
tithes  of  all  the  possessions  he  had  gained. 
Then  he  betook  himself  to  Laban,  his  mother's 
brother,  and  was  kindly  received  by  him  to 
share  in  his  hospitality  as  the  acknowledged  son 
of  his  sister. 

i  So  in  LXX. 

2  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  Hebrew  word,  Brersheha. 

3  "  Titulum  sibi  domus  Dei  futurum":  the  rendering  of  the 
Hebrew  original  is  here  obviously  faulty,  and  the  words,  as  they 
stand,  are  scarcely  intelligible. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Laban  had  two  daughters,  Leah  and  Rachel ; 
but  Leah  had  tender  eyes,  while  Rachel  is  said 
to  have  been  beautiful.  Jacob,  captivated  by 
her  beauty,  burned  with  love  for  the  virgin,  and, 
asking  her  in  marriage  from  the  father,  gave 
himself  up  to  a  servitude  of  seven  years.  But 
when  the  time  was  fulfilled,  Leah  was  foisted 
upon  him,  and  he  was  subjected  to  another 
servitude  of  seven  years,  after  which  Rachel  was 
given  him.  But  we  are  told  that  she  was  long 
barren,  while  Leah  was  fruitful.  Of  the  sons 
whom  Jacob  had  by  Leah,  the  following  are  the 
names  :  Reuben,  Symeon,  Levi,  Judah,  Issachar, 
Zebulon,  and  a  daughter  Dinah ;  while  there 
were  born  to  him  by  the  handmaid  of  Leah, 
Gad  and  Asher,  and  by  the  handmaid  of  Rachel, 
Dan  and  Naphtali.  But  Rachel,  after  she  had 
despaired  of  offspring,  bare  Joseph.  Then 
Jacob,  being  desirous  of  returning  to  his  father, 
when  Laban  his  father-in-law  had  given  him  a 
portion  of  the  flock  as  a  reward  for  his  service,  and 
Jacob  the  son-in-law,  thinking  him  not  to  be  act- 
ing justly  in  that  matter,  while  he  [also]  suspected 
deceit  on  his  part,  privately  departed  about  the 
thirtieth  year  after  his  arrival.  Rachel,  without 
the  knowledge  of  her  husband,  stole  the  idols :  of 
her  father,  and  on  account  of  this  injury  Laban 
followed  his  son-in-law,  but  not  finding  his  idols, 
returned,  after  being  reconciled,  having  straitly 
charged  his  son-in-law  not  to  take  other  wives 
in  addition  to  his  daughters.  Then  Jacob,  going 
on  his  way,  is  said  to  have  had  a  vision  of  angels 
and  of  the  army2  of  the  Lord.  But,  as  he 
directed  his  journey  past  the  region  of  Edom, 
which  his  brother  Esau  inhabited,  suspecting 
the  temper  of  Esau,  he  first  sent  messengers  and 
gifts  to  try  him.  Then  he  went  to  meet  his 
brother,  but  Jacob  took  care  not  to  trust  him 
beyond  what  he  could  help.  On  the  day  before 
the  brothers  were  to  meet,  God,  taking  a  human 
form,  is  said  to  have  wrestled  with  Jacob.  And 
when  he  had  prevailed  with  God,  still  he  was 
not  ignorant  that  his  adversary  was  no  mere 
mortal ;  and  therefore  begged  to  be  blessed  by 
him.  Then  his  name  was  changed  by  God,  so 
that  from  Jacob  he  was  called  Israel.  But 
when  he,  in  turn,  inquired  of  God  the  name  of 
God,  he  was  told  that  that  should  not  be  asked 
after  because  it  was  wonderful.3  Moreover,  from 
that  wrestling,  the  breadth4  of  Jacob's  thigh 
shrank. 


1  eiSwAo.  is  the  Septuagint  rendering  of  the  Hebrew  Terafihim. 
Perhaps  the  original  word  should  simply  be  transliterated  into 
English  as  has  been  done  in  the  Revised  Version. 

-  The  rendering  of  the  LXX. 

3  "  Admirabile." 

4  "  Latitudo":  Vorstius  says  this  refers  to  the  broad  bone,  or 
broad  nerve  of  the  thigh. 


THE    SACRED  HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


75 


CHAPTER   X. 

Israel,  therefore,  avoiding  the  house  of  his 
brother,  sent  forward  his  company  to  Salem,  a 
town  of  the  Shechemites,  and  there  he  pitched 
his  tent  on  a  spot  which  he  had  purchased. 
Emor,  a  Chorrsean  prince,  was  the  ruler  of  that 
town.  His  son  Sychem  defiled  Dinah,  the 
daughter  of  Jacob  by  Leah.  Symeon  and  Levi, 
the  brothers  of  Dinah,  discovering  this,  cut  off 
by  a  stratagem  all  those  of  the  male  sex  in  the 
town,  and  thus  terribly  avenged  the  injury  done 
to  their  sister.  The  town  was  plundered  by  the 
sons  of  Jacob,  and  all  the  spoil  carried  off. 
Jacob  is  said  to  have  been  much  displeased  with 
these  proceedings.  Soon  after  being  instructed 
by  God,  he  went  to  Bethel,  and  there  erected 
an  altar  to  God.  Then  he  fixed  his  tent  in  a 
part  of  the  territory  belonging  to  the  tower1 
Gader.  Rachel  died  in  childbirth :  the  boy 
she  bore  was  called  Benjamin.  Israel  died  at 
the  age  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  years.  Now, 
Esau  was  mighty  in  wealth,  and  had  taken  to 
himself  wives  of  the  nation  of  the  Canaanites. 
I  do  not  think  that,  in  a  work  so  concise  as  the 
present,  I  am  called  upon  to  mention  his  de- 
scendants, and,  if  any  one  is  curious  on  the 
subject,  he  may  turn  to  the  original.  After  the 
death  of  his  father,  Jacob  stayed  on  in  the  place 
where  Isaac  had  lived.  His  other  sons  occa- 
sionally left  him  along  with  the  flocks,  for  the 
sake  of  pasturage,  but  Joseph  and  the  little 
Benjamin  remained  at  home.  Joseph  was  much 
beloved  by  his  father,  and  on  that  account  was 
hated  by  his  brethren.  There  was  this  further 
cause  for  their  aversion,  that  by  frequent  dreams 
of  his  it  seemed  to  be  indicated  that  he  would 
be  greater  than  all  of  them.  Accordingly, 
having  been  sent  by  his  father  to  inspect  the 
flocks  and  pay  a  visit  to  his  brothers,  there 
seemed  to  them  a  fitting  opportunity  for  doing 
him  harm.  For,  on  seeing  their  brother,  they 
took  counsel  to  slay  him.  But  Reuben,  whose 
mind  shuddered  at  the  contemplation  of  such  a 
crime,  opposing  their  plan,  Joseph  was  let  down 
into  a  well.2  Afterwards,  by  the  persuasions  of 
Judah,  they  were  brought  to  milder  measures, 
and  sold  him  to  merchants,  who  were  on  their 
way  to  Egypt.  And  by  them  he  was  delivered 
to  Petifra,  a  governor  of  Pharaoh. 

CHAPTER   XL 

About  this  same  time,  Judah,  the  son  of  Ja- 
cob, took  in  marriage  Sava,1  a  woman  of  Canaan. 
By  her  he   had   three   sons,  —  Her,  Onan,  and 

1  "In  parte  turris  Gadir":  this  is  a  strange  rendering  of  the 
Hebrew.  The  LXX  has  "beyond  the  tower  Gader";  while  the 
Revised  English  Version  has  "  beyond  the  tower  of  Eder." 

2  "  Lacum." 

1  Called  Shuah  in  A.  V. 


Sela.  Her  was  allied  by  concubinage2  to 
Thamar.  On  his  death,  Onan  took  his  brother's 
wife  ;  and  he  is  related  to  have  been  destroyed 
by  God,  because  he  spilled  his  seed  upon  the 
earth.  Then  Thamar,  assuming  the  garb  of  a 
harlot,  united  with  her  brother-in-law,  and  bore 
him  two  sons.  But  when  she  brought  them 
forth,  there  was  this  remarkable  fact,  that,  when 
on  one  of  the  boys  being  born,  the  midwife  had 
bound  his  hand  with  a  scarlet  thread  to  indicate 
which  of  them  was  born  first,  he,  drawing  back 
again  into  the  womb  of  his  mother,  was  born  3 
the  last  boy  of  the  two.  The  names  of  Fares 
and  Zarah  were  given  to  the  children.  But 
Joseph,  being  kindly  treated  by  the  royal  gov- 
ernor who  had  obtained  him  for  a  sum  of  money, 
and  having  been  made  manager  of  his  house 
and  family,  had  drawn  the  eyes  of  his  master's 
wife  upon  himself  through  his  remarkable  beauty. 
And  as  she  was  madly  laboring  under  that  base 
passion,  she  made  advances  to  him  oftener  than 
once,  and  when  he  would  not  yield  to  her  desires, 
she  disgraced  him  by  the  imputation  of  a  false 
crime,  and  complained  to  her  husband  that  he 
had  made  an  attempt  upon  her  virtue.  Accord- 
ingly, Joseph  was  thrown  into  prison.  There 
were  ju  the  same  place  of  confinement  two  of 
the  king's  servants,  who  made  known  their 
dreams  to  Joseph,  and  he,  interpreting  these  as 
bearing  upon  the  future,  declared  that  one  of 
them  would  be  put  to  death,  and  the  other  would 
be  pardoned.  And  so  it  came  to  pass.  Well, 
after  the  lapse  of  two  years,  the  king  also  had  a 
dream.  And  when  this  could  not  be  explained 
by  the  wise  men  among  the  Egyptians,  that 
servant  of  the  king  who  was  liberated  from 
prison  informs  the  king  that  Joseph  was  a  won- 
derful interpreter  of  dreams.  Accordingly, 
Joseph  was  brought  out  of  prison,  and  interpreted 
to  the  king  his  dream,  to  this  effect,  that,  for 
the  next  seven  years,  there  would  be  the  greatest 
fertility  in  the  land  ;  but  in  those  that  followed, 
famine.  The  king  being  alarmed  by  this  terror, 
and  seeing  that  there  was  a  divine  spirit  in 
Joseph,  set  him  over  the  department  of  food- 
supply,  and  made  him  equal  with  himself  in  the 
government.  Then  Joseph,  while  corn  was 
abundant  throughout  all  Egypt,  gathered  to- 
gether an  immense  quantity,  and,  by  increasing 
the  number  of  granaries,  took  measures  against 
the  future  famine.  At  that  time,  the  hope  and 
safety  of  Egypt  were  placed  in  him  alone.  About 
the  same  period,  Aseneh  bore  him  two  sons, 
Manasseh  and  Ephraim.  He  himself,  when  he 
received  the  chief  power  from  the  king,  was 
thirty  years  old  ;  for  he  was  sold  by  his  brothers 
when  he  was  seventeen  years  of  age. 

2  Or  perhaps,  rather,  marriage  of  a  sort,  as  appears  from  what 
follows. 

3  A  different  reading  gives,  "  was  born  on  the  following  day." 


76 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

In  the  mean  time,  affairs  having  been  well 
settled  in  Egypt  to  meet  the  famine,  a  grievous 
want  of  corn  began  to  distress  the  world.  Jacob, 
constrained  by  this  necessity,  sent  his  sons  into 
Egypt,  keeping  only  Benjamin  with  himself  at 
home.  Joseph,  then,  being  at  the  head  of 
affairs,  and  having  complete  power  over  the 
corn-supplies,  his  brothers  come  to  him,  and 
pay  the  same  honor  to  him  as  to  a  king.  He, 
when  he  saw  them,  craftily  concealed  his  recog- 
nition of  them,  and  accused  them  of  having 
come  as  enemies,  subtly  to  spy  out  the  land. 
But  he  was  annoyed  that  he  did  not  see  among 
them  his  brother  Benjamin.  Matters,  then,  are 
brought  to  this  point,  that  they  promised  he 
should  be  present,  specially  that  he  might  be 
asked  whether  they  had  entered  Egypt  for  the 
purpose  of  spying  out  the  land.  In  order  to 
secure  the  fulfillment  of  this  promise,  Symeon 
was  retained  as  hostage,  while  to  them  corn  was 
given  freely.  Accordingly,  they  returned,  bring- 
ing Benjamin  with  them  as  had  been  arranged. 
Then  Joseph  made  himself  known  to  his  brothers, 
to  the  shame  of  these  evil-deservers.  Thus,  he 
sent  them  home  again,  laden  with  corn,  and 
presented  with  many  gifts,  forewarning  them 
that  there  were  still  five  years  of  famine  to  come, 
and  advising  them  to  come  down  with  their 
father,  their  children,  and  their  whole  connec- 
tions to  Egypt.  Sd  Jacob  went  down  to  Egypt, 
to  the  great  joy  of  the  Egyptians  and  of  the 
king  himself,  while  he  was  tenderly  welcomed 
by  his  son.  That  took  place  in  the  hundred 
and  thirtieth  year  of  the  life  of  Jacob,  and  one 
thousand  three  hundred  and  sixty  years  r  after 
the  deluge.  But  from  the  time  when  Abraham 
settled  in  the  land  of  the  Canaanites,  to  that 
when  Jacob  entered  Egypt,  there  are  to  be 
reckoned  two  hundred  and  fifteen  years.  After 
this,  Jacob,  in  the  seventeenth  year  of  his  resi- 
dence in  Egypt,  suffering  severely  from  illness, 
entreated  Joseph  to  see  his  remains  placed  in 
the  tomb.  Then  Joseph  presented  his  sons  to 
be  blessed  ; 2  and  when  this  had  been  done,  but 
so  that  he  set  the  younger  before  the  elder  as  to 
the  value  of  the  blessing  given,  Jacob  then  blessed 
all  his  sons  in  order.  He  died  at  the  age  of 
one  hundred  and  forty-seven  years.  His  funeral 
was  of  a  most  imposing  character,  and  Joseph 
laid  his  remains  in  the  tomb  of  his  fathers.  He 
continued  to  treat  his  brothers  with  kindness, 
although,  after  the  death  of  their  father,  they 
felt  alarmed  from  a  consciousness  of  the  wrong 
they  had  done.  Joseph  himself  died  in  his  one 
hundred  and  tenth  year. 


1  The  chronology  of  the  LXX  is,  as  usual,  here  followed. 

2_  The  original  is,  "  quibus  benedictis,  cum  tamen  benedictionis 
merito  majori  minorem  praeposuisset,  filios  omnes  benedictione  lus- 
travit." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

It  is  almost  incredible  to  relate  how  the  He- 
brews who  had  come  down  into  Egypt  so  soon 
increased  in  numbers,  and  filled  Egypt  with 
their  numerous  descendants.  But  on  the  death 
of  the  king,  who  kindly  cherished  them  on 
account  of  the  services  of  Joseph,  they  were 
kept  down  by  the  government  of  the  succeeding 
kings.  For  both  the  heavy  labor  of  building 
cities  was  laid  upon  them,  and  because  their 
abounding  numbers  were  now  feared,  lest  some 
day  they  should  secure  their  independence  by 
arms,  they  were  compelled  by  a  royal  edict  to 
drown  their  newly-born  male  children.  And  no 
permission  was  granted  to  evade  this  cruel  order. 
Well,  at  that  time,  the  daughter  of  Pharaoh 
found  an  infant  in  the  river,  and  caused  it  to  be 
brought  up  as  her  own  son,  giving  the  boy  the 
name  of  Moses.  This  Moses,  when  he  had  come 
to  manhood,  saw  a  Hebrew  being  assaulted  by 
an  Egyptian ;  and,  filled  with  sorrow  at  the 
sight,  he  delivered  his  brother  from  injury,  and 
killed  the  Egyptian  with  a  stone.  Soon  after, 
fearing  punishment  on  account  of  what  he  had 
done,  he  fled  into  the  land  of  Midian,  and, 
taking  up  his  abode  with  Jothor  the  priest  of 
that  district,  he  received  his  daughter  Sepphora 
in  marriage,  who  bore  him  two  sons,  Gersam 
and  Eliezer.  At  this  epoch  lived  Job,  who  had 
acquired  both  the  knowledge  of  God  and  all 
righteousness  simply  from  the  law1  of  nature. 
He  was  exceedingly  rich,  and  on  that  account 
all  the  more  illustrious,  because  he  was  neither 
corrupted  by  that  wealth  while  it  remained  entire, 
nor  perverted  by  it  when  it  was  lost.  For, 
when,  through  the  agency  of  the  devil,  he  was 
stripped  of  his  goods,  deprived  of  his  children, 
and  finally  covered  in  his  own  person  with  ter- 
rible boils,  he  could  not  be  broken  down,  so  as, 
from  impatience  of  his  sufferings,  in  any  way,  to 
commit  sin.  At  length  he  obtained  the  reward 
of  the  divine  approval,  and  being  restored  to 
health,  he  got  back  doubled  all  that  he  had  lost. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

But  the  Hebrews,  oppressed  by  the  multiplied 
evils  of  slavery,  directed  their  complaints  to 
heaven,  and  cherished  the  hope  of  assistance 
from  God.  Then,  as  Moses  was  feeding  his 
sheep,  suddenly  a  bush  appeared  to  him  burning, 
but,  what  was  surprising,  the  flames  did  it  no 
harm.  Astonished  at  such  an  extraordinary 
sight,  he  drew  nearer  to  the  bush,  and  immedi- 


1  This  somewhat  remarkable  statement  is  supported  by  the  text 
of  Halm,  who  reads,  "  lege  naturae."  But  other  editions  have 
"  legem  naturae,"  and  the  meaning  will  then  be  "  who  had  learned 
the  law  of  nature,  and  the  knowledge  of  God,"  &c 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


77 


ately  God  spoke  to  him  in  words  to  this  effect, 
that  he  was  the  Lord  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
Jacob,  and  that  he  desired  that  their  descendants, 
who  were  kept  down  under  the  tyranny  of  the 
Egyptians,  should  be  delivered  from  their  suffer- 
ings, and  that  he,  therefore,  should  go  to  the 
king  of  Egypt,  and  present  himself  as  a  leader 
for  restoring  them  to  liberty.  When  he  hesitated, 
God  strengthened  him  with  power,  and  imparted 
to  him  the  gift  of  working  miracles.  Thus 
Moses,  going  into  Egypt,  after  he  had  first 
performed  miracles  in  the  presence  of  his  own 
people,  and  having  associated  his  brother  Aaron 
with  him,  went  to  the  king,  declaring  that  he  had 
been  sent  by  God,  and  that  he  now  told  him  in 
the  words  of  God  to  let  the  Hebrew  people  go. 
But  the  king,  affirming  that  he  did  not  know 
the  Lord,  refused  to  obey  the  command  ad- 
dressed to  him.  And  when  Moses,  in  proof  that 
the  orders  he  issued  were  from  God,  changed 
his  rod  into  a  serpent,1  and  soon  after  converted 
all  the  water  into  blood,  while  he  filled  the 
whole  land  with  frogs,  as  the  Chaldaeans  were 
doing  similar  things,  the  king  declared  that  the 
wonders  performed  by  Moses  were  simply  due 
to  the  arts  of  magic,  and  not  to  the  power  of 
God,  until  the  land  was  covered  with  stinging 
insects  brought  over  it,  when  the  Chaldseans 
confessed  that  this  was  done  by  the  divine 
majesty.  Then  the  king,  constrained  by  his 
sufferings,  called  to  him  Moses  and  Aaron,  and 
gave  the  people  liberty  to  depart,  provided  that 
the  calamity  brought  upon  the  kingdom  were 
removed.  But,  after  the  suffering  was  put  an 
end  to,  his  mind,  having  no  control  over  itself, 
returned  to  its  former  state,  and  did  not  allow 
the  Israelites  to  depart,  as  had  been  agreed 
upon.  Finally,  however,  he  was  broken  down 
and  conquered  by  the  ten  plagues  which  were 
sent  upon  his  person  and  his  kingdom. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

But  on  the  day :  before  the  people  went  out 
of  Egypt,  being  as  yet  unacquainted  with  dates, 
they  were  instructed  by  the  command  of  God 
to  acknowledge  that  month  which  was  then 
passing  by  as  the  first  of  all  months ;  and  were 
told  that  the  sacrifice  of  the  day  was  to  be 
solemnly  and  regularly  offered  in  coming  ages, 
so  that,  on  the  fourteenth  day  of  the  month,  a 
la|^b  without  blemish,  one  year  old,  should  be 
slain  as  a  victim,  and  that  the  door-posts  should 
be  sprinkled  with  its  blood ;  that  its  flesh  was 
wholly  to  be  eaten,  but  not  a  bone  of  it  was  to 
be  broken ;  that  they  should  abstain  from  what 
was  leavened   for   seven   days,   using    only  un- 


1  "  Draconem." 

1  Such  is  Halm's  reading;  another  is  simply  "before." 


leavened  bread ;  and  that  they  should  hand 
down  the  observance  to  their  posterity.  Thus 
the  people  went  forth  rich,  both  by  their  own 
wealth,  and  still  more  by  the  spoils  of  Egypt. 
Their  number  had  grown  from  those  seventy- 
five  2  Hebrews,  who  had  first  gone  down  into 
Egypt,  to  six  hundred  thousand  men.  Now, 
there  had  elapsed  from  the  time  when  Abraham 
first  reached  the  land  of  the  Canaanites  a  period 
of  four  hundred  and  thirty  years,  but  from  the 
deluge  a  period  of  five  hundred  and  seventy- 
five3  years.  Well,  as  they  went  forth  in  haste, 
a  pillar  of  cloud  by  day,  and  a  pillar  of  fire  by 
night,  marched  before  them.  But  since,  owing 
to  the  fact  that  the  gulf  of  the  Red  Sea  lay 
between,  the  way  led  by4  the  land  of  the  Philis- 
tines, in  order  that  an  opportunity  might  not 
afterwards  be  offered  to  the  Hebrews,  shrinking 
from  the  desert,  of  returning  into  Egypt  by  a 
well-known  road  through  a  continuous  land- 
journey,  by  the  command  of  God  they  turned 
aside,  and  journeyed  towards  the  Red  Sea, 
where  they  stopped  and  pitched  their  camp. 
When  it  was  announced  to  the  king  that  the 
Hebrew  people,  through  mistaking  the  road, 
had  come  to  have  the  sea  right  before  them, 
and  that  they  had  no  means  of  escape  since  the 
deep  would  prevent  them,  vexed  and  furious 
that  so  many  thousand  men  should  escape  from 
his  kingdom  and  power,  he  hastily  led  forth  his 
army.  And  already  the  arms,  and  standards, 
and  the  lines  drawn  up  in  the  widespreading  plains 
were  visible,  when,  as  the  Hebrews  were  in  a 
state  of  terror,  and  gazing  up  to  heaven,  Moses 
being  so  instructed  by  God,  struck  the  sea  with 
his  rod,  and  divided  it.  Thus  a  road  was 
opened  to  the  people  as  on  firm  land,  the  waters 
giving  way  on  both  sides.  Nor  did  the  king  of 
Egypt  hesitate  to  follow  the  Israelites  going 
forward,  for  he  entered  the  sea  where  it  had 
opened ;  and,  as  the  waters  speedily  came 
together  again,  he,  with  all  his  host,  was  de- 
stroyed. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Then  Moses,  exulting  in  the  safety  of  his  own 
people,  and  in  the  destruction  of  the  enemy,  by 
such  a  miracle,1  sang  a  song  of  praise  to  God. 
and  the  whole  multitude,  both  of  males  and 
females,  took  part  in  it.  But,  after  they  had 
entered  the  desert,  and  advanced  a  journey  of 
three  days,  want  of  water  distressed  them  ;  and, 
when    it   was    found,   it  proved   of  no    use    on 


"  The   Hebrew   text  has  "  seventy,"  but   our  author,  as   usual, 
follows  the  LXX. 

3  Again  after  the  LXX. 

4  The  text  here  is  uncertain  and  obscure. 
1  "  Virtute." 


78 


THE   WRITINGS    OF   SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


account  of  its  bitterness.  And  then  for  the  first 
time  the  stubbornness  of  the  impatient  people 
showed  itself,  and  burst  forth  against  Moses ; 
when,  as  instructed  by  God,  he  cast  some  wood 
into  the  waters,  and  its  power  was  such  that  it 
rendered  the  taste  of  the  fluid  sweet.  Thence 
advancing,  the  multitude  found  at  Elim  twelve 
fountains  of  waters,  with  seventy  palm-trees,  and 
there  they  encamped.  Again  the  people,  com- 
plaining of  famine,  heaped  reproaches  upon 
Moses,  and  longed  for  the  slavery  of  Egypt, 
accompanied  as  it  was  with  abundance  to  please 
their  appetite,  when  a  flock  of  quails  was  di- 
vinely sent,  and  filled  the  camp.  Besides,  on 
the  following  day,  those  who  had  gone  forth 
from  the  camp  perceived  that  the  ground  was 
covered  with  a  sort  of  pods,2  the  appearance  of 
which  was  like  a  coriander-seed  of  snowy  white- 
ness, as  we  often  see  the  earth  in  the  winter 
months  covered  with  the  hoar-frost  that  has 
been  spread  over  it.  Then  the  people  were 
informed,  through  Moses,  that  this  bread  had 
been  sent  them  by  the  gift  of  God  ;  that  every 
one  should  gather  in  vessels  prepared  for  the 
purpose  only  so  much  of  it  as  would  be  sufficient 
for  each,  according  to  their  number,  during  one 
day ;  but  that  on  the  sixth  day  they  should 
gather  double,  because  it  was  not  lawful  to 
collect  it  on  the  Sabbath.  The  people,  however, 
as  they  were  never  prone  to  obedience,  did  not, 
in  accordance  with  human  nature,  restrain  their 
desires,  providing  in  their  stores  not  merely  for 
one,  but  also  for  the  following  day.  But  that 
which  was  thus  laid  up  swarmed  with  worms, 
while  its  fetid  odor  was  dreadful,  yet  that  which 
was  laid  up  on  the  sixth  day  with  a  view  to  the 
Sabbath  remained  quite  untainted.  The  He- 
brews made  use  of  this  food  for  forty  years ;  its 
taste  was  very  like  that  of  honey ;  and  its  name 
is  handed  down  as  being  manna.  Moreover, 
as  an  abiding  witness  to  the  divine  gift,  Moses 
is  related  to  have  laid  up  a  full  gomer  of  it  in  a 
golden  vessel. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

The  people  going  on  from  thence,  and  being 
again  tried  with  want  of  water,  hardly  restrained 
themselves  from  destroying  their  leader.  Then 
Moses,  under  divine  orders,  striking  with  his 
rod  the  rock  at  the  place  which  is  called  Horeb, 
brought  forth  an  abundant  supply  of  water. 
But  when  they  came  to  Raphidin,  the  Amalekites 
destroyed  numbers  of  the  people  by  their 
attacks.  Moses,  leading  out  his  men  to  battle, 
placed  Joshua  at  the  head  of  the  army ;  and,  in 

2  This  is  a  somewhat  strange  description  of  the  manna.  Hornius 
remarks  upon  it  that  there  may  be  a  reference  to  the  dew  in  which 
the  Hebrews  believed  the  manna  to  have  been  enveloped,  but  that 
seems  a  far-fetched  explanation. 


company  with  Aaron  and  Hur,  was  himself  simply 
to  be  a  spectator  of  the  fight,  while,  at  the  same 
time,  for  the  purpose  of  praying  to  the  Lord,  he 
went  up  to  the  top  of  a  mountain.  But  when 
the  armies  had  met  with  doubtful  issue,  through 
the  prayers  of  Moses,  Joshua  slew  the  enemy 
until  nightfall.  At  the  same  time,  Jothor,  Moses' 
father-in-law,  with  his  daughter  Sepphora  (who, 
having  been  married  to  Moses,  had  remained  at 
home  when  her  husband  went  into  Egypt),  and 
his  children,  having  learned  the  things  which 
were  being  done  by  Moses,  came  to  him.  By 
his  advice  Moses  divided  the  people  into  various 
ranks ;  and,  setting  tribunes,  centurions',  and 
decurions x  over  them,  thus  furnished  a  mode  of 
discipline  and  order  to  posterity.  Jothor  then 
returned  to  his  own  country,  while  the  Israelites 
came  on  to  Mount  Sinai.  There  Moses  was 
admonished  by  the  Lord  that  the  people  should 
be  sanctified,  since  they  were  to  hearken  to  the 
words  of  God  ;  and  that  was  carefully  seen  to. 
But  when  God  rested  on  the  mountain,  the  air 
was  shaken  with  the  loud  sounds  of  trumpets, 
and  thick  clouds  rolled  around  with  frequent 
flashes  of  lightning.  But  Moses  and  Aaron  were 
on  the  top  of  the  mountain  beside  the  Lord, 
while  the  people  stood  around  the  bottom  of 
the  mountain.  Thus  a  law  was  given,  manifold 
and  full  of  the  words  of  God,  and  frequently 
repeated  ;  but  if  any  one  is  desirous  of  knowing 
particulars  regarding  it,  he  must  consult  the 
original,  as  we  here  only  briefly  touch  upon 
it.  "There  shall  not  be,"  said  God,  "  any 
strange  gods  among  you,  but  ye  shall  worship 
me  alone  ;  thou  shalt  not  make  to  thee  any  idol ; 
thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  thy  God  in  vain  ; 
thou  shalt  do  no  work  upon  the  Sabbath  ;  honor 
thy  father  and  thy  mother  ;  thou  shalt  not  kill ; 
thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery ;  thou  shalt  not 
steal ;  thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness  against 
thy  neighbor ;  thou  shalt  not  covet  anything 
belonging  to  thy  neighbor." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

These  things  being  said  by  God,  while  the 
trumpets  uttered  their  voices,  the  lamps  blazed, 
and  smoke  covered  the  mountain,  the  people 
trembled  from  terror ;  and  begged  of  Moses 
that  God  should  speak  to  him  alone,  and  that 
he  would  report  to  the  people  what  he  thus 
heard.  Now,  the  commandments  of  God  $o 
Moses  were  as  follows  :  A  Hebrew  servant  pur- 
chased with  money  shall  serve  six  years,  and 
after  that  he  shall  be  free  ;  but  his  ear  shall  be 
bored,  should  he  willingly  remain  in  slavery. 
Whosoever  slays  a  man  shall  be  put  to  death ; 


1  These  words  denote  what  is  expressed  in  the  Greei 
thousands,  of  hundreds,  and  of  tens." 


rulers  of 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


79 


he  who  does  so  unwittingly  shall  in  due  form  be 
banished.  Whosoever  shall  beat  his  father  or 
his  mother,  and  utter  evil  sayings  against  them, 
shall  suffer  death.  If  any  one  sell  a  Hebrew 
who  has  been  stolen,  he  shall  be  put  to  death. 
If  any  one  strike  his  own  man-servant  or  maid- 
servant, and  he  or  she  die  of  the  blow,  he  shall  be 
put  on  his  trial  for  doing  so.  If  any  one  cause  a 
woman1  to  miscarry,  he  shall  be  put  to  death.  If 
any  one  knock  out  the  eye  or  the  tooth  of  his 
servant,  that  servant  shall  receive  his  liberty  in  due 
form.  If  a  bull  kill  a  man,  it  shall  be  stoned  ;  and 
if  its  master,  knowing  the  vicious  temper  of  the 
animal,  did  not  take  precautions  in  connection 
with  it,  he  also  shall  be  stoned,  or  shall  redeem 
himself  by  a  price  as  large  as  the  accuser  shall 
demand.  If  a  bull  kill  a  servant,  money  to  the 
amount  of  thirty  double- drachmas  shall  be  paid 
to  his  master.  If  any  one  does  not  cover  up  a 
pit  which  has  been  dug,  and  an  animal  fall  into 
that  pit,  he  shall  pay  the  price  of  the  animal  to 
its  master.  If  a  bull  kill  the  bull  of  another 
man,  the  animal  shall  be  sold,  and  the  two 
masters  shall  share  the  price ;  they  shall  also 
divide  the  animal  that  has  been  killed.  But  if 
a  master,  knowing  the  vicious  temper  of  the 
bull,  did  not  take  precautions  in  connection 
with  it,  he  shall  give  up  the  bull.  If  any  one 
steals  a  calf,  he  shall  restore  five  ;  if  he  steals  a 
sheep,  the  penalty  shall  be  fourfold ;  and  if  the 
animals  be  found  alive  in  the  hands  of  him  who 
drove  them  off,  he  shall  restore  double.  It 
shall  be  lawful  to  kill  a  thief  by  night,  but  not 
one  by  day.  If  the  cattle  of  any  one  has  eaten 
up  the  corn  of  another,  the  master  of  the  cattle 
shall  restore  what  has  been  destroyed.  If  a 
deposit  disappears,  he,  in  whose  hands  it  was 
deposited,  shall  swear  that  he  has  not  been 
guilty  of  any  deceit.  A  thief  who  is  caught 
shall  pay  double.  An  animal  given  in  trust,  if 
devoured  by  a  wild  beast,  shall  not  be  made 
good.  If  any  one  defile  a  virgin  not  yet  be- 
trothed, he  shall  bestow  a  dowry  on  the  girl, 
and  thus  take  her  to  wife  ;  but,  if  the  father  of 
the  girl  shall  refuse  to  give  her  in  marriage,  then 
the  ravisher  shall  give  her  a  dowry.  If  any  one 
shall  join  himself  to  a  beast,  he  shall  be  put  to 
death.  Let  him  who  sacrifices  to  idols  perish. 
The  widow  and  orphan  are  not  to  be  oppressed  ; 
the  poor  debtor  is  not  to  be  hardly  treated,  nor 
is  usury  to  be  demanded  :  the  garment  of  the 
poor  is  not  to  be  taken  as  a  pledge.  A  ruler  of 
the  people  is  not  to  be  evil  spoken  of.  All  the 
first-born  are  to  be  offered  to  God.  Flesh 
taken  from  a  wild  beast  is  not  to  be  eaten. 
Agreements  to  bear  false  witness,  or  for  any  evil 
purpose,  are  not  to  be  made.  Thou  shalt  not 
pass  by  any  animal  of  thine  enemy  which  has 


1  Some  words  seem  to  have  been  lost  here. 


strayed,  but  shalt  bring  it  back.  If  you  find  an 
animal  of  your  enemy  fallen  down  under  a 
burden,  it  will  be  your  duty  to  raise  it  up.  Thou 
shalt  not  slay  the  innocent  and  the  righteous. 
Thou  shalt  not  justify  the  wicked  for  rewards. 
Gifts  are  not  to  be  accepted.  A  stranger  is  to 
be  kindly  treated.  Work  is  to  be  done  on  six 
days  :  rest  is  to  be  taken  on  the  Sabbath.  The 
crops  of  the  seventh  year  are  not  to  be  reaped, 
but  are  to  be  left  for  the  poor  and  needy. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

Moses  reported  these  words  of  God  to  the 
people,  and  placed  an  altar  of  twelve  stones  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountain.  Then  he  again  as- 
cended the  mountain  on  which  the  Lord  had 
taken  his  place,  bringing  with  him  Aaron,  Nabad, 
and  seventy  of  the  elders.  But  these  were  not 
able  to  look  upon  the  Lord  ;  nevertheless,  they 
saw  the  place 1  in  which  God  stood,  whose  form 
is  related  to  have  been  wonderful,  and  his  splen- 
dor glorious.  Now,  Moses,  having  been  called 
by  God,  entered  the  inner  cloud  which  had 
gathered  round  about  God,  and  is  related  to 
have  remained  there  forty  days  and  forty  nights. 
During  this  time,  he  was  taught  in  the  words 
of  God  about  building  the  tabernacle  and  the 
ark,  and  about  the  ritual  of  sacrifice  —  things 
which  I,  as  they  were  obviously  told  at  great 
length,  have  not  thought  proper  to  be  in- 
serted in  such  a  concise  work  as  the  present. 
But  as  Moses  stayed  away  a  long  time,  since  he 
spent  forty  days  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord, 
the  people,  despairing  of  his  return,  compelled 
Aaron  to  construct  images.  Then,  out  of  metals 
which  had  been  melted  together,  there  came 
forth  the  head  of  a  calf.  The  people,  unmindful 
of  God,  having  offered  sacrifices  to  this,  and 
given  themselves  up  to  eating  and  drinking, 
God,  looking  upon  these  things,  would  in  his 
righteous  indignation,  have  destroyed  the  wicked 
people,  had  he  not  been  entreated  by  Moses 
not  to  do  so.  But  Moses,  on  his  return,  bringing 
down  the  two  tables  of  stone  which  had  been 
written  by  the  hand  of  God,  and  seeing  the 
people  devoted  to  luxury  and  sacrilege,  broke 
the  tables,  thinking  the  nation  unworthy  of  having 
the  law  of  the  Lord  delivered  to  them.  He 
then  called  around  himself  the  Levites,  who  had 
been  assailed  with  many  insults,  and  commanded 
them  to  smite  the  people  with  drawn  swords. 
In  this  onset  twenty-three  thousand 2  men  are 
said  to  have  been  slain.  Then  Moses  set  up 
the  tabernacle  outside  the  camp ;  and,  as  often 


1  The  Hebrew  text  is  here  different. 

2  Curiously  enough,  our  author  here  reads,  "  twenty-three  thou- 
sand," in  opposition  alike  to  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  text,  both  of 
which  have  "  three  thousand." 


So 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


as  he  entered  it,  the  pillar  of  cloud  was  observed 
to  stand  before  the  door ;  and  God  spoke,  face 
to  face,  with  Moses.  But  when  Moses  en- 
treated that  he  might  see  the  Lord  in  his  pe- 
culiar majesty,  he  was  answered  that  the  form 
of  God  could  not  be  seen  by  mortal  eyes  ;  yet 
it  was  allowed  to  see  his  back  parts ;  and  the 
tables  which  Moses  had  formerly  broken  were 
constructed  afresh.  And  Moses  is  reported, 
during  this  conference  with  God,  to  have  stayed 
forty  days  with  the  Lord.  Moreover,  when  he 
descended  from  the  mountain,  bringing  with 
him  the  tables,  his  face  shone  with  so  great 
brightness,  that  the  people  were  not  able  to  look 
upon  him.  It  was  arranged,  therefore,  that 
when  he  was  to  make  known  to  them  the  com- 
mands of  God,  he  covered  his  face  with  a  veil, 
and  thus  spoke  to  the  people  in  the  words  of 
God.  In  this  part  of  the  history  an  account  is 
given 3  of  the  tabernacle,  and  the  building  of  its 
inner  parts.  Which  having  been  finished,  the 
cloud  descended  from  above,  and  so  over- 
shadowed the  tabernacle  that  it  prevented  Moses 
himself  from  entering.  These  are  the  principal 
matters  contained  in  the  two  books  of  Genesis 
and  Exodus. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Then  follows  the  book  of  Leviticus,  in  which 
the  precepts  bearing  upon  sacrifice  are  set  forth  ; 
commandments  also  are  added  to  the  law 
formerly  given ;  and  almost  the  whole  is  full  of 
instructions  connected  with  the  priests.  If  any 
one  wishes  to  become  acquainted  with  these,  he 
will  obtain  fuller  information  from  that  source. 
For  we,  keeping  within  the  limits  of  the  work 
undertaken,  touch  upon  the  history  only.  The 
tribe  of  Levi,  then,  being  set  apart  for  the  priest- 
hood, the  rest  of  the  tribes  were  numbered,  and 
were  found  to  amount  to  six  hundred  and  three 
thousand  five  hundred  persons.1  When,  there- 
fore, the  people  made  use  of  the  manna  for 
food,  as  we  have  related  above,  even  amid  so 
many  and  so  great  kindnesses  of  God,  showing 
themselves,  as  ever,  ungrateful,  they  longed  after 
the  worthless  viands  to  which  they  had  been 
accustomed  in  Egypt.  Then  the  Lord  brought 
an  enormous  supply  of  quails  into  the  camp ; 
and  as  they  were  eagerly  tearing  these  to  pieces, 
as  soon  as  their  lips  touched  the  flesh,  they 
perished.  There  was  indeed  on  that  day  a  great 
destruction  in  the  camp,  so  that  twenty  and 
three  thousand  men  are  said  to  have  died. 
Thus  the  people  were  punished  by  the  very  food 
which  they  desired.  Thence  the  company  went 
forward,   and  came  to   Faran  ;   and  looses  was 

3  Halm  here  reads  "  referetur,"  but  "  refertur,"  another  reading, 
seems  preferable. 

1  The  text  here  varies:  we  have  followed  Halm. 


instructed  by  the  Lord  that  the  land  was  now 
near,  the  possession  of  which  the  Lord  had 
promised  them.  Spies,  accordingly,  having  been 
sent  into  it,  they  report  that  it  was  a  land  blessed 
with  all  abundance,  but  that  the  nations  were 
powerful,  and  the  towns  fortified  with  immense 
walls.  When  this  was  made  known  to  the  people, 
fear  seized  the  minds  of  all ;  and  to  such  a  pitch 
of  wickedness  did  they  come,  that,  despising 
the  authority  of  Moses,  they  prepared  to  appoint 
for  themselves  a  leader,  under  whose  guidance 
they  might  return  to  Egypt.  Then  Joshua  and 
Caleb,  who  had  been  of  the  number  of  the  spies, 
rent  their  garments  with  tears,  and  implored  the 
people  not  to  believe  the  spies  relating  such 
terrors  ;  for  that  they  themselves  had  been  with 
them,  and  had  found  nothing  dreadful  in  that 
country ;  and  that  it  behooved  them  to  trust 
the  promises  of  God,  that  these  enemies  would 
rather  become  their  prey  than  prove  their  de- 
struction. But  that  stiff-necked  race,  setting 
themselves  against  every  good  advice,  rushed 
upon  them  to  destroy  them.  And  the  Lord, 
angry  on  account  of  these  things,  exposed  a 
part  of  the  people  to  be  slain  by  the  enemy, 
while  the  spies  were  slain  for  having  excited 
fear  among  the  people. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

There  followed  the  revolt  of  those,  who,  with 
Dathan  and  Abiron  as  leaders,  endeavored  to 
set  themselves  up  against  Moses  and  Aaron ; 
but  the  earth,  opening,  swallowed  them  alive. 
And  not  long  after,  a  revolt  of  the  whole  people 
arose  against  Moses  and  Aaron,  so  that  they 
rushed  into  the  tabernacle,  which  it  was  not 
lawful  for  any  but  the  priests  to  enter.  Then 
truly  death  mowed  them  down  in  heaps  •  and 
all  would  have  ^perished  in  a  moment,  had  not 
the  Lord,  appeased  by  the  prayers  of  Moses, 
turned  aside  the  disaster.  Nevertheless,  the 
number  of  those  slain  amounted  to  seven  hun- 
dred and  fourteen  thousand.1  And  not  long 
after,  as  had  already  often  happened,  a  revolt 
of  the  people  arose  on  account  of  the  want  of 
water.  Then  Moses,  instructed  by  God  to  strike 
the  rock  with  his  rod,  with  a  kind  of  trial  now 
familiar  to  him,  since  he  had  already  done  that 
before,  struck  the  rock  once  and  again,  and 
thus  water  flowed  out  of  it.  In  regard,  however, 
to  this  point,  Moses  is  said  to  have  been  reproved 
by  God,  that,  through  want  of  faith,  he  did  not 
bring  out  the  water  except  by  repeated  blows ; 
in  fact,  on  account  of  this  transgression,  he  did 
not  enter  the  land  promised  to  him,  as  I  shall 
show  farther  on.  Moses,  then,  moving  away 
from  that  place,  as  he  was  preparing  to  lead  his 


1  "  septingenti  et  xiiii  milia." 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


company  along  by  the  borders  of  Edom,  sent 
ambassadors  to  the  king  to  beg  liberty  to  pass 
by ;  for  he  thought  it  right  to  abstain  from  war 
on  account  of  the  connection  by  blood  ;  for  that 
nation  was  descended  from  Esau.  But  the 
king  despised  the  suppliants,  and  refused  them 
liberty  to  pass  by,  being  ready  to  contend  in 
arms.  Then  Moses  directed  his  march  towards 
the  mountain,  Or,  keeping  clear  of  the  forbid- 
den road,  that  he  might  not  furnish  any  cause 
of  war  between  those  related  by  blood,  and  on 
that  route  he  destroyed  the  king  of  the  nation  of 
the  Canaanites.  He  smote  also  Seon  the  king 
of  the  Amorites,  and  possessed  himself  of  all 
their  towns  :  he  conquered,  too,  Basan  and  Balac. 
He  pitched  his  camp  beyond  Jordan,  not  far 
from  Jericho.  Then  a  battle  took  place  against 
the  Midianites,  and  they  were  conquered  and 
subdued.  Moses  died,  after  he  had  ruled  the 
people  forty  years  in  the  wilderness.  But  the 
Hebrews  are  said  to  have  remained  in  the  wil- 
derness for  so  long  a  time,  with  this  view,  until 
all  those  who  had  not  believed  the  words  of 
God  perished.  For,  except  Joshua  and  Caleb, 
not  one  of  those  who  were  more  than  twenty 
years  old  on  leaving  Egypt  passed  over  Jordan. 
That  Moses  himself  only  saw  the  promised  land, 
and  did  not  reach  it,  is  ascribed  to  his  sin, 
because,  at  that  time  when  he  was  ordered  to 
strike  the  rock,  and  bring  forth  water,  he  doubted, 
even  after  so  many  proofs  of  his  miraculous 
power.  He  died  in  the  one  hundred  and 
twentieth  year  of  his  age.  Nothing  is  known 
concerning  the  place  of  his  burial. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

ArrER  the  death  of  Moses,  the  chief  power 
passed  into  the  hands  of  Joshua  the  son  of  Nun, 
for  Moses  had  appointed  him  his  successor, 
being  a  man  very  like  himself  in  the  good  qualities 
which  he  displayed.  Now,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  rule,  he  sent  messengers  through 
the  camp  to  instruct  the  people  to  make  ready 
supplies  of  corn,  and  announces  that  they  should 
march  on  the  third  day.  But  the  river  Jordan, 
a  very  powerful  stream,  hindered  their  crossing, 
because  they  did  not  have  a  supply  of  vessels 
for  the  occasion,  and  the  stream  could  not  be 
crossed  by  fords,  as  it  was  then  rushing  on  in 
full  flood.  He,  therefore,  orders  the  ark  to  be 
carried  forward  by  the  priests,  and  that  they 
should  take  their  stand  against  the  current  of 
the  river.  On  this  being  done,  Jordan  is  said 
to  have  been  divided,  and  thus  the  army  was 
led  over  on  dry  ground.  There  was  in  these 
places  a  town  called  Jericho,  fortified  with  very 
strong  walls,  and  not  easy  to  be  taken,  either  by 
storm   or   blockade.     But  Joshua,   putting   his 


trust  in  God,  did  not  attack  the  city  either  by 
arms  or  force ;  he  simply  ordered  the  ark  of 
God  to  be  carried  round  the  walls,  while  the 
priests  walked  before  the  ark,  and  sounded 
trumpets.  But  when  the  ark  had  been  carried 
round  seven  times,  the  walls  and  the  towers  fell ; 
and  the  city  was  plundered  and  burnt.  Then 
Joshua  is  said  to  have  addressed  the  Lord,  and  1 
to  have  called  down  a  curse  upon  any  one  who 
should  attempt  to  restore  the  town  which  had 
thus  by  divine  help  been  demolished.  Next, 
the  army  was  led  against  Geth,  and  an  ambus- 
cade having  been  placed  behind  the  city,  Joshua, 
pretending  fear,  fled  before  the  enemy.  On 
seeing  this,  those  who  were  in  the  town,  opening 
the  gates,  began  to  press  upon  the  enemy  giving 
way.  Thus,  the  men  who  were  in  ambush  took 
the  city,  and  all  the  inhabitants  were  slain,  without 
one  escaping :  the  king  also  was  taken,  and 
suffered  capital  punishment. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

When  this  became  known  to  the  kings  of  the 
neighboring  nations,  they  made  a  warlike  alliance 
to  put  down  the  Hebrews  by  arms.  But  the 
Gibeonites,  a  powerful  nation  with  a  wealthy 
city,  spontaneously  yielded  to  the  Hebrews, 
promising  to  do  what  they  were  ordered,  and 
were  received  under  protection,  while  they  were 
told  to  bring  in  wood  and  water.  But  their 
surrender  had  roused  the  resentment  of  the 
kings  of  the  nearest  cities.  Accordingly,  moving 
up  their  troops,  they  surround  with  a  blockade 
their  town,  which  was  called  Gabaoth.  The 
townspeople,  therefore,  in  their  distress,  send 
messengers  to  Joshua,  that  he  would  help  them 
in  their  state  of  siege.  Accordingly,  he  by  a 
forced  march  came  upon  the  enemy  at  unawares, 
and  many  thousands  of  them  were  completely 
destroyed.  When  day  failed  the  victors,  and  it 
seemed  that  night  would  furnish  protection  to 
the  vanquished,  the  Hebrew  general,  through  the 
power  of  his  faith,  kept  off  the  night,  and  the 
day  continued,  so  that  there  was  no  means  of 
escape  for  the  enemy.  Five  kings  who  were 
taken  suffered  death.  By  the  same  attack, 
neighboring  cities  also  were  brought  under  the 
power  of  Joshua,  and  their  kings  were  cut  off. 
But  as  it  was  not  my  design,  studious  as  I  am 
of  brevity,  to  follow  out  all  these  things  in  order, 
I  only  carefully  observe  this,  that  twenty-nine 
kingdoms  were  brought  under  the  yoke  of  the 
Hebrews,  and  that  their  territory  was  distributed 
among  eleven  tribes,  to  man  after  man.  For  to 
the  Levites,  who  had  been  set  apart  for  the 
priesthood,  no  portion  was  given,  in  order  that 


1  Some  words  have  here  been  lost,  but  are  conjecturally  supplied 
in  the  text. 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


they  might  the  more  freely  serve  God.  I  desire 
not,  in  silence,  to  pass  over  the  example  thus 
set,  but  I  would  earnestly  bring  it  forward  as 
well  worthy  of  being  read  by  the  ministers  of 
the  Church.  For  these  seem  to  me  not  only 
unmindful  of  this  precept,  but  even  utterly  igno- 
rant of  it  —  such  a  lust  for  possessing  has,  in 
this  age,  seized,  like  an  incurable  disease,  upon 
their  minds.  They  gape  upon  possessions  ;  they 
cultivate  estates  ;  they  repose  upon  gold  ;  they 
buy  and  sell ;  they  study  gain  by  every  possible 
means.  And  even,  if  any  of  them  seem  to  have 
a  better  aim  in  life,  neither  possessing  nor 
trading,  still  (what  is  much  more  disgraceful) 
remaining  inactive,  they  look  for  gifts,  and  have 
corrupted  the  whole  glory  of  life  by  their  mer- 
cenary dispositions,  while  they  present  an  ap- 
pearance of  sanctity,  as  if  even  that  might  be 
made  a  source  of  gain.  But  I  have  gone  farther 
than  I  intended  in  expressing  my  loathing  and 
disgust  over  the  character  of  our  times  ;  and  I 
hasten  to  return  to  the  subject  in  hand.  The 
vanquished  territory,  then,  as  I  have  already 
said,  having  been  divided  among  the  tribes,  the 
Hebrews  enjoyed  profound  peace ;  their  neigh- 
bors, being  terrified  by  war,  did  not  venture  to 
attempt  hostilities  against  those  distinguished  by 
so  many  victories.  At  the  same  period  died 
Joshua  in  the  hundred  and  tenth  year  of  his 
age.  I  do  not  express  any  definite  opinion  as 
to  the  length  of  time  he  ruled  :  the  prevalent 
view,  however,  is,  that  he  was  at  the  head  of  the 
Hebrew  affairs  during  twenty-seven  years.  If 
this  were  so,  then  three  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  eighty-four  years  had  elapsed  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world  to  his  death. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

After  the  death  of  Joshua,  the  people  acted 
without  a  leader.  But  a  necessity  of  making 
war  with  the  Canaanites  having  arisen,  Judah 
was  appointed  as  general  in  the  war.  Under 
his  guidance,  matters  were  successfully  con- 
ducted :  there  was  the  greatest  tranquillity  both 
at  home  and  abroad  :  the  people  ruled  over  the 
nations  which  had  either  been  subdued  or  re- 
ceived under  terms  of  surrender.  Then,  as 
almost  always  happens  in  a  time  of  prosperity, 
becoming  unmindful  of  morals  and  discipline, 
they  began  to  contract  marriages  from  among 
the  conquered,  and  by  and  by  to  adopt  foreign 
customs,  yea,  even  in  a  sacrilegious  manner  to 
offer  sacrifice  to  idols :  so  pernicious  is  all 
alliance  with  foreigners.  God,  foreseeing  these 
things  long  before,  had,  by  a  wholesome  precept 
enjoined  upon  the  Hebrews  to  give  over  the 
conquered    nations   to   utter   destruction.     But 


the  people,  through  lust  for  power,  preferred 
(to  their  own  ruin)  to  rule  over  those  who  were 
conquered.  Accordingly,  when,  forsaking  God, 
they  worshiped  idols,  they  were  deprived  of 
the  divine  assistance,  and,  being  vanquished  and 
subdued  by  the  king  of  Mesopotamia,  they  paid 
the  penalty  of  eight  years'  captivity,  until,  with 
Gothoniel  as  their  leader,  they  were  restored  to 
liberty,  and  enjoyed  independence  for  fifty 
years.  Then  again,  corrupted  by  the  evil  effect 
of  a  lengthened  peace,  they  began  to  sacrifice 
to  idols.  And  speedily  did  retribution  fall  upon 
them  thus  sinning.  Conquered  by  Eglon,  king 
of  the  Moabites,  they  served  him  eighteen  years, 
until,  by  a  divine  impulse,  Aod  slew  the  enemies' 
king  by  a  stratagem,  and,  gathering  together  a 
hasty  army,  restored  thefm  to  liberty  by  force  of 
arms.  The  same  man  ruled  the  Hebrews  in 
peace  for  forty  years.  To  him  Semigar  suc- 
seeded,  and  he,  engaging  in  battle  with  the 
Philistines,1  secured  a  decisive  victory.  But 
again,  the  king  of  the  Canaanites,  Jabin  by 
name,  subdued  the  Hebrews  who  were  once 
more  serving  idols,  and  exercised  over  them  a 
grievous  tyranny  for  twenty  years,  until  Deborah, 
a  woman,  restored  them  to  their  former  condi- 
tion. They  had  to  such  a  degree  lost  confidence 
in  their  generals,  that  they  were  now  protected 
by  means  of  a  woman.  But  it  is  worthy  of 
notice,  that  this  form  of  deliverance  was  arranged 
beforehand,  as  a  type  of  the  Church,  by  whose 
aid  captivity  to  the  devil  is  escaped.  The  He- 
brews were  forty  years  under  this  leader  or 
judge.  And  being  again  delivered  over  to  the 
Midianites  for  their  sins,  they  were  kept  under 
hard  rule ;  and,  being  afflicted  by  the  evils  of 
slavery,  they  implored  the  divine  help.  Thus 
always  when  in  prosperity  they  were  unmindful 
of  the  kindnesses  of  heaven,  and  prayed  to  idols  ; 
but  in  adversity  they  cried  to  God.  Wherefore, 
as  often  as  I  reflect  that  those  people  who  lay 
under  so  many  obligations  to  the  goodness  of 
God,  being  chastised  with  so  many  disasters  when 
they  sinned,  and  experiencing  both  the  mercy 
and  the  severity  of  God,  yet  were  by  no  means 
rendered  better,  and  that,  though  they  always 
obtained  pardon  for  their  transgressions,  yet 
they  as  constantly  sinned  again  after  being  par- 
doned, it  can  appear  nothing  wonderful  that 
Christ  when  he  came  was  not  received  by  them, 
since  already,  from  the  beginning,  they  were 
found  so  often  rebelling  against  the  Lord.  It  is, 
in  fact,  far  more  wonderful  that  the  clemency  of 
God  never  failed  them  when  they  sinned,  if  only 
they  called  upon  his  name.2 


1  "  Allophylos  ":  lit.  strangers. 

2  Many  of  the  proper  names  occurring  in  this  and  other  chapters 
are  very  different  in  form  from  those  with  which  we  are  familiar  in 
the  O.  T.  But  they  have  generally  been  given  as  they  stand  in  the 
text  of  our  author,  and  they  can  easily  be  identified  by  any  readers 
who  think  it  worth  while  to  do  so. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


83 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

Accordingly,  when  the  Midianites,  as  we  have 
related  above,  ruled  over  them,  they  turned  to 
the  Lord,  imploring  his  wonted  tender  mercy, 
and  obtained  it.  There  was  then  among  the 
Hebrews  one  Gideon  by  name,  a  righteous  man, 
who  was  dear  and  acceptable  to  God.  The 
angel  stood  by  him  as  he  was  returning  home 
from  the  harvest-field,  and  said  unto  him,  "  The 
Lord  is  with  thee,  thou  mighty  man  of  valor." 
But  he  in  a  humble  voice  complained  that  the 
Lord  was  not1  with  him,  because  captivity 
pressed  sore  upon  his  people,  and  he  remem- 
bered with  tears  the  miracles  wrought  by  the 
Lord,  who  had  brought  them  out  of  the  land  of 
Egypt.  Then  the  angel  said,  "  Go,  in  this  spirit 
in  which  you  have  spoken,  and  deliver  the  people 
from  captivity."  But  he  declared  that  he  could 
not,  with  his"  feeble  strength,  since  he  was  a 
man  of  very  small  importance,  undertake  such 
a  heavy  task.  The  angel,  however,  persisted  in 
urging  him  not  to  doubt  that  those  things  could 
be  done  which  the  Lord  said.  So  then,  having 
offered  sacrifice,  and  overthrown  the  altar  which 
the  Midianites  had  consecrated  to  the  image  of 
Baal,  he  went  to  his  own  people,  and  pitched 
his  camp  near  the  camp  of  the  enemy.  But  the 
nation  of  the  Amalekites  had  also  joined  them- 
selves to  the  Midianites,  while  Gideon  had  not 
gathered  more  than  an  army  of  thirty-two  thou- 
sand men.  But  before  the  battle  began,  God 
said  to  him  that  this  was  a  larger  number  than 
he  wished  him  to  lead  forth  to  the  conflict ; 
that,  if  he  did  make  use  of  so  many,  the  Hebrews 
would,  in  accordance  with  their  usual  wickedness, 
ascribe  the  result  of  the  fight,  not  to  God,  but  to 
their  own  bravery  ;  he  should  therefore  furnish  an 
opportunity  of  leaving  to  those  who  desired  to  do 
so.  When  this  was  made  known  to  the  people, 
twenty  and  two  thousand  left  the  camp.  But 
of  the  ten  thousand  who  had  remained,  Gideon, 
as  instructed  by  God,  did  not  retain  more  than 
three  hundred  :  the  rest  he  dismissed  from  the 
field.  Thus,  entering  the  camp  of  the  enemy 
in  the  middle  watch  of  the  night,  and  having 
ordered  all  his  men  to  sound  their  trumpets,  he 
caused  great  terror  to  the  enemy ;  and  no  one 
had  courage  to  resist ;  but  they  made  off  in  a 
disgraceful  flight  wherever  they  could.  The 
Hebrews,  however,  meeting  them  in  every  direc- 
tion, cut  the  fugitives  to  pieces.  Gideon  pur- 
sued the  kings  beyond  Jordan,  and  having  cap- 
tured them,  gave  them  over  to  death.  In  that 
battle,  a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  of  the 
enemy  are  said  to  have  been  slain,  and  fifteen 
thousand    captured.     Then,    by  universal   con- 


1  "  Non  esse  in  se." 

2  "  Infractis  viribus":    Vorstius  well  remarks  that  ' 
here  used  with  the  sense  of  the  simple  "  fractis." 


infractis  "  is 


sent,  a  proposal  was  made  to  Gideon  that  he 
should  be  king  of  the  people.  But  he  rejected 
this  proposal,  and  preferred  rather  to  live  on 
equal  terms  with  his  fellow-citizens  than  to  be 
their  ruler.  Having,  therefore,  escaped  from 
their  captivity,  which  had  pressed  upon  the 
people  for  seven  years,  they  now  enjoyed  peace 
for  a  period  of  forty  years. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

But  on  the  death  of  Gideon,  his  son  Abime- 
lech,  whose  mother  was  a  concubine,  having 
slain  his  brothers  with  the  concurrence  of  a 
multitude  of  wicked  men,  and  especially  by  the 
help  of  the  chief  men  among  the  Shechemites, 
took  possession  of  the  kingdom.  And  he,  being 
harassed  by  civil  strife,  while  he  pressed  hard 
upon  his  people  by  war,  attempted  to  storm  a 
certain  tower,  into  which  they,  after  losing  the 
town,  had  betaken  themselves  by  flight.  But,  as 
he  approached  the  place  without  sufficient  cau- 
tion, he  was  slain  by  a  stone  which  a  woman  threw, 
after  holding  the  government  for  three  years. 
To  him  succeeded  Thola,  who  reigned  two  and 
twenty  years.  After  him  came  Jair ;  and  after 
he  had  held  the  chief  place  for  a  like  period  of 
twenty-two  years,  the  people,  forsaking  God, 
gave  themselves  up  to  idols.  On  this  account, 
the  Israelites  were  subdued  by  the  Philistines 
and  Ammonites,  and  remained  under  their  power 
for  eighteen  years.  At  the  end  of  this  period, 
they  began  to  call  upon  God ;  but  the  divine 
answer  to  them  was  that  they  should  rather  in- 
voke the  aid  of  their  images,  for  that  he  would 
no  longer  extend  his  mercy  to  those  who  had 
been  so  ungrateful.  But  they  with  tears  con- 
fessed their  fault,  and  implored  forgiveness ; 
while,  throwing  away  their  idols,  and  earnestly 
calling  upon  God,  they  obtained  the  divine  com- 
passion, though  it  had  been  at  first  refused. 
Accordingly,  under  Jephtha  as  general,  they 
assembled  in  great  numbers  for  the  purpose  of 
recovering  their  liberty  by  arms,  having  first 
sent  ambassadors  to  King  Ammon,  begging  that, 
content  with  his  own  territories,  he  should  keep 
from  warring  against  them.  But  he,  far  from 
declining  battle,  at  once  drew  up  his  army. 
Then  Jephtha,  before  the  signal  for  battle  was 
given,  is  said  to  have  vowed  that,  if  he  obtained 
the  victory,  the  person  who  first  met  him  as  he 
returned  home,  should  be  offered  to  God  as  a 
sacrifice.  Accordingly,  on  the  enemy  being 
defeated,  as  Jephtha  was  returning  home,  his 
daughter  met  him,  having  joyfully  gone  forth 
with  drums  and  dances  to  receive  her  father  as 
a  conqueror.  Then  Jephtha,  being  overwhelmed 
with  sorrow,  rent  his  clothes  in  his  affliction, 
and  made  known  to  his  daughter  the  stringent 


THE    WRITINGS   OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


obligation  of  his  vow.  But  she,  with  a  courage 
not  to  be  expected  from  a  woman,  did  not 
refuse  to  die ;  she  only  begged  that  her  life 
might  be  spared  for  two  months,  that  she  might 
before  dying  have  the  opportunity  of  seeing  the 
friends  of  her  own  age.  This  being  done,  she 
willingly  returned  to  her  father,  and  fulfilled 
the  vow  to  God.  Jephtha  held  the  chief  power 
for  six  years.  To  him  Esebon  succeeded,  and 
having  ruled  in  tranquillity  for  seven  years,  then 
died.  After  him,  Elon  the  Zebulonite  ruled  for 
ten  years,  and  Abdon  also  for  eight  years ;  but, 
as  their  rule  was  peaceful,  they  performed  nothing 
which  history  might  record. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

The  Israelites  yet  again  turned  to  idols  ;  and, 
being  deprived  of  the  divine  protection,  were 
subdued  by  the  Philistines,  and  paid  the  penalty 
of  their  unfaithfulness  by  forty  years  of  captivity. 
At  that  time,  Samson  is  related  to  have  been 
born.  His  mother,  after  being  long  barren,  had 
a  vision  of  an  angel,  and  was  told  to  abstain 
from  wine,  and  strong  drink,  and  everything 
unclean ;  for  that  she  should  bear  a  son  who 
would  be  the  restorer  of  liberty  to  the  Israelites, 
and  their  avenger  upon  their  enemies.  He, 
with  unshorn  locks,  is  said  to  have  been  pos- 
sessed of  marvelous  strength,  so  much  so  that 
he  tore  to  pieces  with  his  hands  a  lion  which  met 
him  in  the  way.  He  had  a  wife  from  the  Philis- 
tines, and  when  she,  in  the  absence  of  her  hus- 
band, had  entered  into  marriage  with  another,  he, 
through  indignation  on  account  of  his  wife  being 
thus  taken  from  him,  wrought  destruction  to  her 
nation.  Trusting  in  God  and  his  own  strength, 
he  openly  brought  disaster  on  those  hitherto 
victors.  For,  catching  three  hundred  foxes,  he 
tied  burning  torches  to  their  tails,  and  sent  them 
into  the  fields  of  the  enemy.  It  so  happened 
that  at  the  time  the  harvest  was  ripe,  and  thus 
the  fire  easily  caught,  while  the  vines  and  olive- 
trees  were  burnt  to  ashes.  He  was  thus  seen 
to  have  avenged  the  injury  done  him  in  taking 
away  his  wife,  by  a  great  loss  inflicted  on  the 
Philistines.  And  they,  enraged  at  this  disaster, 
destroyed  by  fire  the  woman  who  had  been  the 
cause  of  so  great  a  calamity,  along  with  her 
house  and  her  father.  But  Samson,  thinking 
himself  as  yet  but  poorly  avenged,  ceased  not 
to  harass  the  heathen  race  with  all  sorts  of  evil 
devices.  Then  the  Jews,  being  compelled  to  it, 
handed  him  over  as  a  prisoner  to  the  Philistines  ; 
but,  when  thus  handed  over,  he  burst  his  bonds, 
and  seizing  the  jaw-bone  :  of  an  ass,  which  chance 
offered  him  as  a  weapon,  he  slew  a  thousand  of 
his  enemies.     And,  as  the  heat  of  the  day  grew 

1  Simply  "  osse  asini  "  in  text. 


violent,  and  he  began  to  suffer  from  thirst,  he 
called  upon  God,  and  water  flowed  forth  from  - 
the  bone  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

At  that  time  Samson  ruled  over  the  Hebrews, 
the  Philistines  having  been  subdued  by  the 
prowess  of  a  single  individual.  They,  therefore, 
sought  his  life  by  stratagem,  not  daring  to  assail 
him  openly,  and  with  this  view  they  bribe  his 
wife  (whom  he  had  received  after  what  has  been 
stated  took  place)  to  betray  to  them  wherein 
the  strength  of  her  husband  lay.  She  attacked 
him  with  female  blandishments  ;  and,  after  he 
had  deceived  her,  and  staved  off  her  purpose 
for  a  long  time,  she  persuaded  him  to  tell  that 
his  strength  was  situated  in  his  hair.  Presently 
she  cut  off  his  hair  stealthily  while  he  was  asleep, 
and  thus  delivered  him  up  to  the  Philistines ; 
for  although  he  had  often  before  been  given 
up  to  them,  they  had  not  been  able  to  hold  him 
fast.  Then  they,  having  put  out  his  eyes,  bound 
him  with  fetters,  and  cast  him  into  prison. 
But,  in  course  of  time,  his  hair  which  had  been 
cut  off  began  to  grow  again,  and  his  strength  to 
return  with  it.  And  now  Samson,  conscious  of 
his  recovered  strength,  was  only  waiting  for  an 
opportunity  of  righteous  revenge.  The  Philis- 
tines had  a  custom  on  their  festival  days  of  pro- 
ducing Samson  as  if  to  make  a  public  spectacle 
of  him,  while  they  mocked  their  illustrious  cap- 
tive. Accordingly,  on  a  certain  day,  when  they 
were  making  a  feast  in  honor  of  their  idol,  they 
ordered  Samson  to  be  exhibited.  Now,  the 
temple,  in  which  all  the  people  and  all  the 
princes  of  the  Philistines  feasted,  rested  on  two 
pillars  of  remarkable  size  ;  and  Samson,  when 
brought  out,  was  placed  between  these  pillars. 
Then  he,  having  first  called  upon  the  Lord, 
seized  his  opportunity,  and  threw  down  the 
pillars.  The  whole  multitude  was  overwhelmed 
in  the  ruins  of  the  building,  and  Samson  himself 
died  along  with  his  enemies,  not  without  having 
avenged  himself  upon  them,  after  he  had  ruled 
the  Hebrews  twenty  years.  To  him  Simmichar 
succeeded,  of  whom  Scripture  relates  nothing 
more  than  that  simple  fact.  For  I  do  not  find 
that  even  the  time  when  his  rule  came  to  an 
end  is  mentioned,  and  I  see  that  the  people 
was  for  some  time  without  a  leader.  Accordingly, 
when  civil  war  arose  against  the  tribe  of  Benja- 
min, Judah  was  chosen  as  a  temporary  leader 
in  the  war.  But  most  of  those  who  have  writ- 
ten about  these  times  note  that  his  rule  was 
only  for  a  single  year.     On  this  account,  many 


-  This  is  clearly  the  meaning,  and  Halm's  punctuation,  "  invo- 
cato  Deo  ex  osse,  quod  manu  tenebat,  aqua  fluxit,"  is  obviously 
wrong. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


85 


pass  him  by  altogether,  and  place  Eli,  the  priest, 
immediately  after  Samson.  We  shall  leave  that 
point  doubtful,  as  one  not  positively  ascertained. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

About  these  times,  civil  war,  as  we  have  said, 
had  broken  out ;  and  the  following  was  the 
cause  of  the  tumult.  A  certain  Levite  was  on  a 
journey  along  with  his  concubine,  and,  con- 
strained by  the  approach  of  night,  he  took  up 
his  abode  in  the  town  of  Gabaa,  which  was  in- 
habited by  men  of  Benjamin.  A  certain  old 
man  having  kindly  admitted  him  to  hospitality, 
the  young  men  of  the  town  surrounded  the 
guest,  with  the  view  of  subjecting  him  to  im- 
proper treatment.  After  being  much  chidden 
by  the  old  man,  and  with  difficulty  dissuaded 
from  their  purpose,  they  at  length  received  for 
their  wanton  sport  the  person  of  his  concubine  as 
a  substitute  for  his  own ;  and  they  thus  spared 
the  stranger,  but  abused  her  through  the  whole 
night,  and  only  restored  her  on  the  following  day. 
But  she  (whether  from  the  injury  their  vile  con- 
duct had  inflicted  on  her,  or  from  shame,  I  do  not 
venture  to  assert)  died  on  again  seeing *  her  hus- 
band. Then  the  Levite,  in  testimony  of  the  hor- 
rible deed,  divided  her  members  into  twelve  parts, 
and  distributed  them  among  the  twelve  tribes, 
that  indignation  at  such  conduct  might  the  more 
readily  be  excited  in  them  all.  And  when  this 
became  known  to  all  of  them,  the  other  eleven 
tribes  entered  into  a  warlike  confederacy  against 
Benjamin.  In  this  war,  Judah,  as  we  have  said, 
was  the  general.  But  they  had  bad  success  in 
the  first  two  battles.  At  length,  however,  in  the 
third,  the  Benjamites  were  conquered,  and  cut 
off  to  a  man ;  thus  the  crime  of  a  few  was  pun- 
ished by  the  destruction  of  a  multitude.  These 
things  also  are  contained  in  the  Book  of  Judges  : 
the  Books  of  Kings  follow.  But  to  me  who  am 
following  the  succession  of  the  years,  and  the 
order  of  the  dates,  the  history  does  not  appear 
marked  by  strict  chronological  accuracy.  For, 
since  after  Samson  as  judge,  there  came  Semi- 
gar,  and  a  little  later  the  history  certifies  that 
the  people  lived  without  judges,  Eli  the  priest  is 
related  in  the  Books  of  Kings  to  have  also  been 
a  judge,2  but  the  Scripture  has  not  stated  how 
many  years  there  were  between  Eli  and  Samson. 
I  see  that  there  was  some  portion  of  time  be- 
tween these  two,  which  is  left  in  obscurity. 
But,  from  the  day  of  the  death  of  Joshua  up  to 
the  time  at  which  Samson  died,  there  are 
reckoned  four  hundred  and  eighteen  years,  and 
from  the  beginning  of  the  world,  four  thousand 


1  A  clear  mistake  of  memory  in  our  author.     The  whole  narra- 
tive is  confused. 

2  The  meaning  is  here  doubtful. 


three  hundred  and  three.  Nevertheless,  I  am 
not  ignorant  that  others  differ  from  this  reckon- 
ing of  ours  ;  but  I  am  at  the  same  time  conscious 
that  I  have,  not  without  some  care,  set  forth  the 
order  of  events  in  the  successive  years  (a  thing 
hitherto  left  in  obscurity),  until  I  have  fallen 
upon  these  times,  concerning  which  I  confess 
that  I  have  my  doubts.  Now  I  shall  go  on  to 
what  remains. 

CHAPTER   XXX. 

The  Hebrews,  then,  as  I  have  narrated  above, 
were  living  according  to  their  own  will,  without 
any  judge  or  general.  Eli  was  priest ;  and  in 
his  days  Samuel  was  born.  His  father's  name 
was  Elchana,  and  his  mother's,  Anna.  She 
having  long  been  barren,  is  said,  when  she  asked 
a  child  from  God,  to  have  vowed  that,  if  it  were 
a  boy,  it  should  be  dedicated  to  God.  Accord- 
ingly, having  brought  forth  a  boy,  she  delivered 
him  to  Eli  the  priest.  By  and  by,  when  he  had 
grown  up,  God  spoke  to  him.  He  denounced 
wrath  against  Eli  the  priest  on  account  of  the 
life  of  his  sons,  who  had  made  the  priesthood 
of  their  father  a  means  of  gain  to  themselves, 
and  exacted  gifts  from  those  who  came  to 
sacrifice ;  and,  although  their  father  is  related 
to  have  often  reproved  them,  yet  his  reproofs 
were  too  gentle  to  serve  the  purpose  of  discipline. 
Well,  the  Philistines  made  an  incursion  into 
Judsea,  and  were  met  by  the  Israelites.  But  the 
Hebrews,  being  beaten,  prepare  to  renew  the 
contest :  they  carry  the  ark  of  the  Lord  with 
them  into  battle,  and  the  sons  of  the  priests  go 
forth  with  it,  because  he  himself,  being  burdened 
with  years,  and  afflicted  with  blindness,  could 
not  discharge  that  duty.  But,  when  the  ark 
was  brought  within  sight  of  the  enemy,  terrified 
as  if  by  the  majesty  of  God's  presence,  they 
were  ready  to  take  to  flight.  But  again  recover- 
ing courage,  and  changing  their  minds  (not 
without  a  divine  impulse),  they  rush  into  battle 
with  their  whole  strength.  The  Hebrews  were 
conquered ;  the  ark  was  taken  ;  the  sons  of  the 
priest  fell.  Eli,  when  the  news  of  the  calamity 
was  brought  to  him,  being  overwhelmed  with 
grief,  breathed  his  last,  after  he  had  held  the 
priesthood  for  twenty 1  years. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

The  Philistines,  victorious  in  this  prosperous 
battle,  brought  the  ark  of  God,  which  had  fallen 
into  their  hands,  into  the  temple  of  Dagon  in 
the  town  of  Azotus.  But  the  image,  dedicated 
to  a  demon,  fell  down  when  the  ark  was  brought 
in  there  ;  and,  on  their  setting  the  idol  up  again 

1  The  Hebrew  text  has  forty  years. 


86 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


in  its  place,  in  the  following  night  it  was  torn  in 
pieces.  Then  mice,  springing  up  throughout  all 
the  country,  caused  by  their  venomous  bites  the 
death  of  many  thousand  persons.1  The  men  of 
Azotus,  constrained  by  this  source  of  suffering, 
in  order  to  escape  the  calamity,  removed  the  ark 
to  Gath.  But  the  people  there  being  afflicted 
with  the  same  evils,  conveyed  the  ark  to  Asca- 
lon.  The  inhabitants,  however,  of  that  place, 
the  chief  men  of  the  nation  having  been  called 
together,  formed  the  design  of  sending  back  the 
ark  to  the  Hebrews.  Thus,  in  accordance  with 
the  opinion  of  the  chiefs,  and  augurs,  and  priests, 
it  was  placed  upon  a  cart,  and  sent  back  with 
many  gifts.  This  remarkable  thing  then  hap- 
pened, that  when  they  had  yoked  heifers  to  the 
conveyance,  and  had  retained  their  calves  at 
home,  these  cattle  took  their  course,  without 
any  guide,  towards  Judasa,  and  showed  no  desire 
of  returning,  from  affection  toward  their  young 
left  behind.  The  rulers  of  the  Philistines,  who 
had  followed  the  ark  into  the  territory  of  the 
Hebrews,  were  so  struck  by  the  marvelousness 
of  this  occurrence  that  they  performed  a  relig- 
ious service.  But  the  Jews,  when  they  saw  the 
ark  brought  back,  vied  with  each  other  in  joy- 
ously rushing  forth  from  the  town  of  Betsamis  to 
meet  it,  and  in  hurrying,  exulting,  and  returning 
thanks  to  God.  Presently,  the  Levites,  whose 
business  it  was,  perform  a  sacrifice  to  God,  and 
offer  those  heifers  which  had  brought  the  ark. 
But  the  ark  could  not  be  kept  in  the  town  which 
I  have  named  above,  and  thus  severe  illness  fell, 
by  the  appointment  of  God,  upon  the  whole  city. 
The  ark  was  then  transferred  to  the  town  of 
Cariathiarim,2  and  there  it  remained  twenty 
years. 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

At  this  time,  Samuel  the  priest x  ruled  over 
the  Hebrews  ;  and  there  being  a  cessation  of  all 
war,  the  people  lived  in  peace.  But  this  tran- 
quillity was  disturbed  by  an  invasion  of  the  Phil- 
istines, and  all  ranks  were  in  a  state  of  terror 
from  their  consciousness  of  guilt.  Samuel, 
having  first  offered  sacrifice,  and  trusting  in  God, 
led  his  men  out  to  battle,  and  the  enemy  being 
routed  at  the  first  onset,  victory  declared  for  the 
Hebrews.  But  when  the  fear  of  the  enemy  was 
thus  removed,  and  affairs  were  now  prosperous 
and  peaceful,  the  people,  changing  their  views 
for  the  worse,  after  the  manner  of  the  mob,  who 
are  always  weary  of  what  they  have,  and  long 
for  things  of  which  they  have  had  no  experience, 
expressed  a  desire  for  the  kingly  name  —  a  name 

1  No  reference  to  this  occurs  in  the  Hebrew  text,  but  it  is  found 
in  the  Greek,  and  is  also  noticed  by  Josephus.  See  the  LXX. 
i  Sam.  v.  6,  and  Josephus,  Antzg.  vi.  i. 

2  Called  Kirjatk-jearitn  in  the  English  version. 
1  Samuel  was  a  Levite,  but  not  a  priest 


greatly  disliked  by  almost  all  free  nations.  Yes, 
with  an  example  of  madness  certainly  very  re- 
markable, they  now  preferred  to  exchange  liberty 
for  slavery.  They,  therefore,  come  in  great 
numbers  to  Samuel,  in  order  that,  as  he  himself 
was  now  an  old  man,  he  might  make  for  them  a 
king.  But  he  endeavored  in  a  useful  address, 
quietly  to  deter  the  people  from  their  insane 
desire  ;  he  set  forth  the  tyranny  and  haughty 
rule  of  kings,  while  he  extolled  liberty,  and  de- 
nounced slavery ;  finally,  he  threatened  them 
with  the  divine  wrath,  if  they  should  show  them- 
selves men  so  corrupt  in  mind  as  that,  when 
having  God  as  their  king,  they  should  demand 
for  themselves  a  king  from  among  men.  Hav- 
ing spoken  these  and  other  words  of  a  like  nature 
to  no  purpose,  finding  that  the  people  persisted 
in  the  determination,  he  consulted  God.  And 
God,  moved  by  the  madness  of  that  insane 
nation,  replied  that  nothing  was  to  be  refused  to 
them  asking  against  their  own  interests. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

Accordingly,  Saul,  having  been  first  anointed 
by  Samuel  with  the  sacerdotal  oil,  was  appointed 
king.  He  was  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  and  his 
father's  name  was  Kish.  He  was  modest  in 
mind,  and  of  a  singularly  handsome  figure,  so 
that  the  dignity  of  his  person  worthily  corre- 
sponded to  the  royal  dignity.  But  in  the  be- 
ginning of  his  reign,  some  portion  of  the  people 
had  revolted  from  him,  refusing  to  acknowledge 
his  authority,  and  had  joined  themselves  to 
the  Ammonites.  Saul,  however,  energetically 
wreaked  his  vengeance  on  these  people ;  the 
enemy  were  conquered,  and  pardon  was  granted 
to  the  Hebrews.  Then  Saul  is  said  to  have 
been  anointed  by  Samuel  a  second  time.  Next, 
a  bloody  war  arose  by  an  invasion  of  the 
Philistines ;  and  Saul  had  appointed  Gilgal  as 
the  place  where  his  army  was  to  assemble. 
As  they  waited  there  seven  days  for  Samuel, 
that  he  might  offer  sacrifice  to  God,  the  people 
gradually  dropped  away  owing  to  his  delay,  and 
the  king,  with  unlawful  presumption,  presented 
a  burnt-offering,  thus  taking  upon  him  the  duty 
of  a  priest.  For  this  he  was  severely  rebuked 
by  Samuel,  and  acknowledged  his  sin  with  a 
penitence  that  was  too  late.  For,  as  a  result  of 
the  king's  sin,  fear  had  pervaded  the  whole 
army.  The  camp  of  the  enemy  lying  at  no 
great  distance  showed  them  how  actual  the 
danger  was,  and  no  one  had  the  courage  to 
think  of  going  forth  to  battle  :  most  had  be- 
taken themselves  to  the  marshes.1  For  besides 
the  want  of  courage   on  the  part  of  those  who 


1  The  text  here  is  very  uncertain;   we  have  followed  the  reading 
of  Halm,  "  lamas,"  but  others  have  "  lacrimas  "  or  "  latebras." 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


87 


felt  that  God  was  alienated  from  them  on 
account  of  the  king's  sin,  the  army  was  in  the 
greatest  want  of  iron  weapons  ;  so  much  so  that 
nobody,  except  Saul  and  Jonathan  his  son,  is 
said  to  have  possessed  either  sword  or  spear. 
For  the  Philistines,  as  conquerors  in  the  former 
wars,  had  deprived  the  Hebrews  of  the  use  of 
arms,2  and  no  one  had  had  the  power  of  forging 
any  weapon  of  war,  or  even  making  any  imple- 
ment for  rural  purposes.  In  these  circum- 
stances, Jonathan,  with  an  audacious  design,  and 
with  his  armor-bearer  as  his  only  companion, 
entered  the  camp  of  the  enemy,  and  having 
slain  about  twenty  of  them,  spread  a  terror 
throughout  the  whole  army.  And  then,  through 
the  appointment  of  God,  betaking  themselves  to 
flight,  they  neither  carried  out  orders  nor  kept 
their  ranks,  but  placed  all  the  hope  of  safety  in 
flight.  Saul,  perceiving  this,  hastily  drew  forth 
his  men,  and  pursuing  the  fugitives,  obtained  a 
victory.  The  king  is  said  on  that  day  to  have 
issued  a  proclamation  that  no  one  should  help 
himself  to  food  until  the  enemy  were  destroyed. 
But  Jonathan,  knowing  nothing  of  this  prohibi- 
tion, found  a  honey-comb,  and,  dipping  the 
point  of  his  weapon  in  it,  ate  up  the  honey. 
When  that  became  known  to  the  king  through 
the  anger  of  God  which  followed,  he  ordered 
his  son  to  be  put  to  death.  But  by  the  help 
of  the  people,  he  was  saved  from  destruction. 
At  that  time,  Samuel,  being  instructed  by  God, 
went  to  the  king,  and  told  him  in  the  words 
of  God  to  make,  war  on  the  nation  of  the 
Amalekites,  who  had  of  old  hindered  the  He- 
brews when  they  were  coming  out  of  Egypt ; 
and  the  prohibition  was  added  that  they  should 
not  covet  any  of  the  spoils  of  the  conquered. 
Accordingly,  an  army  was  led  into  the  territory 
of  the  enemy,  the  king  was  taken,  and  the 
nation  subdued.  But  Saul,  unable  to  resist 
the  magnitude  of  the  spoil,  and  unmindful  of  the 
divine  injunctions,  ordered  the  booty  to  be 
saved  and  gathered  together. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

God,  displeased  with  what  had  been  done, 
spoke  to  Samuel,  saying  that  he  repented  that 
he  had  made  Saul  king.  The  priest  reports 
what  he  had  heard  to  the  king.  And  ere  long, 
being  instructed  by  God,  he  anointed  David 
with  the  royal  oil,  while  he  was  as  yet  only  a 
little  boy1  living  under  the  care  of  his  father, 
and  acting  as  a  shepherd,  while  he  was  accus- 
tomed often  to  play  upon  the  harp.  For  this 
reason,  he  was  taken  afterwards  by  Saul,  and 


2  "  Armorum  "  is  here  supplied,  but  some  prefer  "  cotis,"  accord- 
ing to  1  Sam.  xiii.  20. 

1  This  is  a  mistake :  David  was  undoubtedly  then  a  grown-up 
young  man. 


reckoned  among  the  servants  of  the  king.  And 
the  Philistines  and  Hebrews  being  at  this  time 
hotly  engaged  in  war,  as  the  armies  were  sta- 
tioned opposite  to  each  other,  a  certain  man  of 
the  Philistines  named  Goliath,  a  man  of  marvel- 
ous size  and  strength,  passing  along  the  ranks 
of  his  countrymen,  cast  insults,  in  the  fiercest 
terms,  upon  the  enemy,  and  challenged  any  one 
to  engage  in  single  combat  with  him.  Then  the 
king  promised  a  great  reward  and  his  daughter 
in  marriage  to  any  one  who  should  bring  home 
the  spoils  of  that  boaster  ;  but  no  one  out  of  so 
great  a  multitude  ventured  to  make  the  attempt. 
In  these  circumstances,  though  still  a  youth,2 
David  offered  himself  for  the  contest,  and  reject- 
ing the  arms  by  which  his  yet  tender  age  was 
weighed  down,  simply  with  a  staff  and  five  stones 
which  he  had  taken,  advanced  to  the  battle.  And 
by  the  first  blow,  having  discharged  one  of  the 
stones  from  a  sling,  he  overthrew  the  Philistine  ; 
then  he  cut  off  the  head  of  his  conquered  foe, 
carried  off  his  spoils,  and  afterwards  laid  up  his 
sword  in  the  temple.  In  the  meanwhile,  all  the 
Philistines,  turning  to  flight,  yielded  the  victory 
to  the  Hebrews.  But  the  great  favor  shown  to 
David  as  they  were  returning  from  the  battle 
excited  the  envy  of  the  king.  Fearing,  how- 
ever, that  if  he  put  to  death  one  so  beloved  by 
all,  that  might  give  rise  to  hatred  against  himself 
and  prove  disastrous,  he  resolved,  under  an 
appearance  of  doing  him  honor,  to  expose  him 
to  danger.  First  then  he  made  him  a  captain, 
that  he  might  be  charged  with  the  affairs  of  war ; 
and  next,  although  he  had  promised  him  his 
daughter,  he  broke  his  word,  and  gave  her  to 
another.  Ere  long,  a  younger  daughter  of  the 
king,  Melchol  by  name,  fell  violently  in  love 
with  David.  Accordingly,  Saul  sets  before 
David  as  the  condition  of  obtaining  her  in  mar- 
riage the  following  proposal  :  that  if  he  should 
bring  in  a  hundred  foreskins  of  the  enemy,  the 
royal  maiden  would  be  given  him  in  marriage  ; 
for  he  hoped  that  the  youth,  venturing  on  so 
great  dangers,  would  probably  perish.  But  the 
result  proved  very  different  from  what  he  im- 
agined, for  David,  according  to  the  proposal 
made  to  him,  speedily  brought  in  a  hundred 
foreskins  of  the  Philistines  ;  and  thus  he  ob- 
tained the  daughter  of  the  king  in  marriage. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

The  hatred  of  the  king  towards  him  increased 
daily,  under  the  influence  of  jealousy,  for  the 
wicked  always  persecute  the  good.  He,  there- 
fore, commanded  his  servants  and  Jonathan  his 
son,  to  prepare  snares  against  his  life.  But 
Jonathan  had   even  from  the  first  had  a  great 

'"Puer":   another  mistake. 


88 


THE   WRITINGS    OF   SULPITIUS   SEVERUS. 


regard  and  affection  for  David ;  and  therefore 
the  king,  being  taken  to  task  by  his  son,  sup- 
pressed the  cruel  order  he  had  given.  But  the 
wicked  are  not  long  good.  For,  when  Saul  was 
afflicted  by  a  spirit  of  error,  and  David  stood  by 
him,  soothing  him  with  the  harp  under  his 
trouble,  Saul  tried  to  pierce  him  with  a  spear, 
and  would  have  done  so,  had  not  he  rapidly 
evaded  the  deadly  blow.  From  this  time  forth, 
the  king  no  longer  secretly  but  openly  sought  to 
compass  his  death;  and  David  no  longer  trusted 
himself  in  his  power.  He  fled,  and  first  betook 
himself  to  Samuel,  then  to  Abimelech,  and  finally 
fled  to  the  king  of  Moab.  By-and-by,  under 
the  instructions  of  the  prophet  Gad,  he  returned 
into  the  land  of  Judah,  and  there  ran  in  danger 
of  his  life.  At  that  time,  Saul  slew  Abimelech 
the  priest  because  he  had  received  David  ;  and 
when  none  of  the  king's  servants  ventured  to  lay 
hands  upon  the  priest,  Doeg,  the  Syrian,  fulfilled 
the  cruel  duty.  After  that,  David  made  for  the 
desert.  Thither  Saul  also  followed  him,  but  his 
efforts  at  his  destruction  were  in  vain,  for  God 
protected  him.  There  was  a  cave  in  the  desert, 
opening  with  a  vast  recess.  David  had  thrown 
himself  into  the  inner  parts  of  this  cave.  Saul, 
not  knowing  that  he  was  there,  had  gone  into  it 
for  the  purpose  of  taking1  bodily  refreshment, 
and  there,  overcome  by  sleep,  he  was  resting. 
When  David  perceived  this,  although  all  urged 
him  to  avail  himself  of  the  opportunity,  he 
abstained  from  slaying  the  king,  and  simply  took 
away  his  mantle.  Presently  going  out,  he  ad- 
dressed the  king  from  a  safe  position  behind, 
recounting  the  services  he  had  done  him,  how 
often  he  had  exposed  his  life  to  peril  for  the 
sake  of  the  kingdom,  and  how  last  of  all,  he  had 
not,  on  the  present  occasion,  sought  to  kill  him 
when  he  was  given  over  to  him  by  God.  Upon 
hearing  these  things,  Saul  confessed  his  fault, 
entreated  pardon,  shed  tears,  extolled  the  piety 
of  David,  and  blamed  his  own  wickedness,  while 
he  addressed  David  as  king  and  son.  He  was 
so  much  changed  from  his  former  ferocious 
character,  that  no  one  could  now  have  thought 
he  would  make  any  further  attempt  against  his 
son-in-law.  But  David,  who  had  thoroughly2 
tested  and  known  his  evil  disposition,  did  not 
think  it  safe  to  put  himself  in  the  power  of  the 
king,  and  kept  himself  within  the  desert.  Saul, 
almost  mad  with  rage,  because  he  was  unable  to 
capture  his  son-in-law,  gave  in  marriage  to  one 
Faltim  his  daughter  Melchol,  who,  as  we  have 
related  above,  had  been  married  to  David. 
David  fled  to  the  Philistines. 


1  "  Reficiendi  corporis  gratia":    different  from  the  Hebrew  'ext. 

2  The  text  is  uncertain,  but  the  meaning  is  clear. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

At  that  time  Samuel  died.  Saul,  when  the 
Philistines  made  war  upon  him,  consulted  God, 
and  no  answer  was  returned  to  him.  Then,  by 
means  of  a  woman  whose  entrails  a  spirit  of 
error1  had  filled,  he  called  up  and  consulted 
Samuel.  Saul  was  informed  by  him  that  on  the 
following  day  he  with  his  sons,  being  overcome 
by  the  Philistines,  would  fall  in  the  battle.  The 
Philistines,  accordingly,  having  pitched  their 
camp  on  the  enemy's  territory,  drew  up  their 
army  in  battle  array  on  the  following  day,  David, 
however,  being  sent  away  from  the  camp, 
because  they  did  not  believe  that  he  would  be 
faithful  to  them  against  his  own  people.  But 
the  battle  taking  place,  the  Hebrews  were  routed 
and  the  sons  of  the  king  fell ;  Saul,  having  sunk 
down  from  his  horse,  that  he  might  not  be  taken 
alive  by  the  enemy,  fell  on  his  own  sword.  We 
do  not  find  any  certain  statements  as  to  the 
length  of  his  reign,  unless  that  he  is  said  in  the 
Acts  of  the  Apostles  to  have  reigned  forty 
years.  As  to  this,  however,  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  Paul,  who  made  the  statement  in  his 
preaching,  then  meant  to  include  also  the  years 
of  Samuel  under  the  length  of  that  king's  reign.2 
Most  of  those,  however,  who  have  written  about 
these  times,  remark  that  he  reigned  thirty  years. 
I  can,  by  no  means,  agree  with  this  opinion,  for 
at  the  time  when  the  ark  of  God  was  transferred 
to  the  town  of  Cariathiarim,  Saul  had  not  yet 
begun  to  reign,  and  it  is  related  that  the  ark 
was  removed  by  David  the  king  out  of  that  town 
after  it  had  been  there  twenty  years.  There- 
fore, since  Saul  reigned  and  died  within  that 
period,  he  must  have  held  the  government  only 
for  a  very  brief  space  of  time.  We  find  the 
same  obscurity  concerning  the  times  of  Samuel, 
who,  having  been  born  under  the  priesthood  of 
Eli,  is  related,  when  very  old,  to  have  fulfilled 
the  duties  of  a  priest.  By  some,  however,  who 
have  written  about  these  times  (for  the  sacred 
history  has  recorded  almost  nothing  about  his 
years),3  but  by  most  he  is  said  to  have  ruled  the 
people  seventy  years.  I  have,  however,  been 
unable  to  discover  what  authority  there  is  for 
this  assumption.  Amid  such  variety  of  error, 
we  have  followed  the  account  of  the  Chronicles,4 
because  we  think  that  it  was  taken  (as  said 
above)  from  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  we 
repeat  that  Samuel  and  Saul  together  held  the 
government  for  forty  years. 


1  The  witch  of  Endor  seems  here  to  be  referred  to  as  if  she  had 
practised  ventriloquism,  this  being  regarded  as  a  form  of  demoniacal 
possession. 

2  See  Alford  on  Acts  xiii.  21. 

8  Halm  here  inserts  the  usual  mark  of  a  lacuna  in  the  text : 
others  omit  the  words  "  a  plerisque  autem." 

4  He  here  specially  refers  to  the  well-known  Chronicles  of 
Eusebius,  which  were  translated  into  Latin,  and  supplemented  by 
Saint  Jerome. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY  OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


89 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Saul  having  thus  been  cut  off,  David,  when  the 
news  of  his  death  was  brought  to  him  in  the  land 
of  the  Philistines,  is  related  to  have  wept,  and 
to  have  given  a  marvelous  proof  of  his  affection. 
He  then  betook  himself  to  Hebron,  a  town  of 
Judaea ;  and,  being  there  again  anointed  with 
the  royal  oil,  received  the  title  of  king.  But 
Abenner,  who  had  been  master  of  the  host  of 
King  Saul,  despised  David,  and  made  Isbaal 
king,  the  son  of  King  Saul.  Various  battles 
then  took  place  between  the  generals  of  the 
kings.  Abenner  was  generally  routed ;  yet  in 
his  flight  he  cut  off  the  brother  of  Joab,  who 
had  the  command  of  the  army  on  the  side  of 
David.  Joab,  on  account  of  the  sorrow  he  felt 
for  this,  afterwards,  when  Abenner  had  surren- 
dered to  King  David,  ordered  him  to  be  mur- 
dered, not  without  regret  on  the  part  of  the 
king,  whose  honor  he  had  thus  tarnished.  At 
the  same  time,  almost  all  the  older  men  of  the 
Hebrews  conferred  on  him  by  public  consent 
the  sovereignty  of  the  whole  nation ;  for  during 
seven  years  he  had  reigned  only  in  Hebron. 
Thus,  he  was  anointed  king  for  the  third  time, 
being  about  thirty  years  of  age.  He  repulsed 
in  successful  battles  the  Philistines  making  in- 
roads upon  his  kingdom.  And  at  that  time,  he 
transferred  to  Zion  the  ark  of  God,  which,  as  I 
have  said  above,  was  in  the  town  of  Cariathiarim. 
And  when  he  had  formed  the  intention  of  build- 
ing a  temple  to  God,  the  divine  answer  was 
given  him  to  the  effect,  that  that  was  reserved 
for  his  son.  He  then  conquered  the  Philistines 
in  war,  subjugated  the  Moabites,  and  subdued 
Syria,  imposing  tribute  upon  it.  He  brought 
back  with  him  an  enormous  amount  of  booty  in 
gold  and  brass.  Next,  a  war  arose  against  the 
Ammonites  on  account  of  the  injury  which  had 
been  done  by  their  king,  Annon.  And  when 
the  Syrians  again  rebelled,  having  formed  a  con- 
federacy for  war  with  the  Ammonites,  David 
intrusted  the  chief  command  of  the  war  to 
Joab,  the  master  of  his  host,  and  he  himself 
remained  in  Jerusalem  far  from  the  scene  of 
strife. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

At  this  time,  he  knew  in  a  guilty  way  Bersabe, 
a  woman  of  remarkable  beauty.  She  is  said  to 
have  been  the  wife  of  a  certain  man  called 
Uriah,  who  was  then  in  the  camp.  David  caused 
him  to  be  slain  by  exposing  him  to  the  enemy 
at  a  dangerous  place  in  the  battle.  In  this  way, 
he  added  to  the  number  of  his  wives  the  woman 
who  was  now  free  from  the  bond  of  marriage, 
but  who  was  already  pregnant  through  adultery. 


Then  David,  after  being  severely  reproved  by 
Nathan  the  prophet,  although  he  confessed  his 
sin,  did  not  escape  the  punishment  of  God. 
For  he  lost  in  a  few  days  the  son  who  was  born 
from  the  clandestine  connection,  and  many 
terrible  things  happened  in  respect  to  his  house 
and  family.  At  last  his  son  Absalom  lifted  im- 
pious arms  against  his  father,  with  the  desire  of 
driving  him  from  the  throne.  Joab  encountered 
him  in  the  field  of  battle,  and  the  king  entreated 
him  to  spare  the  young  man  when  conquered ; 
but  he,  disregarding  this  command,  avenged 
with  the  sword  his  parricidal  attempts.  That 
victory  is  said  to  have  been  a  mournful  one  to 
the  king  :  so  great  was  his  natural  affection  that 
he  wished  even  his  parricidal  son  to  be  forgiven. 
This  war  seemed  hardly  finished  when  another 
arose,  under  a  certain  general  called  Sabaea, 
who  had  stirred  up  all  the  wicked  to  arms. 
But  the  whole  commotion  was  speedily  checked 
by  the  death  of  the  leader.  David  then  engaged 
in  several  battles  against  the  Philistines  with 
favorable  results  ;  and  all  being  subdued  by  war, 
both  foreign  and  home  disturbances  having  been 
brought  to  accord,  he  possessed  in  peace  a  most 
flourishing  kingdom.  Then  a  sudden  desire 
seized  him  of  numbering  the  people,  in  order  to 
ascertain  the  strength  of  his  empire  ;  and  accord- 
ingly they  were  numbered  by  Joab,  the  master 
of  the  host,  and  were  found  to  amount  to  one 
million  three  hundred  thousand  *  citizens.  David 
soon  regretted  and  repented  of  this  proceeding, 
and  implored  pardon  of  God  for  having  lifted 
up  his  thoughts  to  this,  that  he  should  reckon 
the  power  of  his  kingdom  rather  by  the  multi- 
tude of  his  subjects  than  by  the  divine  favor. 
Accordingly,  an  angel  was  sent  to  him  to  reveal 
to  him  a  threefold  punishment,  and  to  give  him 
the  power  of  choosing  either  one  or  another. 
Well,  when  a  famine  for  three  years  was  set 
before  him,  and  flight  before  his  enemies  for 
three  months,  and  a  pestilence  for  three  days, 
shunning  both  flight  and  famine,  he  made  choice 
of  pestilence,  and,  almost  in  a  moment  of  time, 
seventy  thousand  men  perished.  Then  David, 
beholding  the  angel  by  whose  right  hand  the 
people  were  overthrown,  implored  pardon,  and 
offered  himself  singly  to  punishment  instead  of 
all,  saying  that  he  deserved  destruction  inasmuch 
as  it  was  he  who  had  sinned.  Thus,  the  punish- 
ment of  the  people  was  turned  aside  ;  and  David 
built  an  altar  to  God  on  the  spot  where  he  had 
beheld  the  angel.  After  this,  having  become 
infirm  through  years  and  illness,  he  appointed 
Solomon,  who  had  been  born  to  him  by  Bersabe, 
the  wife  of  Uriah,  his  successor  in  the  kingdom. 
He,  having  been  anointed  with  the   royal  oil  by 


1  As  is  often  the  case  with  respect  to  numbers,  there  are  discrep' 
ancies  in  the  various  accounts  given  of  this  census. 


go 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


Sadoc  the  priest,  received  the  title  of  king, 
while  his  father  was  still  alive.  David  died, 
after  he  had  reigned  forty  years. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Solomon  in  the  beginning  of  his  reign  sur- 
rounded the  city  with  a  wall.  To  him  while 
asleep  God  appeared  standing  by  him,  and  gave 
him  the  choice  of  whatever  things  he  desired. 
But  he  asked  that  nothing  more  than  wisdom 
should  be  granted  him,  deeming  all  other  things 
of  little  value.  Accordingly,  when  he  arose  from 
sleep,  taking  his  stand  before  the  sanctuary  of 
God,  he  gave  a  proof  of  the  wisdom  which  had 
been  bestowed  upon  him  by  God.  For  two  women 
who  dwelt  in  one  house,  having  given  birth  to 
male  children  at  the  same  time,  and  one  of  these 
having  died  in  the  night  three  days  afterwards, 
the  mother  of  the  dead  child,  while  the  other 
woman  slept,  insidiously  substituted  her  child, 
and  took  away  the  living  one.  Then  there  arose 
an  altercation  between  them,  and  the  matter 
was  at  length  brought  before  the  king.  As  no 
witness  was  forthcoming,  it  was  a  difficult  matter 
to  give  a  judgment  between  both  denying  guilt. 
Then  Solomon,  in  the  exercise  of  his  gift  of 
divine  wisdom,  ordered  the  child  to  be  slain, 
and  its  body  to  be  divided  between  the  two 
doubtful  claimants.  Well,  when  one  of  them 
acquiesced  in  this  judgment,  but  the  other 
wished  rather  to  give  up  the  boy  than  that  he 
should  be  cut  in  pieces,  Solomon,  concluding 
from  the  feeling  displayed  by  this  woman  that 
she  was  the  true  mother,  adjudged  the  child  to 
her.  The  bystanders  could  not  repress  their 
admiration  at  this  decision,  since  he  had  in  such 
a  way  brought  out  the  hidden  truth  by  his  sa- 
gacity. Accordingly,  the  kings  of  the  neighbor- 
ing nations,  out  of  admiration  for  his  ability  and 
wisdom,  courted  his  friendship  and  alliance, 
being  prepared  to  carry  out  his  commands. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Trusting  in  these  resources,  Solomon  set 
about  erecting  a  temple  of  immense  size  to  God, 
funds  for  the  purpose  having  been  got  together 
during  three  years,  and  laid  the  foundation  of 
it  about  the  fourth  year  of  his  reign.  This  was 
about  the  five  hundred  and  eighty-eighth  year 
after  the  departure  of  the  Hebrews  from  Egypt, 
although  in  the  third  Book  of  Kings  the  years 
are  reckoned  at  four  hundred  and  forty.1  This 
is  by  no  means  accurate  ;  for  it  would  have  been 
more  likely  that,  in  the  order  of  dates  I  have 


1  Here,  again,  there  is  much  discrepancy  in  the  accounts. 


given  above,  I  should  perhaps  reckon  fewei 
years  than  more.  But  I  do  not  doubt  that  the 
truth  had  been  falsified  by  the  carelessness  of 
copyists,  especially  since  so  many  ages  inter- 
vened, rather  than  that  the  sacred  -  writer  erred. 
In  the  same  way,  in  the  case  of  this  little  work 
of  ours,  we  believe  it  will  happen  that,  through 
the  negligence  of  transcribers,  those  things  which 
have  been  put  together,  not  without  care  on  our 
part,  should  be  corrupted.  Well,  then,  Solomon 
finished  his  work  of  building  the  temple  in  the 
twentieth  year  from  its  commencement.  Then, 
having  offered  sacrifice  in  that  place,  as  well  as 
uttered  a  prayer,  by  which  he  blessed  the  people 
and  the  temple,  God  spoke  to  him,  declaring 
that,  if  at  any  time  they  should  sin  and  forsake 
God,  their  temple  should  be  razed  to  the  ground. 
We  see  that  this  has  a  long  time  ago  been  ful- 
filled, and  in  due  time  we  shall  set  forth  the 
connected  order  of  events.  In  the  meantime, 
Solomon  abounded  in  wealth,  and  was,  in  fact, 
the  richest  of  all  the  kings  that  ever  lived.  But, 
as  always  takes  place  in  such  circumstances,  he 
sunk  from  wealth  into  luxury  and  vice,  forming 
marriages  (in  spite  of  the  prohibition  of  God) 
with  foreign  women,  until  he  had  seven  hundred 
wives,  and  three  hundred  concubines.  As  a 
consequence,  he  set  up  idols  for  them,  after  the 
manner  of  their  nations,  to  which  they  might 
offer  sacrifice.  God,  turned  away  from  him  by 
such  doings,  reproved  him  sharply,  and  made 
known  to  him  as  a  punishment,  that  the  greater 
part  of  his  kingdom  would  be  taken  from  his 
son,  and  given  to  a  servant.  And  that  happened 
accordingly. 


CHAPTER   XLI. 

For,  on  the  death  of  Solomon  in  the  fortieth 
year  of  his  reign,  Roboam  his  son  having  suc- 
ceeded to  the  throne  of  his  father  in  the  sixteenth 
year  of  his  age,  a  portion  of  the  people,  taking 
offense,  revolted  from  him.  For,  having  asked 
that  the  very  heavy  tribute  which  Solomon  had 
imposed  upon  them  might  be  lessened,  he  re- 
jected the  entreaties  of  these  suppliants,  and 
thus  alienated  from  him  the  favor  of  the  whole 
people.  Accordingly,  by  universal  consent,  the 
government  was  bestowed  on  Jeroboam.  He, 
sprung  from  a  family  of  middle  rank,  had  for 
some  time  been  in  the  service  of  Solomon.  But 
when  the  king  found  that  the  sovereignty  of  the 
Hebrews  had  been  promised  to  him  by  a  re- 
sponse of  the  prophet  Achia,  he  had  resolved 
privately  to  cut  him  off.  Jeroboam,  under  the 
influence  of  this  fear,  fled  into  Egypt,  and  there 
married  a  wife  of  the  royal  family.  But,  when 
at  length  he  heard  of  the  death  of  Solomon,  he 


"  Propheta.' 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


91 


returned  to  his  native  land,  and,  by  the  wish  of 
the  people,  as  we  have  said  above,  he  assumed 
the  government.  Two  tribes,  however,  Judah 
and  Benjamin,  had  remained  under  the  sway  of 
Roboam ;  and  from  these  he  got  ready  an  army 
of  thirty  thousand  men.  But  when  the  two  hosts 
advanced,  the  people  were  instructed  by  the 
words  of  God  to  abstain  from  fighting,  for  that 
Jeroboam  had  received  the  kingdom  by  divine 
appointment.  Thus  the  army  disdained  the 
command  of  the  king,  and  dispersed,  while  the 
power  of  Jeroboam  was  increased.  But,  since 
Roboam  held  Jerusalem,  where  the  people  had 
been  accustomed  to  offer  sacrifice  to  God  in  the 
temple  built  by  Solomon,  Jeroboam,  fearing  lest 
their  religious  feelings  might  alienate  the  people 
from  him,  resolved  to  fill  their  minds  with  super- 
stition. Accordingly,  he  set  up  one  golden  calf 
at  Bethel,  and  another  at  Dan,  to  which  the 
people  might  offer  sacrifice  ;  and,  passing  by  the 
tribe  of  Levi,  he  appointed  priests  from  among 
the  people.  But  censure  followed  this  guilt 
so  hateful  to  God.  Frequent  battles  then  took 
place  between  the  kings,  and  so  they  retained 
their  respective  kingdoms  on  doubtful  condi- 
tions. Roboam  died  at  the  close  of  the  seven- 
teenth year  of  his  reign. 


CHAPTER   XLII. 

In  his  room  Abiud  his  son  held  the  kingdom 
at  Jerusalem  for  six  years,  although  he  is  said  in 
the  Chronicles l  to  have  reigned  three  years. 
Asab  his  son  succeeded  him,  being  the  fifth 
from  David,  as  he  was  his  great-great-grandson. 
He  was  a  pious  worshiper  of  God ;  for,  de- 
stroying the  altars  and  the  groves  of  the  idols,  he 
removed  the  traces  of  his  father's  faithlessness. 
He  formed  an  alliance  with  die  king  of  Syria, 
and  by  his  help  inflicted  much  loss  on  the  king- 
dom of  Jeroboam,  which  was  then  held  by  his 
son,  and  often,  after  conquering  the  enemy, 
carried  off  spoil  as  the  result  of  victory.  After 
forty-one  years  he  died,  afflicted  with  disease  in 
his  feet.  To  him  sin  of  a  three-fold  kind  is 
ascribed ;  first,  that  he  trusted  too  much  to  his 
alliance  with  the  king  of  Syria ;  secondly,  that 
he  cast  into  prison  a  prophet  of  God  who 
rebuked  him  for  this  ;  and  thirdly,  that,  when 
suffering  from  disease  in  his  feet,  he  sought  a 
remedy,  not  from  God,  but  from  the  physicians. 
In  the  beginning  of  his  reign  died  Jeroboam, 
king  of  the  ten  tribes,  and  left  his  throne  to  his 
son  Nabath.  He,  from  his  wicked  works,  and, 
both  by  his  own  and  his 2  father's  doings,  hateful 
to  God,  did  not  possess  the  kingdom  more  than 
two  years,  and  his  children,  as  being  unworthy, 

1  The  Chronictm  of  Eusebius  is  referred  to. 

2  Many  editors  here  read  "  maternis,"  instead  of  "  paternis." 


were  deprived"'  of  the  government.  He  had 
for  his  successor  Baasa,  the  son  of  Achia,  and 
he  proved  himself  equally  estranged  from  God. 
He  died  in  the  twenty-sixth  year  of  his  reign  : 
and  his  power  passed  to  Ela  his  son,  but  was 
not  retained  more  than  two  years.  For  Zam- 
bri,  leader  of  his  cavalry,  killed  him  at  a  ban- 
quet, and  seized  the  kingdom,  —  a  man  equally 
odious  to  God  and  men.  A  portion  of  the 
people  revolted  from  him,  and  the  royal  power 
was  conferred  on  one  Thamnis.  But  Zambri 
reigned  before  him  seven  years,  and  at  the  same 
time  with  him  twelve  years.  And,  on  the  death 
of  Asab,  Josaphat  his  son  began  to  reign  over 
part  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  a  man  deservedly 
famous  for  his  pious  virtues.  He  lived  at  peace 
with  Zambri ;  and  he  died,  after  a  reign  of 
twenty-five  years. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

In  the  time  of  his  reign,  Ahab,  the  son  of 
Ambri,  was  king  of  the  ten  tribes,  impious  above 
all  against  God.  For  having  taken  in  marriage 
Jezebel,  the  daughter  of  Basa,  king  of  Sidon,  he 
erected  an  altar  and  groves  to  the  idol  Bahal, 
and  slew  the  prophets  of  God.  At  this  time, 
Elijah  the  prophet  by  prayer  shut  up  heaven, 
that  it  should  not  give  any  rain  to  the  earth,  and 
revealed  that  to  the  king,  in  order  that  he,  in 
his  impiety,  might  know  himself  to  be  the  cause 
of  the  evil.  The  waters  of  heaven,  therefore, 
being  restrained,  and  since  the  whole  country, 
burned  up  by  the  heat  of  the  sun,  did  not 
furnish  food  either  for  man  or  beast,  the  prophet 
had  even  exposed  himself  to  the  side  of  perish- 
ing from  hunger.  At  that  time,  when  he  betook 
himself  to  the  desert,  he  depended  for  life  on 
the  ravens  furnishing  him  with  food,  while  a 
neighboring  rivulet  furnished  him  with  water, 
until  it  was  dried  up.  Then,  being  instructed 
by  God,  he  went  to  the  town  of  Saraptas,  and 
turned  aside  to  lodge  with  a  widow-woman. 
And  when,  in  his  hunger,  he  begged  food  from 
her,  she  complained  that  she  had  only  a  handful 
of  meal  and  a  little  oil,  on  the  consumption  of 
which  she  expected  death  along  with  her  chil- 
dren.1 But  when  Elijah  promised  in  the  words 
of  God  that  neither  should  the  meal  lessen  in 
the  barrel  nor  the  oil  in  the  vessel,  the  woman 
did  not  hesitate  to  believe  the  prophet  demand- 
ing faith,  and  obtained  -  the  fulfillment  of  what 
was  promised,  since  by  daily  increase  as  much 


3  It  is  remarkable,  as  Hornius  has  observed  after  Ligonius,  that, 
while  in  the  kingdom  of  Judah  the  sovereignty  remained  in  the 
same  family,  in  the  kingdom  of  Ephraim  the  scepter  was  hardly 
ever  transmitted  to  son  or  grandson. 

1  "Cum  filiis":  after  the  Greek;  the  Hebrew  text  speaks  of 
only  one  son. 

-  Such  seems  clearly  to  be  the  meaning  of  the  somewhat  strange 
phrase,  "  promissorum  fidem  consecuta  est." 


92 


THE   WRITINGS   OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


was  added  as  was  day  by  day  taken  away.  At 
the  same  time,  Elijah  restored  to  life  the  dead 
son  of  the  same  widow.  Then,  by  the  command 
of  God,  he  went  to  the  king,  and  having  re- 
proved his  impiety,  he  ordered  all  the  people  to 
be  gathered  together  to  himself.  When  these 
had  hastily  assembled,  the  priests  of  the  idols 
and  of  the  groves  to  the  number  of  about  four 
hundred  and  fifty,  were  also  summoned.  Then 
there  arose  a  dispute  between  them,  Elijah  set- 
ting forth  the  honor  of  God,  while  they  upheld 
their  own  superstitions.  At  length  they  agreed 
that  a  trial  should  be  made  to  this  effect,  that, 
if  fire  sent  down  from  heaven  should  consume 
the  slain  victim  of  either  of  them,  that  religion 
should  be  accepted  as  the  true  one  which  per- 
formed the  miracle.  Accordingly,  the  priests, 
having  slain  a  calf,  began  to  call  upon  the  idol 
Bahal ;  and,  after  wasting  their  invocations  to 
no  purpose,  they  tacitly  acknowledged  the  help- 
lessness of  their  God.  Then  Elijah  mocked 
them  and  said,  "  Cry  aloud  more  vehemently, 
lest  perchance  he  sleeps,  and  that  thus  you  may 
rouse  him  from  the  slumber  in  which  he  is  sunk." 
The  wretched  men  could  do  nothing  but  shudder 
and  mutter  to  themselves,  but  still  they  waited 
to  see  what  Elijah  would  do.  Well,  he  slew  a 
calf  and  laid  it  upon  the  altar,  having  first  of  all 
filled  the  sacred  place  with  water ;  and  then, 
calling  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord,  fire  fell  from 
heaven  in  the  sight  of  all,  and  consumed  alike 
the  water  and  the  victim.  Then  truly  the  peo- 
ple, casting  themselves  upon  the  earth,  confessed 
God  and  execrated  the  idols  ;  while  finally,  by 
the  command  of  Elijah,  the  impious  priests  were 
seized,  and,  being  brought  down  to  the  brook, 
were  there  slain.  The  prophet  followed  the 
king  as  he  returned  from  that  place  ;  but  as 
Jezebel,  the  wife  of  the  king,  was  devising  means 
for  taking  his  life,  he  retired  to  a  more  remote 
spot.  There  God  addressed  him,  telling  him 
that  there  were  still  seven  thousand  men  who 
had  not  given  themselves  up  to  idols.  That  was 
to  Elijah  a  marvelous  statement,  for  he  had 
supposed  that  he  himself  was  the  only  one  who 
had  kept  free  from  impiety. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

At  that  time,  Ahab,  king  of  Samaria,  coveted 
the  vineyard  of  Naboth,  which  was  adjacent  to 
his  own.  And  as  Naboth  was  unwilling  to  sell 
it  to  him,  he  was  cut  off  by  the  wiles  of  Jezebel. 
Thus  Ahab  got  possession  of  the  vineyard, 
though  he  is  said  at  the  same  time  to  have 
regretted  the  death  of  Naboth.  Acknowledging 
his  crime,  he  is  related  to  have  done  1  penance 
clothed  in  sackcloth  ;  and  in  this  wav  he  turned 


Egisse  paenitentiam." 


aside  threatening  punishment.  For  the  king  of 
Syria  with  a  great  army,  having  formed  a  military 
confederacy  with  thirty-two  kings,  entered  the 
territories  of  Samaria,  and  began  to  besiege  the 
city  with  its  king.  The  affairs  of  the  besieged 
being  then  in  a  state  of  great  distress,  the  Syrian 
king  offers  these  conditions  in  the  war,  —  if  they 
should  give  up  their  gold  and  silver  and  women, 
he  would  spare  their  lives.  But,  with  such  in- 
iquitous conditions  offered,  it  seemed  better  to 
suffer  the  greatest  extremities.  And  now  when 
the  safety  of  all  was  despaired  of,  a  prophet  sent 
by  God  went  to  the  king,  encouraged  him  to 
go  forth  to  battle,  and  when  he  hesitated, 
strengthened  his  confidence  in  many  ways.  Ac- 
cordingly making  a  sally,  the  enemy  were  routed, 
and  an  abundant  store  of  booty  was  secured. 
But;  after  a  year,  the  Syrian  king  returned  with 
recruited  strength  into  Samaria,  burning  to 
avenge  the  defeat  he  had  received,  but  was 
again  overthrown.  In  that  battle  one  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  of  the  Syrians  perished  ; 
the  king  was  pardoned,  and  his  kingdom  and 
former  position  were  granted  him.  Then  Ahab 
was  reproved  by  the  prophet  in  the  words  of 
God,  for  having  abused  the  divine  kindness,  and 
spared  the  enemy  delivered  up  to  him.  The 
Syrian  king,  therefore,  after  three  years,  made 
war  upon  the  Hebrews.  Against  him  Ahab, 
under  the  advice  of  some  false  prophet,  went 
forth  to  battle,  having  spurned  the  words  of 
Michea  the  prophet  and  cast  him  into  prison, 
because  the  prophet  had  warned  him  that  the 
fight  would  prove  disastrous  to  him.  Thus, 
then,  Ahab,  being  slain  in  that  battle,  left  the 
kingdom  to  his  son  Ochozia. 


CHAPTER   XLV. 

He  being  sick  in  body,  and  having  sent  some 
of  his  servants  to  consult  an  idol  about  his 
recovery,  Elijah,  as  instructed  by  God,  met  them 
in  the  way,  and,  after  rebuking  them  ordered 
them  to  inform  the  king  that  his  death  would 
follow  from  that  disease.  Then  the  king 
ordered  him  to  be  seized  and  brought  into  his 
presence,  but  those  who  were  sent  for  this  pur- 
pose were  consumed  by  fire  from  heaven.  The 
king  died,  as  the  prophet  had  predicted.  To 
him  there  succeeded  his  brother  Joram  ;  and  he 
held  the  government  for  the  space  of  twelve 
years.  But  on  the  side  of  the  two  tribes,  Josa- 
phat  the  king  having  died,  Joram  his  son  pos- 
sessed the  kingdom  for  eighteen  years.  He  had 
the  daughter  of  Ahab  to  wife,  and  proved  him- 
self more  like  his  father-in-law  than  his  father. 
After  him,  Ochozias  his  son  obtained  the  king- 
dom. During  his  reign,  Elijah  is  related  to  have 
been  taken  up  to  heaven.     At  the  same  time, 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


93 


Elisha  his  disciple  showed  himself  powerful  by 
working  many  miracles,  which  are  all  too  well 
known  to  need  any  description  from  my  pen.  By 
him  the  son  of  a  widow  was  restored  to  life,  a 
leper  of  Syria  was  cleansed,  at  a  time  of  famine 
abundance  of  all  things  was  brought  into  the  city 
by  the  enemy  having  been  put  to  flight,  water 
was  furnished  for  the  use  of  three  armies,  and 
from  a  little  oil  the  debt  of  a  woman  was  paid 
by  the  oil  being  immensely  multiplied,  and  suffi- 
cient means  for  a  livelihood  was  provided  for 
herself.  In  his  times,  as  we  have  said,  Ochozia 
was  king  of  the  two  tribes,  while  Joram,  as  we 
have  related  above,  ruled  over  the  ten ;  and  an 
alliance  was  formed  between  them.  For  war 
was  carried  on  by  them  with  combined  forces 
both  against  the  Syrians/and  against  Jeu,  who 
had  been  anointed  by  the  prophet  as  king  of 
the  ten  tribes ;  and  having  gone  forth  to  battle 
in  company,  they  both  perished  in  the  same 
fight. 


CHAPTER   XLVI. 

But  Jeu  possessed  the  kingdom  of  Joram. 
After  the  death  of  Ochozia  in  Judaea,  when  he 
had  reigned  one  year,  his  mother,  Gotholiah, 
seized  the  supreme  power,  having  deprived  her 
grandson  (whose  name  was  Joas)  of  the  gov- 
ernment, he  being  at  the  time  but  a  little  child. 
But  the  power  thus  snatched  from  him  by  his 
grandmother  was,  after  eight  years,  restored  to 
him  through  means  of  the  priests  and  people, 
while  his  grandmother  was  driven  into  exile. 
He,  at  the  beginning  of  his  reign,  was  most  de- 
voted to  the  divine  worship,  and  embellished 
the  temple  at  great  expense ;  afterwards,  how- 
ever, being  corrupted  by  the  flattery  of  the 
chief  men,  and  unduly  honored  by  them,  he 
incurred  wrath.  For  Azahel,  king  of  Syria, 
made  war  upon  him ;  and,  as  things  went  badly 
with  him,  he  purchased  peace  with  the  gold  of 
the  temple.  He  did  not,  however,  obtain  it ; 
but  through  resentment  for  what  he  had  done, 
he  was  slain  by  his  own  people  in  the  fortieth 
year  of  his  reign.  He  was  succeeded  by  his  son 
Amassia.  But,  on  the  side  of  the  ten  tribes, 
Jeu  having  died,  Joachas  his  son  began  to  reign, 
displeasing  to  God  on  account  of  his  wicked 
works,  in  punishment  of  which  his  kingdom  was 
ravaged  by  the  Syrians,  until,  through  the  mercy 
of  God,  the  enemy  was  driven  back,  and  the 
inhabitants  of  the  land  began  to  occupy  their 
former  position.  Joachas,  having  ended  his 
days,  left  the  kingdom  to  his  son  Joa.  He 
raised  civil  war  against  Amassia,  king  of  the  two 
tribes  ;  and,  having  obtained  the  victory,  con- 
veyed much  spoil  into  his  own  kingdom.  That 
is    related    to  have   occurred   to   Amassia   as   a 


punishment  of  his  sin,  for,  having  entered  as 
a  conqueror  the  territories  of  the  Idumaeans,  he 
had  adopted  the  idols  of  that  nation.  He  is 
described  as  having  reigned  nine  years,  so  far 
as  I  find  it  stated  in  the  Books  of  Kings.  But 
in  the  Chronicles  '  of  Scripture,  as  well  as  in  the 
Chronicles 2  of  Eusebius,  he  is  affirmed  to  have 
held  the  government  twenty-nine  years ;  and 
the  mode  of  reckoning  which  may  easily  be 
perceived  in  these  Books  of  Kings  undoubtedly 
leads  to  that  conclusion.  For  Jeroboam  is  said 
to  have  begun  to  reign  as  king  of  the  ten  tribes 
in  the  eighth  year  of  the  reign  of  Amassia,  and 
to  have  held  the  government  forty-one  years, 
and  to  have  at  length  died  in  the  fourth  year  of 
the  reign  of  Ozia,  son  of  Amassia.  By  this  mode 
of  reckoning,  the  reign  of  Amassia  is  made  to 
extend  over  twenty-eight  years.  Accordingly, 
we,  following  out  this,  inasmuch  as  it  is  our  pur- 
pose to  adhere  in  this  work  to  the  dates  in  their 
proper  order,  have  accepted  the  authority  of  the 
Chronicles.3 

CHAPTER   XLVII. 

Ozias,  then,  the  son  of  Amassia,  succeeded  to 
him.  For,  on  the  side  of  the  ten  tribes,  Joas, 
reaching  the  end  of  his  days,  had  given  place  to 
his  son  Jeroboa,  and  after  him,  again,  his  son 
Zacharias  began  to  reign.  Of  these  kings,  and 
of  all  who  ruled  over  Samaria  on  the  side  of  the 
ten  tribes,  we  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to 
note  the  dates,  because,  aiming  at  brevity,  we 
have  omitted  everything  superfluous ;  and  we 
have  thought  that  the  years  should  be  carefully 
traced  for  a  knowledge  especially  of  the  times 
of  that  portion J  of  the  Jews,  which  being  carried 
into  captivity  at  a  later  period  than  the  other, 
passed  through  a  longer  time  as  a  kingdom. 
Ozias,  then,  having  obtained  the  kingdom  of 
Judah,  gave  his  principal  care  to  knowing  the 
Lord,  making  great  use  of  Zachariah  the  prophet 
(Isaiah,  too,  is  said  to  have  first  prophesied 
under  this  king)  ;  and,  on  this  account,  he 
carried  on  war  against  his  neighbors  with  de- 
servedly prosperous  results,  while  he  also  con- 
quered the  Arabians.  And  already  he  had 
shaken  Egypt  with  the  terror  of  his  name ;  but, 
being  elated  by  prosperity,  he  ventured  on  what 
was  forbidden,  and  offered  incense  to  God,  a 
thing  which  it  was  the  established  custom  for 
the  priests  alone  to  do.  Being,  then,  rebuked 
by  Azaria  the  priest,  and  compelled  to  leave  the 
sacred  place,  he  burst  out  into  a  rage,  but  was, 
when  he  finally  withdrew,  covered  with  leprosy. 
Under  the  influence  of  this  disease  he  ended  his 


1  "  Paralipomenis." 

2  "  Chronicis,"  i.e.  of  Eusebius. 

3  "  Chronicorum,"  i.e.  of  Eusebius. 

1  There  is  a  reference  in  these  words  to  the  two  tribes,  or  kingdom 
of  Judah. 


94 


THE    WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


days,  after  having  reigned  fifty-two  years.  Then 
tne  kingdom  was  given  to  Joathas  his  son ;  and 
he  is  related  to  have  been  very  pious,  and  carried 
on  the  government  with  success  :  he  subdued  in 
war  the  nation  of  the  Ammonites,  and  compelled 
them  to  pay  tribute.  He  reigned  sixteen  years, 
and  his  son  Achaz  succeeded  him. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

The  remarkable  faith  of  the  Ninevites  is  re- 
lated to  have  been  manifested  about  these  times. 
That  town,  founded  of  old  by  Assure,  the  son 
of  Sem,  was  the  capital  of  the  kingdom  of  the 
Assyrians.  It  was  then  full  of  a  multitude  of 
inhabitants,  sustaining  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  men,  and  abounding  in  wickedness,  as 
is  usually  the  case  among  a  vast  concourse  of 
people.  God,  moved  by  their  sinfulness,  com- 
manded the  prophet  Jonah  to  go  from  Judaea, 
and  denounce  destruction  upon  the  city,  as 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  had  of  old  been  con- 
sumed by  fire  from  heaven.  But  the  prophet 
declined  that  office  of  preaching,  not  out  of 
contumacy,  but  from  foresight,  which  enabled 
him  to  behold  God  reconciled  through  the  re- 
pentance of  the  people  ;  and  he  embarked  on 
board  a  ship  which  was  bound  for  Tharsus,  in  a 
very  different  direction.  But,  after  they  had 
gone  forth  into  the  deep,  the  sailors,  constrained 
by  the  violence  of  the  sea,  inquired  by  means 
of  the  lot  who  was  the  cause  of  that  suffering. 
And  when  the  lot  fell  upon  Jonah,  he  was  cast 
into  the  sea,  to  be,  as  it  were,  a  sacrifice  for 
stilling  the  tempest,  and  he  was  seized  and 
swallowed  by  a  whale  —  a  monster  of  the  deep. 
Cast  out  three  days  afterwards  on  the  shores  of 
the x  Ninevites,  he  preached  as  he  had  been 
commanded,  namely  that  the  city  would  be 
destroyed  in  three2  days,  as  a  punishment  for 
the  sins  of  the  people.  The  voice  of  the  prophet 
was  listened  to,  not  in  a  hypocritical  fashion,  as 
at  Sodom  of  old  ;  and  immediately  by  the  order, 
and  after  the  example,  of  the  king,  the  whole 
people,  and  even  those  infants  newly  born,  are 
commanded  to  abstain  from  meat  and  drink  : 
the  very  beasts  of  burden  in  the  place,  and 
animals  of  different  kinds,  being  forced  by 
hunger  and  thirst,  presented  an  appearance  of 
those  who  lamented  along  with  the  human  in- 
habitants. In  this  way,  the  threatened  evil  was 
averted.  To  Jonah,  complaining  to  God,  that 
his  words  had  not  been  fulfilled,  it  was  answered 
that  pardon  could  never  be  denied  to  the  peni- 
tent. 


1  Surely  a  blunder;  for,  as  has  been  well  asked,  how  could  Jonah, 
who  was  swallowed  by  a  whale  in  the  Mediterranean,  have  been  cast 
out  by  the  fish  on  the  shores  of  the  Ninevites?  The  Hebrew  text 
has  simply  "  the  dryland." 

2  After  the  Greek;  the  Hebrew  has  "  forty  days." 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 

But  in  Samaria,  Zacharia  the  king,  who  was 
very  wicked,  and  whom  we  have  spoken  of 
above  as  occupying  the  throne,  was  slain  by  a 
certain  Sella,  who  seized  the  kingdom.  He,  in 
turn,  perished  by  the  treachery  of  Mane,  who 
simply  repeated  the  conduct  of  his  predecessor. 
Mane  held  the  government  which  he  had  taken 
from  Sella,  and  left  it  to  his  son  Pache.  But  a 
certain  person  of  the  same  name  slew  Pache, 
and  seized  the  kingdom.  Ere  long  being  cut  off 
by  Osee,  he  lost  the  sovereignty  by  the  same 
crime  by  which  he  had  received  it.  This  man, 
being  ungodly  beyond  all  the  kings  who  had 
preceded  him,  brought  punishment  upon  himself 
from  God,  and  a  perpetual  captivity  on  his 
nation.  For  Salmanasar,  king  of  the  Assyrians, 
made  war  with  him,  and  when  conquered  ren- 
dered him  tributary.  But  when,  with  secret 
plans,  he  was  preparing  for  rebellion,  and  had 
asked  the  king  of  the  Ethiopians,  who  then  had 
possession  of  Egypt  for  his  assistance,  Salman- 
asar, on  discovering  that,  cast  him  into  prison 
with  fetters  never  taken  off,  while  he  destroyed 
the  city,  and  carried  off  the  whole  people  into 
his  own  kingdom,  Assyrians  being  placed  in  the 
enemy's  country  to  guard  it.  Hence  that  district 
was  called  Samaria,  because  in  the  language  of 
the  Assyrians  guards  are  called  Samaritse.1  Very 
many  of  their  settlers  accepted  the  divine  rite* 
of  the  Jewish  religion,  while  others  remained  in 
the  errors  of  heathenism.  In  this  war,  Tobias 
was  carried  into  captivity.  But  on  the  side  of 
the  two  tribes,  Achaz,  who  was  displeasing  to  God 
on  account  of  his  impiety,  finding  he  had  fre- 
quently the  worst  of  it  in  wars  with  his  neigh- 
bors, resolved  to  worship  the  gods  of  the 
heathen,  undoubtedly  because  by  their  help  his 
enemies  had  proved  victorious  in  frequent 
battles.  He  ended  his  days  with  this  crime2  in 
his  wicked  mind,  after  a  reign  of  sixteen  years. 


CHAPTER   L. 

To  him  succeeded  Ezekias  his  son,  a  man 
very  unlike  his  father  in  character.  For,  in  the 
beginning  of  his  reign,  urging  the  people  and  the 
priests  to  the  worship  of  God,  he  discoursed  to 
them  in  many  words,  showing  how  often,  after 
being  chastened  by  the  Lord,  they  had  obtained 
mercy,  and  how  the  ten  tribes,  having  been  at 
last  carried  away  into  captivity,  as  had  lately 
happened,  were  now  paying  the  penalty  of  their 
impiety.  He  added  that  their  duty  was  care- 
fully to  be  on  their  guard  lest  they  should  de- 
serve   to    suffer   the    same    things.      Thus,    the 

1  Vorstius  remarks  that  this  is  a  totally  erroneous  statement. 

2  "  Piaculo":  a  very  old  meaning  is  here  attached  to  the  word. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


95 


minds  of  all  being  turned  to  religion,  he  ap- 
pointed the  Levites  and  all  the  priests  to  offer 
sacrifices  according  to  the  law,  and  arranged 
that  the  Passover,  which  had  for  a  long  time 
been  neglected,  should  be  celebrated.  And 
when  the  holy  day  was  at  hand,  he  proclaimed 
the  special  day  of  assembly  by  messengers  sent 
throughout  all  the  land,  so  that,  if  any  had 
remained  in  Samaria,  after  the  removal  of  the 
ten  tribes,  they  might  gather  together  for  the 
sacred  observance.  Thus,  in  a  very  full  assem- 
blage, the  sacred  day  was  spent  with  public 
rejoicing,  and,  after  a  long  interval,  the  proper 
religious  rites  were  restored  by  means  of  Ezekias. 
He  then  carried  on  military  affairs  with  the 
same  diligence  with  which  he  had  attended  to 
divine  things,  and  defeated  the  Philistines  in 
frequent  battles  ;  until  Sennacherim,  king  of  the 
Assyrians,  made  war  against  him,  having  entered 
his  territories  with  a  large  army  ;  and  then,  when 
the  country  had  been  laid  waste  without  any 
opposition,  he  laid  siege  to  the  city.  For  Eze- 
kias, being  inferior  in  numbers,  did  not  venture 
to  come  to  an  engagement  with  him,  but  kept 
himself  safe  within  the  walls.  The  king  of 
Assyria,  thundering  at  the  gates,  threatened  de- 
struction, and  demanded  surrender,  exclaiming 
that  in  vain  did  Ezekias  put  his  trust  in  God,  for 
that  he  rather  had  taken  up  arms  by  the  appoint- 
ment of  God ;  and  that  the  conqueror  of  all 
nations,  as  well  as  the  overthrower  of  Samaria, 
could  not  be  escaped,  unless  the  king  secured 
his  own  safety  by  a  speedy  surrender.  In  this 
state  of  affairs,  Ezekias,  trusting  in  God,  con- 
sulted the  prophet  Isaiah,  and  from  his  answer 
he  learned  that  there  would  be  no  danger  from 
the  enemy,  and  that  the  divine  assistance  would 
not  fail  him.  And,  in  fact,  not  long  after, 
Tarraca,  king  of  Ethiopia,  invaded  the  kingdom 
of  the  Assyrians. 


CHAPTER   LI. 

By  this  news  Sennacherim  was  led  to  return 
in  order  to  defend  his  own  territories,  and  he 
gave  up  the  war,  at  the  same  time  murmuring 
and  crying  out  that  victory  was  snatched  from 
him  the  victor.  He  also  sent  letters  to  Ezekias, 
declaring,  with  many  insulting  words,  that  he, 
after  settling  his  own  affairs,  would  speedily 
return  for  the  destruction  of  Judsea.  But  Eze- 
kias, in  no  wise  disturbed  by  these  threats,  is 
said  to  have  prayed  to  God  that  he  would  not 
allow  the  so  great  insolence  of  this  man  to  pass 
unavenged.  Accordingly,  in  the  same  night, 
an  angel  attacking  the  camp  of  the  Assyrians, 
caused 1  the  death  of  many  thousand  men.     The 


1  Our  author  is  here  guilty  of  omission  and  consequent  inaccu- 
racy.    Comp.  Isa.  chap.  37. 


king  in  terror  fled  to  the  town  of  Nineveh,  and 
being  there  slain  by  his  sons,  met  with  an  end 
worthy  of  himself.  At  the  same  time,  Ezekias, 
sick  in  body,  lay  suffering  from  disease.  And 
when  Isaiah  had  announced  to  him  in  the  words 
of  the  Lord  that  the  end  of  his  life  was  at  hand, 
the  king  is  related  to  have  wept ;  and  thus  he 
got  fifteen  years  added  to  his  life.  These  com- 
ing to  an  end,  he  died  in  the  twenty-ninth  year 
of  his  reign,  and  left  the  kingdom  to  his  son 
Manasse.  He,  degenerating  much  from  his 
father,  forsook  God,  and  took  to  the  practice  of 
impious  worship  ;  and  being,  as  a  punishment 
for  this,  delivered  into  the  power  of  the  Assyr- 
ians, he  was  by  his  sufferings  constrained  to 
acknowledge  his  error,  and  exhorted  the  people 
that,  forsaking  their  idols,  they  should  worship 
God.  He  accomplished  nothing  worthy  of 
special  mention,  but  reigned  for  fifty-five  years. 
Then  Amos  his  son  obtained  the  kingdom,  but 
possessed  it  only  two  years.  He  was  the  heir 
of  his  father's  impiety,  and  showed  himself  re- 
gardless of  God :  being  entrapped  by  some 
stratagems  of  his  friends,  he  perished. 


CHAPTER  LIE 

The  government  then  passed  to  his  son  Josia. 
He  is  related  to  have  been  very  pious,  and  to 
have  attended  to  divine  things  with  the  utmost 
care,  profiting  largely  by  the  aid  of  the  priest 
Helchia.  Having  read  a  book  written  with  the 
words  of  God,  and  which  had  been  found  in 
the  temple  by  the  priest,  in  which  it  was  stated 
that  the  Hebrew  nation  would  be  destroyed  on 
account  of  their  frequent  acts  of  impiety  and 
sacrilege,  by  his  pious  supplications  to  God, 
and  constant  tears,  he  averted  the  impending 
overthrow.  When  he  learned  through  Olda  the 
prophetess  that  this  favor  was  granted  him,  he 
then  with  still  greater  care  set  himself  to  prac- 
tice the  worship  of  God,  inasmuch  as  he  was 
now  under  obligation  to  the  divine  goodness. 
Accordingly,  he  burned  all  the  vessels  which 
had  by  the  superstitions  of  former  kings  been 
consecrated  to  idols.  For  to  such  a  height  had 
profane  observances  prevailed,  that  they  used  to 
pay  divine  honors  to  the  sun  and  moon,  and 
even  erected  shrines  made  of  metal  to  these 
fancied  deities.  Josia  reduced  these  to  powder, 
and  also  slew  the  priests  of  the  profane  temples. 
He  did  not  even  spare  the  tombs  of  the  im- 
pious ;  and  it  was  observed  that  thus  was  ful- 
filled what  had  of  old  been  predicted  by  the 
prophet.  In  the  eighteenth  year  of  his  reign, 
the  Passover  was  celebrated.  And  about  three 
years  afterwards,  having  gone  forth  to  battle 
against  Nechao,  king  of  Egypt,  who  was  making 
war  upon  the  Assyrians,  before  the  armies  prop- 


g6 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


erly  engaged,  he  was  wounded  by  an  arrow. 
And  being  carried  back  to  the  city,  he  died  of 
that  wound,  after  he  had  reigned  twenty  and  one 
years. 


CHAPTER   LIII. 

Joachas,  his  son,  having  then  obtained  the 
kingdom,  held  it  for  three  months,  being  doomed 
to  captivity  on  account  of  his  impiety.  For 
Nechao,  king  of  Egypt,  bound  him  and  led  him 
away  captive,  and  not  long  after,  while  still  a 
prisoner,  he  ended  his  days.  An  annual  tribute 
was  demanded  of  the  Jews,  and  a  king  was  given 
them  at  the  will  of  the  victor.  His  name  was 
Eliakim,  but  he  afterwards  changed  it  to  Joa- 
chim. He  was  the  brother  of  Joacha,  and  the 
son  of  Josia,  but  liker  his  brother  than  his  father, 
displeasing  God  by  his  impiety.  Accordingly, 
while  he  was  in  subjection  to  the  king  of  Egypt, 
and  in  token  thereof  paid  him  tribute,  Na- 
buchodonosor,  the  king  of  Babylon,  seized  the 
land  of  Judaea,  and  as  victor  held  it  by  the  right 
of  war  for  three  years.  For  the  king  of  Egypt 
now  giving  way,  and  the  boundaries  of  their 
empire  being  fixed  between  them,  it  had  been 
agreed  that  the  Jews  should  belong  to  Babylon. 
Thus  after  Joachim,  having  finished  his  reign  of 
eleven  years,  had  given  place  to  his  son  of  the 
same  name,  and  he  had  excited  against  himself 
the  wrath  of  the  king  of  Babylon  (God  undoubt- 
edly overruling  everything,  having  resolved  to 
give  the  nation  of  the  Jews  up  to  captivity  and 
destruction),  Nabuchodonosor  entered  Jerusa- 
lem with  an  army,  and  leveled  the  walls  and  the 
temple  to  the  ground.  He  also  carried  off  an 
immense  amount  of  gold,  with  sacred  ornaments 
either  public  or  private,  and  all  of  mature  age 
both  of  the  male  and  female  sex,  those  only 
being  left  behind  whose  weakness  or  age  caused 
trouble  to  the  conquerors.  This  useless  crowd 
had  the  task  assigned  them  of  working  and  cul- 
tivating the  fields  in  slavery,  in  order  that  the 
soil  might  not  be  neglected.  Over  them  a  king 
called  Sedechias  was  appointed  ;  but  while  the 
empty  shadow  of  the  name  of  king  was  allowed 
him,  all  real  power  was  taken  away.  Joachim, 
for  his  part,  possessed  the  sovereignty  only  for 
three  months.  He  was  carried  away,  along  with 
the  people,  to  Babylon,  and  was  there  thrown 
into  prison  ;  but  being,  after  a  period  of  thirty 
years  released,  while  he  was  admitted  by  the 
king  to  his  friendship,  and  made  a  partaker  with 
him  at  his  table  and  in  his  counsels,  he  died  at 
last,  not  without  some  consolation  in  that  his 
misfortunes  had  been  removed. 


CHAPTER   LIV. 

Meanwhile  Sedechias,  the  king  of  the  useless 
multitude,  although  without  power,  being  of  an 
unfaithful  disposition  and  neglectful  of  God, 
and  not  understanding  that  captivity  had  been 
brought  upon  them  on  account  of  the  sins  of  the 
nation,  becoming  at  length  ripe  for  suffering  the 
last  evils  he  could  endure,  offended  the  mind  of 
the  king.  Accordingly,  after  a  period  of  nine 
years,  Nabuchodonosor  made  war  against  him, 
and  having  forced  him  to  flee  within  the  walls, 
besieged  him  for  three  years.  At  this  time,  he 
consulted  Jeremia  the  prophet,  who  had  already 
often  proclaimed  that  captivity  impended  over 
the  city,  to  discover  if  perhaps  there  might  still 
be  some  hope.  But  he,  not  ignorant  of  the 
anger  of  heaven,  having  frequently  had  the  same 
question  put  to  him,  at  length  gave  an  answer, 
denouncing  special  punishment  upon  the  king. 
Then  Sedechias,  roused  to  resentment,  ordered 
the  prophet  to  be  thrust  into  prison.  Ere  long, 
however,  he  regretted  this  cruel  act,  but,  as  the 
chief  men  of  the  Jews  (whose  practice  it  had 
been  even  from  the  beginning  to  afflict  the 
righteous)  opposed  him,  he  did  not  venture  to 
release  the  innocent  man.  Under  coercion  from 
the  same  persons,  the  prophet  was  let  down 
into  a  pit 1  of  great  depth,  and  which  was  dis- 
gusting from  its  filth  and  squalor,  while  a  deadly 
stench  issued  from  it.  This  was  done  that  he 
might  not  simply  die  by  a  common  death.  But 
the  king,  impious  though  he  was,  yet  showed 
himself  somewhat  more  merciful  than  the  priests, 
and  ordered  the  prophet  to  be  taken  out  of  the 
pit,  and  restored  to  the  safekeeping  of  the  prison. 
In  the  meantime  the  force  of  the  enemy  and 
want  began  to  press  the  besieged  hard,  and 
everything  being  consumed  that  could  be  eaten, 
famine  took  a  firm  hold  of  them.  Thus,  its  de- 
fenders being  worn  out  with  want  of  food,  the 
town  was  taken  and  burnt.  The  king,  as  the 
prophet  had  declared,  had  his  eyes  put  out,  and 
was  carried  away  to  Babylon,  while  Jeremia, 
through  the  mercy  of  the  enemy,  was  taken  out 
of  his  prison.  When  Nabuzardan,  one  of  the 
royal  princes,  was  leading  him  away  captive  with 
the  rest,  the  choice  was  granted  by  him  to  the 
prophet,  either  to  remain  in  his  deserted  and 
desolated  native  country,  or  to  go  along  with 
him  in  the  possession  of  the  highest  honors ; 
and  Jeremia  preferred  to  abide  in  his  native 
land.  Nabuchodonosor,  having  carried  away 
the  people,  appointed  as  governor  over  those 
left  behind  by  the  conquerors  (either  from  the 
circumstances  attending  the  war,  or  from  an  ab- 
solute weariness  of  accumulating  spoil)  Godolia, 
who    belonged  to   the   same   nation.     He  gave 


1  "  Lacum,"  as  once  before. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


97 


him,  however,  no  royal  ensign,  or  even  the  name 
of  governor,  because  there  was  really  no  honor 
in  ruling  over  these  few  wretched  persons. 


BOOK     II. 

CHAPTER   I. 

The  times  of  the  captivity  have  been  rendered 
illustrious  by  the  predictions  and  deeds  of  the 
prophets,  and  especially  by  the  remarkable  per- 
sistency of  Daniel  in  upholding  the  law,  and  by 
the  deliverance  of  Susanna  through  the  divine 
wisdom,  as  well  as  by  the  other  things  which  it 
accomplished,  and  which  we  shall  now  relate  in 
their  order.  Daniel  was  made  a  prisoner  under 
King  Joachim,  and  was  brought  to  Babylon, 
while  still  a  very  little  child.  Afterwards,  on 
account  of  the  beauty  of  his  countenance,  he 
had  a  place  given  him  among  the  king's  servants, 
and  along  with,  him,  Annanias,  Misael,  and  Aza- 
rias.  But,  when  the  king  had  ordered  them  to 
be  supplied  with  the  finer  kinds  of  food,  and 
had  imposed  it  as  a  duty  on  Asphane  the  eunuch 
to  attend  to  that  matter,  Daniel,  mindful  of  the 
traditions  of  his  fathers  which  forbade  him  to 
partake  of  food  from  the  table  of  a  king  of  the 
Gentiles,  begged  of  the  eunuch  to  be  allowed 
to  use  a  diet  of  pulse  only.  Asphane  objected 
that  the  leanness  which  would  follow  might  reveal 
the  fact  that  the  king's  commandment  had  been 
disobeyed  ;  but  Daniel,  putting  his  trust  in  God, 
promised  that  he  would  have  greater  beauty  of 
countenance  from  living  on  pulse  than  from  the 
use  of  the  king's  dainties.  And  his  words  were 
made  good,  so  that  the  faces  of  those  who  were 
cared  for  at  the  public  expense  were  regarded 
as  by  no  means  comparable  to  those  of  Daniel 
and  his  friends.  Accordingly,  being  promoted 
by  the  king  to  honor  and  favor,  they  were,  in  a 
short  time,  by  their  prudence  and  wise  conduct, 
preferred  to  all  those  that  stood  nearest  to  the 
king.  About  the  same  time,  Susanna,  the  wife 
of  a  certain  man  called  Joachis,  a  woman  of 
remarkable  beauty,  was  desired  by  two  elders, 
and,  when  she  would  not  listen  to  their  unchaste 
proposals,  was  assailed  by  a  false  accusation. 
These  elders  reported  that  a  young  man  was 
found  with  her  in  a  retired  place,  but  escaped 
their  hands  by  his  youthful  nimbleness,  while 
they  were  enfeebled  with  age.  Credit,  accord- 
ingly, was  given  to  these  elders,  and  Susanna 
was  condemned  by  the  sentence  of  the  people. 
And,  as  she  was  being  led  away  to  punishment 
according  to  the  law,  Daniel,  who  was  then 
twelve  years  old,  after  having  rebuked  the  Jews 
for  delivering  the  innocent  to  death,  demanded 
that  she  should  be  brought  back  to  trial,  and 


that  her  cause  should  be  heard  afresh.  For  the 
multitude  of  the  Jews  who  were  then  present, 
thought  that  a  boy  of  an  age  so  little  command- 
ing respect,  had  not  ventured  to  take  such  a 
bold  step  without  a  divine  impulse,  and,  granting 
him  the  favor  which  was  asked,  returned  anew 
to  council.  The  trial,  then,  is  entered  upon 
once  more ;  and  Daniel  was  allowed  to  take  his 
place  among  the  elders.  Upon  this,  he  orders 
the  two  accusers  to  be  separated  from  each 
other.,  and  inquires  of  each  of  them  in  turn, 
under  what  kind  of  a  tree  he  had  discovered  the 
adulteress.  From  the  difference  of  answers 
which  they  gave,  their  falsehood  was  detected  : 
Susanna  was  acquitted  ;  and  the  elders,  who  had 
brought  the  innocent  into  danger,  were  con- 
demned to  death. 


CHAPTER   II. 

At  that  time,  Nabuchodonosor  had  a  dream 
marvelous  for  that  insight 1  into  the  future  which 
it  implied.  As  he  could  not  of  himself  bring 
out  its  interpretation,  he  sent  for  the  Chaldseans 
who  were  supposed  by  magic  arts  and  by  the 
entrails  of  victims  to  know  secret  things,  and  to 
predict  the  future,  in  order  to  its  interpretation. 
Presently  becoming  apprehensive  lest,  in  the 
usual  manner  of  men,  they  should  extract  from 
the  dream  not  what  was  true,  but  what  would 
be  acceptable  to  the  king,  he  suppresses  the 
things  he  had  seen,  and  demands  of  them  that, 
if  a  real  power  of  divination  was  in  them,  they 
should  relate  to  him  the  dream  itself;  saying 
that  he  would  then  believe  their  interpretation,- 
if  they  should  first  make  proof  of  their  skill  by 
relating  the  dream.  But  they  declined  attempt- 
ing so  great  a  difficulty,  and  confessed  that  such 
a  thing  was  not  within  the  reach  of  human 
power.  The  king,  enraged  because,  under  a 
false  profession  of  divination,  they  were  mocking 
men  with  their  errors,  while  they  were  compelled 
by  the  present  case  to  acknowledge  that  they 
had  no  such  knowledge  as  was  pretended,  made 
an  exposure  of  them  by  means  of  a  royal  edict ; 
and  all  the  men  professing  that  art  were  publicly 
put  to  death.  When  Daniel  heard  of  that,  he 
spoke  to  one  of  those  nearest  to  the  king,  and 
promised  to  give  an  account  of  the  dream,  as 
well  as  supply  its  interpretation.  The  thing  is 
reported  to  the  king,  and  Daniel  is  sent  for. 
The  mystery  had  already  been  revealed  to  him 
by  God  j  and  so  he  relates  the  vision  of  the 
king,  as  well  as  interprets  it.  But  this  matter 
demands  that  we  set  forth  the  dream  of  the 
king  and  its  interpretation,  along  with  the  fulfill- 
ment of  his  words  by  what  followed.     The  king, 

1  "  mysterio  futurorum  mirabile." 


98 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


then,  had  seen  in  his  sleep  an  image  with  a 
head  of  gold,  with  a  breast  and  arms  of  silver, 
with  a  belly  and  thighs  of  brass,  with  legs  of 
iron,  and  which  in  its  feet  ended  partly  with  iron, 
and  partly  with  clay.  But  the  iron  and  the  clay 
when  blended  together  could  not  adhere  to  each 
other.  At  last,  a  stone  cut  out  without  hands 
broke  the  image  to  pieces,  and  the  whole,  being 
reduced  to  dust,  was  carried  away  by  the  wind. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Accordingly,  as  the  prophet  interpreted  the 
matter,  the  image  which  was  seen  furnished  a 
representation  of  the  world.  The  golden  head 
is  the  empire  of  the  Chaldseans  ;  for  we  have 
understood  that  it  was  the  first  and  wealthiest. 
The  breast  and  the  arms  of  silver  represent  the 
second  kingdom  ;  for  Cyrus,  after  the  Chaldse- 
ans and  the  Medes  were  conquered,  conferred 
the  empire  on  the  Persians.  In  the  brazen 
belly  it  is  said  that  the  third  sovereignty  was 
indicated  ;  and  we  see  that  this  was  fulfilled,  for 
Alexander  took  the  empire  from  the  Persians, 
and  won  the  sovereignty  for  the  Macedonians. 
The  iron  legs  point  to  a  fourth  power,  and  that 
is  understood  of  the  Roman  empire,  which  is 
more  powerful1  than  all  the  kingdoms  which 
were  before  it.  But  the  fact  that  the  feet  were 
partly  of  iron  and  partly  clay,  indicates  that  the 
Roman  empire  is  to  be  divided,  so  as  never  to 
be  united.  This,  too,  has  been  fulfilled,  for  the 
Roman  state  is  ruled  not  by  one  emperor  but 
by  several,  and  these  are  always  quarreling 
among  themselves,  either  in  actual  warfare  or 
by  factions.  Finally,  by  the  clay  and  the  iron 
being  mixed  together,  yet  never  in  their  sub- 
stance thoroughly  uniting,  are  shadowed  forth 
those  future  mixtures  of  the  human  race  which 
disagree  among  themselves,  though  apparently 
combined.  For  it  is  obvious  that  the  Roman 
territory  is  occupied  by  foreign  nations,  or 
rebels,  or  that  it  has  been  given  over  to  those 
who  have  surrendered  themselves  under  an 
appearance "  of  peace.  And  it  is  also  evident 
that  barbarous  nations,  and  especially  Jews, 
have  been  commingled  with  our  armies,  cities, 
and  provinces;  and  we  thus  behold  them  living 
among  us,  yet  by  no  means  agreeing  to  adopt 
our  customs.  And  the  prophets  declare  that 
these  are  the  last  times.  But  in  the  stone  cut 
out  without  hands,  which  broke  to  pieces  the 
gold,  silver,  brass,  iron,  and  clay,  there  is  a 
figure  of  Christ.  For  he,  not  born  under  human 
conditions  (since  he  was  born  not  of  the  will  of 
man,  but  of  the  will  of  God),  will   reduce  to 


1  Such  is  clearly  the  meaning,  but  it  is  strangely  expressed  by 
the  words  "  omnibus  ante  regnis  validissimum." 

2  The  text  is  here  very  uncertain  and  obscure. 


nothing  that  world  in  which  exist  earthly  king- 
doms, and  will  establish  another  kingdom, 
incorruptible  and  everlasting,  that  is,  the  future 
world,  which  is  prepared  for  the  saints.  The 
faith  of  some  still  hesitates  about  this  point  only, 
while  they  do  not  believe  about  things  yet  to 
come,  though  they  are  convinced  of  the  things 
that  are  past.  Daniel,  then,  was  presented  with 
many  gifts  by  the  king,  was  set  over  Babylon 
and  the  whole  empire,  and  was  held  in  the 
highest  honor.  By  his  influence,  Annanias, 
Azarias,  and  Misael,  were  also  advanced  to  the 
highest  dignity  and  power.  About  the  same 
time,  the  remarkable  prophecies  of  Ezekiel 
came  out,  the  mystery  of  future  things  and  of 
the  resurrection :i  having  been  revealed  to  him. 
His  book  is  one  of  great  weight,  and  deserves  to 
be  read  with  care. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

But  in  Judaea,  over  which,  as  we  have  related 
above,  Godolia  was  set  after  the  destruction  of 
Jerusalem,  the  Jews  taking  it  very  ill  that  a 
ruler  not  of  the  royal  race  had  been  assigned 
them  by  the  mere  will  of  the  conqueror,  with  a 
certain  Ismael  as  their  leader  and  instigator  of 
the  execrable  conspiracy,  cut  off  Godolia  by 
means  of  treachery  while  he  was  at  a  banquet. 
Those,  however,  who  had  no  part  in  the  plot, 
wishing  to  take  steps  for  avenging  the  deed, 
hastily  take  up  arms  against  Ismael.  But  when 
he  learned  that  destruction  threatened  him, 
leaving  the  army  which  he  had  collected,  and 
with  not  more  than  eight  companions  he  fled  to 
the  Ammonites.  Fear,  therefore,  fell  upon  the 
whole  people,  lest  the  king  of  Babylon  should 
avenge  the  guilt  of  a  few  by  the  destruction  of 
all ;  for,  in  addition  to  Godolia,  they  had  slain 
many  of  the  Chaldseans  along  with  him.  They, 
therefore,  form  a  plan  of  fleeing  into  Egypt,  but 
they  first  go  in  a  body  to  Jeremia,  requesting  of 
him  divine  counsel.  He  then  exhorted  them 
all  in  the  words  of  God  to  remain  in  their 
native  country,  telling  them  that  if  they  did  so, 
they  would  be  protected  by  the  power  of  God, 
and  that  no  danger  would  accrue  from  the 
Babylonians,  but  that,  if  they  went  into  Egypt, 
they  would  all  perish  there  by  sword,  and 
famine,  and  different  kinds  of  death.  The 
rabble,  however,  with  the  usual  evil  tendency 
they  show,  being  unaccustomed  to  yield  to 
useful  advice  and  the  divine  power,  did  go  into 
Egypt.  The  sacred  Scriptures  are  silent  as  to 
their  future  fate  ;  and  I  have  not  been  able 
to  discover  anything  regarding  it. 


3  "  resurrectionis,"  referring  probably  not  to  the  rising  again  of 
the  dead,  but  to  the  restoration  of  the  Jews.     See  Ezek.  chap.  37. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


99 


CHAPTER   V. 

At  this  period  of  time,  Nabuchodonosor, 
elated  with  prosperity,  erected  a  golden  statue 
to  himself  of  enormous  size,  and  ordered  it  to 
be  worshiped  as  a  sacred  image.  And  when 
this  was  zealously  gone  about  by  all,  inasmuch 
as  their  minds  had  been  corrupted  by  the  uni- 
versal flattery  which  prevailed,  Annanias,  Azarias, 
and  Misael  kept  aloof  from  the  profane  observ- 
ance, being  well  aware  that  that  honor  was  due  to 
God  alone.  They  were  therefore,  according  to 
an  edict  of  the  king,  regarded  as  criminals,  and 
there  was  set  before  them,  as  the  means  of 
punishment,  a  fiery  furnace,  in  order  that,  by 
present  terror,  they  might  be  compelled  to 
worship  the  statue.  But  they  preferred  to  be 
swallowed  up  by  the  flames  rather  than  to  com- 
mit such  a  sin.  Accordingly,  they  were  bound, 
and  cast  into  the  midst  of  the  fire.  But  the 
flames  laid  hold  of  the  agents  in  this  execrable 
work,  as  they  were  forcing,  with  all  eagerness,  the 
victims  into  the  fire  ;  while  —  wonderful  to  say, 
and  indeed  incredible  to  all  but  eye-witnesses  — 
the  fire  did  not  touch  the  Hebrews  at  all.  They 
were  seen  by  the  spectators  walking  in  the  midst 
of  the  furnace,  and  singing  a  song  of  praise  to 
God,  while  there  was  also  beheld  along  with 
them  a  fourth  person  having  the  appearance  of 
an  angel,  and  whom  Nabuchodonosor,  on  obtain- 
ing a  nearer  view  of  him,  acknowledged  to  be 
the1  Son  of  God.  Then  the  king  having  no 
doubt  that  the  divine  power  was  present  in  the 
event  which  had  taken  place,  sent  proclamations 
throughout  his  whole  kingdom  making  known 
the  miracle  which  had  taken  place,  and  confess- 
ing that  honor  was  to  be  paid  to  God  alone. 
Not  long  after,  being  instructed  by  a  vision 
which  presented  itself  to  him,  and  presently  also 
by  a  voice  which  reached  him  from  heaven,  he 
is  said  to  have  done  penance  by  laying  aside  his 
kingly  power,  retiring  from  all  intercourse  with 
mankind,  and  to  have  sustained  life  by  herbs 
alone.  However,  his  empire  was  kept  for  him 
by  the  will  of  God,  until  the  time  was  fulfilled, 
and  at  length  duly  acknowledging  God,  he  was, 
after  seven  years,  restored  to  his  kingdom  and 
former  position.  He  is  related,  after  having 
conquered  Sedechia  (whom  he  carried  away 
captive  to  Babylon),  as  we  have  said  above,  to 
have  reigned  twenty-six  years,  although  I  do  not 
find  that  recorded  in  the  sacred  history.  But  it 
has  perhaps  happened  that,  while  I  was  engaged 
in  searching  out  many  points,  I  found  this  re- 
mark in  the  work  of  some  anonymous  author 
which  had  become  interpolated  in  course  of 
time,  and  in  which  the  dates  of  the  Babylonish 
kings  were  contained.     I  did  not  think  it  risrht 


1  Or,  "  confessed  that  he  had  seen  a  son  of  God.' 


to  pass  the  remark  unnoticed,  since  it  does  in 
fact  harmonize  with  the  Chronicles,  and  dius  its 
account  agrees  with  us,  to  the  effect  that, 
through  the  succession  of  the  kings,  whose  dates 
the  record  contained,  it  completed  seventy  years 
up  to  the  first  year  of  king  Cyrus,  and  such  in 
fact  is  the  number  of  years  which  is  stated  in 
the  sacred  history  to  have  elapsed  from  the  cap- 
tivity up  to  the  time  of  Cyrus. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

After  Nabuchodonosor,  the  kingdom  fell  to 
his  son,  whom  I  find  called  Euilmarodac  in  the 
Chronicles.  He  died  in  the  twelfth  year  of  his 
reign,  and  made  room  for  his  younger  brother, 
who  was  called  Balthasar.  He,  when  in  the 
fourteenth  year  he  gave  a  public  feast  to  his 
chief  men  and  rulers,  ordered  the  sacred  vessels 
(which  had  been  taken  away  by  Nabuchodo- 
nosor from  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  yet  had  not 
been  employed  for  any  uses  of  the  king,  but 
were  kept  laid  up  in  the  treasury)  to  be  brought 
forth.  And  when  all  persons,  both  of  the  male 
and  female  sex,  with  his  wives  and  concubines, 
were  using  these  amid  the  luxury  and  licentious- 
ness of  a  royal  banquet,  suddenly  the  king  ob- 
served fingers  writing  upon  the  wall,  and  the 
letters  were  perceived  to  be  formed  into  words.1 
But  no  one  could  be  found  who  was  able  to  read 
the  writing.  The  king,  therefore,  in  perturba- 
tion called  for  the  magi  and  the  Chaldaeans. 
When  these  simply  muttered  among  themselves 
and  answered  nothing,  the  queen  reminded  the 
king  that  there  was  a  certain  Hebrew,  Daniel  by 
name,  who  had  formerly  revealed  to  Nabucho- 
donosor a  dream  containing  a  secret  mystery, 
and  had  then,  on  account  of  his  remarkable  wis- 
dom, been  promoted  to  the  highest  honors. 
Accordingly,  he,  being  sent  for,  read  and  inter- 
preted the  writing,  to  the  effect  that,  on  account 
of  the  sin  of  the  king,  who  had  profaned  vessels 
sacred  to  God,  destruction  impended  over  him, 
and  that  his  kingdom  was  given  to  the  Medes 
and  Persians.  And  this  presently  took  place. 
For,  on  the  same  night,  Balthasar  perished,  and 
Darius,  a  Mede  by  nation,  took  possession  of  his 
kingdom.  He  again,  finding  that  Daniel  was 
held  in  the  highest  reputation,  placed  him  at 
the  head  of  the  whole  empire,  in  this  following 
the  judgment  of  the  kings  who  had  preceded 
him.  For  Nabuchodonosor  had  also  set  him 
over  the  kidgdom,  and  Balthasar  had  presented 
him  with  a  purple  robe  and  a  golden  chain, 
while  he  also  constituted  him  the  third  ruler  in 
the  kin  axiom. 


1  "in  versum  ductae  literae":  various  emendations  have  been 
proposed,  but  the  text  may  stand.  The  meaning  appears  to  be  that 
the  letters  were  not  thrown  together  at  random,  but  so  placed  as  to 
form  words. 


IOO 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Those,  therefore,  who  were  possessed  of  power 
along  with  him,  stimulated  by  envy,  because  a 
foreigner  belonging  to  a  captive  nation  had  been 
placed  on  a  footing  of  equality  with  them,  con- 
strain the  king,  who  had  been  corrupted  by  flat- 
tery, to  enact  that  divine  honors  should  be  paid 
to  him  for  the  next  thirty  days,  and  that  it  should 
not  be  lawful  for  any  one  to  pray  to  a  god  except 
the  king.  Darius  was  easily  persuaded  to  that, 
through  the  folly  of  all  kings  who  claim  for 
themselves  divine  honors.  In  these  circum- 
stances, Daniel  being  not  unacquainted  with 
what  had  happened,  and  not  being  ignorant  that 
prayer  ought  to  be  addressed  to  God,  and  not  to 
man,  is  accused  of  not  having  obeyed  the  king's 
commandment.  And  much  against  the  will  of 
Darius,  to  whom  he  had  always  been  dear  and 
acceptable,  the  rulers  prevailed  that  he  should 
be  let  down  into  a  den.1  But  no  harm  came  to 
him  when  thus  exposed  to  the  wild  beasts.  And 
on  the  king  discovering  this,  he  ordered  his  ac- 
cusers to  be  given  over  to  the  lions.  They,  how- 
ever, did  not  pass  through  a  similar  experience, 
for  they  were  instantly  devoured  to  satisfy  the 
hunger  of  the  savage  beasts.  Daniel,  who  had 
been  famous  before,  was  now  esteemed  still 
more  famous ;  and  the  king,  repealing  his  for- 
mer edict,  issued  a  new  one  to  the  effect  that, 
all  errors  and  superstitions  being  abandoned,  the 
God  of  Daniel  was  to  be  worshiped.  There 
exists  also  a  record  of  visions  of  Daniel,  in 
which  he  revealed  the  order  of  events  in  com- 
ing ages,  embracing  in  them  also  the  number  of 
the  years,  within  which  he  announced  that  Christ 
would  descend  to  earth  (as  has  taken  place), 
and  clearly  set  forth  the  future  coming  of  Anti- 
christ. If  any  one  is  eager  to  inquire  into  these 
points,  he  will  find  them  more  fully  treated  of  in 
the  book  of  Daniel :  our  design  is  simply  to 
present  a  connected  statement  of  events.  Darius 
is  related  to  have  reigned  eighteen  years  ;  after 
which  date  Astyages  began  to  rule  over  the 
Medes. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Him  Cyrus,  his  grandson  by  his  daughter,  ex- 
pelled from  the  kingdom,  having  used  the  arms 
of  the  Persians  for  the  purpose  ;  and  hence  the 
chief  power  was  transferred  to  the  Persians. 
The  Babylonians  also  fell  under  his  power  and 
government.  It  happened  at  the  beginning  of 
his  reign  that,  by  the  issue  of  public  edicts,  he 
gave  permission  to  the  Jews  to  return  into  their 
own  country ;  and  he  also  restored  the  sacred 


lacum  "  :  twice  used  before  in  the  sense  of  ///. 


vessels  which  Nabuchodonosor  had  carried  away 
from  the  temple  at  Jerusalem.  Accordingly,  a 
few  then  returned  into  Judaea ;  as  to  the  others, 
we  have  not  been  able  to  discover  whether  the 
desire  of  returning,  or  the  power  of  doing  so, 
was  wanting.  There  was  at  that  time  among 
the  Babylonians  a  brazen  image  of  Belus,  a  very 
ancient  king,  whom  Virgil  also  has  mentioned.1 
This  having  been  deemed  sacred  by  the  super- 
stition of  the  people,  Cyrus  also  had  been  ac- 
customed to  worship,  being  deceived  by  the 
trickery  of  its  priests.  They  affirmed  that  the 
image  ate  and  drank,  while  they  themselves 
secretly  carried  off  the  daily  portion  which  was 
offered  to  the  idol.  Cyrus,  then,  being  on  inti- 
mate terms  with  Daniel,  asked  him  why  he  did 
not  worship  the  image,  since  it  was  a  manifest 
symbol  of  the  living  God,  as  consuming  those 
things  which  were  offered  to  it.  Daniel,  laugh- 
ing at  the  mistake  of  the  man,  replied  that  it 
could  not  possibly  be  the  case,  that  that  work 
of  brass  —  mere  insensate  matter  —  could  use 
either  meat  or  drink.  The  king,  therefore,  or- 
dered the  priests  to  be  called  (they  were  about 
seventy  in  number)  ;  and,  bringing  terror  to 
bear  upon  them,  he  reprovingly  asked  them  who 
was  in  the  way  of  consuming  what  was  offered, 
since  Daniel,  a  man  distinguished  for  his  wis- 
dom, maintained  that  that  could  not  be  done  by 
an  insensate  image.  Then  they,  trusting  in  their 
ready-made  trick,  ordered  the  usual  offering  to 
be  made,  and  the  temple  to  be  sealed  up  by  the 
king,  on  the  understanding  that,  unless  on  the 
following  day  the  whole  offering  were  found  to 
have  been  consumed,  they  should  suffer  death, 
while,  on  the  opposite  being  discovered,  the 
same  fate  awaited  Daniel.  Accordingly,  the 
temple  was  sealed  up  by  the  signet  of  the  king ; 
but  Daniel  had  previously,  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  priests,  covered  the  floor  of  it  with 
ashes,  so  that  their  footprints  might  betray  the 
clandestine  approaches  of  those  who  entered. 
The  king,  then,  having  entered  the  temple  on 
the  following  day,  perceived  that  those  things 
had  been  taken  away,  which  he  had  ordered  to 
be  served  up  to  the  idol.  Then  Daniel  lays  open 
the  secret  fraud  by  the  betraying  footprints, 
showing  that  the  priests,  with  their  wives  and 
children,  had  entered  the  temple  by  a  hole 
opened  from  below,  and  had  devoured  those 
things  which  were  served  up  to  the  idol.  Ac- 
cordingly, all  of  them  were  put  to  death  by  the 
order  of  the  king,  while  the  temple  and  image 
were  submitted  to  the  power  of  Daniel,  and 
were  destroyed  at  his  command. 


1  The  reference  is  to  JEn.  I.  729,  but  Sigonius  and  others  have 
suspected  the  words  as  being  a  gloss.  They  are,  however,  probably 
genuine.     Virgil's  words  are, — 

"  Hie  regina  gravem  gemmis  auroque  poposcit 
Implevitque  mero  paternam,  quam  Belus  et  omnes 
A  Belo  soliti;   turn  facta  silentia  tectis." 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


IOI 


CHAPTER   IX. 

In  the  meantime,  those  Jews,  who,  as  we  have 
said  above,  returned  into  their  native  land  by 
the  permission  of  Cyrus,  attempted  to  restore 
their  city  and  temple.  But,  being  few  and  poor, 
they  made  but  little  progress,  until,  at  last,  after 
the  lapse  of  about  a  hundred  years,  while  Arta- 
xerxes  the  king  ruled  over  the  Persians,  they 
were  absolutely  deterred  from  building  by  those 
who  had  local  authority.  For,  at  that  time, 
Syria  and  all  Judaea  was  ruled  under  the  empire 
of  the  Persians  by  magistrates  and  governors. 
Accordingly,  these  took  counsel  to  write  to  king 
Artaxerxes,  that  it  was  not  fitting  that  opportu- 
nity should  be  granted  to  the  Jews  of  rebuilding 
their  city,  lest,  in  accordance  with  their  stubborn 
character,  and  being  accustomed  to  rule  over 
other  nations,  they  should,  on  recovering  their 
strength,  not  submit  to  live  under  the  sway  of  a 
foreign  power.  Thus,  the  plan  of  the  rulers 
being  approved  of  by  the  king,  the  building  of 
the  city  was  put  a  stop  to,  and  delayed  until  the 
second  year  of  Darius  the  king.  But,  who  were 
kings  of  Persia  throughout  this  period  of  time, 
we  shall  here  insert,  in  order  that  the  succession 
of  the  dates  may  be  set  forth  in  a  regular  and 
fixed  order.  Well,  then,  after  Darius  the  Mede, 
who,  as  we  have  said  above,  reigned  eighteen 
years,  Cyrus  held  the  supreme  power  for  thirty- 
one  years.  While  making  war  upon  the  Scyth- 
ians, he  fell  in  battle,  in  the  second  year  after 
Tarquinius  Superbus  began  to  reign  at  Rome. 
To  Cyrus  succeeded  his  son  Cambyses,  and 
reigned  eight  years.  He,  after  harassing  with 
war  Egypt  and  Ethiopia,  and  subduing  these 
countries,  returned  as  victor  to  Persia,  but  acci- 
dentally hurt  himself,  and  died  from  that  wound. 
After  his  death,  two  brothers,  who  were  magi, 
and  Medes  by  nation,  held  rule  over  the  Per- 
sians for  seven  months.  To  slay  these,  seven 
of  the  most  noble  of  the  Persians  formed  a  con- 
spiracy, of  whom  the  leader  was  Darius,  the  son 
of  Hystaspes,  who  was  a  cousin  of  Cyrus,  and 
by  unanimous  consent  the  kingdom  was  bestowed 
on  him  :  he  reigned  thirty  and  six  years.  He, 
four  years  before  his  death,  fought  at  Marathon, 
in  a  battle  greatly  celebrated  both  in  Creek  and 
Roman  history.  That  took  place  about  the  two 
hundred  and  sixtieth  year  after  the  founding  of 
Rome,  while  Macerinus  and  Augurinus  were 
consuls,  that  is,  eight  hundred  and  eighty-eight 
years  ago,  provided  the  research  I  have  made 
into  the  succession  of  Roman  consuls  does  not 
deceive  me  ;  for  I  have  made  the  entire  reckon- 
ing down  to  the  time  of  Stilico.1  After  Darius 
came  Xerxes,  and  he  is  said  to  have  reigned 
twenty-one   years,  although   I   have   found   that 

1  Stilico  was  consul  during  the  lifetime  of  Sulpitius. 


the  length  of  his  rule  is,  in  most  copies,2  set 
down  at  twenty  and  five  years.  To  him  suc- 
ceeded Artaxerxes,,  of  whom  we  have  made 
mention  above.  Since  he  ordered  the  building 
of  the  Jewish  city  and  temple  to  be  stopped, 
the  work  was  suspended  to  the  second  year  of 
king  Darius.  But  that  the  succession  of  dates 
may  be  completed  up  to  him,  I  have  to  state 
that  Artaxerxes  reigned  forty-one  years,  Xerxes 
two  months,  and  that,  after  him,  Sucdianus 
ruled  for  seven  months. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Next,  Darius,  under  whom  the  temple  was 
restored,  obtained  the  kingdom,  his  name  being 
at  that  time  Ochus.  He  had  three  Hebrew 
youths  of  tried  fidelity  as  his  body-guard,  and 
one  of  these  had,  from  the  proof  of  his  prudence 
which  he  had  given,  attracted  towards  himself 
the  admiration  of  the  king.  The  choice,  then, 
being  given  him  of  asking  for  anything  which 
he  had  formed  a  desire  for  in  his  heart,  groaning 
over  the  ruins  of  his  country,  he  begged  permis- 
sion to  restore  the  city,  and  obtained  an  order 
from  the  king  to  urge  the  lieutenants  and  rulers 
to  hurry  forward  the  building  of  the  holy  temple, 
and  furnish  the  expense  needful  to  that  end. 
Accordingly,  the  temple  was  completed  in  four 
years ;  that  is,  in  the  sixth  year  after  Darius 
began  to  reign,  and  that  seemed,  for  the  time, 
enough  to  the  people  of  the  Jews.  For,  as  it 
was  a  work  of  great  labor  to  restore  the  city, 
distrusting  their  own  resources,  they  did  not 
venture  at  the  time  to  begin  an  undertaking  of 
so  great  difficulty,  but  were  content  with  having 
rebuilt  the  temple.  At  the  same  time,  Esdras 
the  scribe,  who  was  skilled  in  the  law,  about 
twenty  years  after  the  temple  had  been  com- 
pleted (Darius  being  now  dead  who  had  pos- 
sessed the  sovereignty  for  nineteen  years),  by 
the  permission  of  Artaxerxes  the  second  (not  he 
who  had  a  place  between  the  two  Xerxes,  but 
he  who  had  succeeded  to  Darius  Ochus),  set 
out  from  Babylon  with  many  following  him,  and 
they  carried  to  Jerusalem  the  vessels  of  various 
workmanship,  as  well  as  the  gifts  which  the  king 
had  sent  for  the  temple  of  God.  Along  with 
them  were  but  twelve  Levites  ;  for  with  difficulty 
that  number  of  the  tribe  is  related  then  to  have 
been  found.  He,  having  found  that  the  Jews 
had  united  in  marriage  with  the  Gentiles,  rebuked 
them  severely  on  that  account,  and  ordered 
them  to  renounce  all  connections  of  that  kind, 
as  well  as  to  put  away  the  children  which  had 
been  the  issue  of  such  marriages  ;  and  all  yielded 
obedience  to  his  word.     The  people,  then,  being 


2  "in   plerisque  exemplaribus  ":  the  MSS.  varying,  as  they  so 
often  do,  with  respect  to  numbers. 


102 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


sanctified,  performed  the  rites  sanctioned  by 
the  ancient  law.  But  I  do  not  find  that  Esdras 
did  anything  with  the  view  of  restoring  the 
city ;  because  he  thought,  as  I  imagine,  that  a 
more  urgent  duty  was  to  reform  the  people 
from  the  corrupt  habits  which  they  had  con- 
tracted. 


CHAPTER  XL 

There  was  at  that  time  at  Babylon  one  Nehe- 
miah,  a  servant  of  the  king,  a  Jew  by  birth,  and 
very  much  beloved  by  Artaxerxes  on  account  of 
the  services  he  had  rendered.  He,  having  in- 
quired of  his  fellow-countrymen  the  Jews,  what 
was  the  condition  of  their  ancestral  city ;  and 
having  learned  that  his  native  land  remained  in 
the  same  fallen  condition  as  before,  is  said  to 
have  been  disturbed  with  all  his  heart,  and 
to  have  prayed  to  God  with  groans  and  many 
tears.  He  also  called  to  mind  the  sins  of  his 
nation,  and  urgently  entreated  the  divine  com- 
passion. Accordingly,  the  king  noticing  that  he, 
while  waiting  at  table,  seemed  more  sorrowful 
than  usual,  asked  him  to  explain  the  reasons  of 
his  grief.  Then  he  began  to  bewail  the  misfor- 
tunes of  his  nation,  and  the  ruin  of  his  ancestral 
city,  which  now,  for  almost  two  hundred  and  fifty 
years,  being  leveled  with  the  ground,  furnished 
a  proof  of  the  evils  which  had  been  endured, 
and  a  gazing-stock  to  their  enemies.  He  there- 
fore begged  the  king  to  grant  him  the  liberty 
of  going  and  restoring  it.  The  king  yielded  to 
these  dutiful  entreaties,  and  immediately  sent 
him  away  with  a  guard  Of  cavalry,  that  he  might 
the  more  safely  accomplish  his  journey,  giving 
him,  at  the  same  time,  letters  to  the  rulers  re- 
questing them  to  furnish  him  with  all  that  was 
necessary.  When  he  arrived  at  Jerusalem,  he 
distributed  the  work  connected  with  the  city  to 
the  people,  man  by  man ;  and  all  vied  with  each 
other  in  carrying  out  the  orders  which  they 
received.  And  already  the  work  of  rebuilding  l 
had  been  half  accomplished,  when  the  jealousy 
of  the  surrounding  heathen  burst  out,  and  the 
neighboring  cities  conspired  to  interrupt  the 
works,  and  to  deter  the  Jews  from  building. 
But  Nehemiah,  having  stationed  guards  against 
those  making  assaults  upon  the  people,  was  in 
no  degree  alarmed,  and  carried  out  what  he 
had  begun.  And  thus,  after  the  wall  was  com- 
pleted, and  the  entrances  of  the  gates  finished, 
he  measured  out  the  city  for  the  construction 
by  families  of  houses  within  it.  He  reckoned, 
also,  that  the  people  were  not  adequate  in  num- 
bers to  the  size  of  the  city  ;  for  there  were  not 
more  of  them  than  fiftv  thousand  of  both  sexes 


1  "  jamque  ad  medium  machinae  processerant." 


and  of  all  ranks  —  to  such  an  extent  had  their 
formerly  enormous  numbers  been  reduced  by 
frequent  wars,  and  by  the  multitude  kept  in 
captivity.  For,  of  old,  those  two  tribes,  of 
whom  the  remaining  people  were  all  that  sur- 
vived, had,  when  the  ten  tribes  were  separated 
from  them,  be-en  able  to  furnish  three  hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  armed  men.  But  being 
given  up  by  God,  on  account  of  their  sin,  to 
death  and  captivity,  they  had  sunk  down  to  the 
miserably  small  number  which  they  now  pre- 
sented. This  company,  however,  as  I  have 
said,  consisted  only  of  the  two  tribes  :  the  ten2 
which  had  previously  been  carried  away  being 
scattered  among  the  Parthians,  Medes,  Indians, 
and  Ethiopians  never  returned  to  their  native 
country,  and  are  to  this  day  held  under  the 
sway  of  barbarous  nations.  But  the  completion 
of  the  restored  city  is  related  to  have  been 
effected  in  the  thirty-second  year  of  the  reign 
of  Artaxerxes.  From  that  time  to  the  crucifixion 
of  Christ ;  that  is,  to  the  time  when  Fufius  Gem- 
inus  and  Rubellius  were  consuls,  there  elapsed 
three  hundred  and  ninety  and  eight  years.  But 
from  the  restoration  of  the  temple  to  its  de- 
struction, which  was  completed  by  Titus  under 
Vespasian,  when  Augustus  was  consul,  there  was 
a  period  of  four  hundred  and  eighty-three  years. 
That  was  formerly  predicted  by  Daniel,  who 
announced  that  from  the  restoration  of  the 
temple  to  its  overthrow  there  would  elapse 
seventy  and  nine  weeks.  Now,  from  the  date 
of  the  captivity  of  the  Jews  until  the  time  of  the 
restoration  of  the  city,  there  were  two  hundred 
and  sixty  years. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

At  this  period  of  time  we  think  Esther  and 
Judith  lived,  but  I  confess  that  I  cannot  easily 
perceive  with  what  kings  especially  I  should 
connect  the  actions  of  their  lives.  For,  while 
Esther  is  said  to  have  lived  under  King  Arta- 
xerxes, I  find  that  there  were  two  Persian  kings 
of  that  name,  and  there  is  much  hesitation  in 
concluding  to  which  of  these  her  date  is  to  be 
assigned.  However,  it  has  seemed  preferable 
to  me  to  connect  the  history  of  Esther  with 
that  Artaxerxes  under  whom  Jerusalem  was 
restored,  because  it  is  not  likely  that,  if  she  had 
lived  under  the  former  Artaxerxes,  whose  times 
Esdras  has  given  an  account  of,  he  would  have 
made  no  mention  of  such  an  illustrious  woman. 
This  is  all  the  more  convincing   since  we  know 


2  Our  author  here  touches  upon  a  most  interesting  question  — 
the  ultimate  destiny  of  the  ten  tribes.  He  seems  to  imply  that  none 
of  them  returned  to  Palestine,  but  were  wholly  absorbed  among  the 
Gentile  nations.  That,  however,  cannot  be  correct,  for  it  was  still 
possible,  in  the  time  of  Christ,  to  speak  of  some  as  connected  with 
the  tribe  of  Asher,  one  of  the  ten  tribes.     See  Luke  ii.  36. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


103 


that  the  building  of  the  temple  was  (as  we  have 
related  above)  prohibited  by  that  Artaxerxes, 
and  Esther  would  not  have  allowed  that  had 
she  then  been  united  with  him  in  marriage. 
But  I  will  now  repeat  what  things  she  accom- 
plished. There  was  at  that  time  a  certain 
Vastis  connected  with  the  king  in  marriage,  a 
woman  of  marvelous  beauty.  Being  accus- 
tomed to  extol  her  loveliness  to  all,  he  one  day, 
when  he  was  giving  a  public  entertainment, 
ordered  the  queen  to  attend  for  the  purpose  of 
exhibiting  her  beauty.  But  she,  more  prudent 
than  the  foolish  king,  and  being  too  modest  to 
make  a  show  of  her  person  before  the  eyes  of 
men,  refused  compliance  with  his  orders.  His 
savage  mind  was  enraged  by  this  insult,  and  he 
drove  her  forth,  both  from  her  condition  of 
marriage  with  him  and  from  the  palace.  Con- 
sequently, when  a  young  woman  was  sought 
after  to  take  her  place  as  the  wife  of  the  king, 
Esther  was  found  to  excel  all  others  in  beauty. 
She  being  a  Jewess  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin, 
and  an  orphan,  without  father  or  mother,  had 
been  brought  up  by  her  cousin-german,1  Mar- 
dochseus.  On  being  espoused  to  the  king,  she, 
by  the  instructions  of  him  who  had  brought  her 
up,  concealed  her  nation  and  fatherland,  and 
was  also  admonished  by  him  not  to  become 
forgetful  of  her  ancestral  traditions,  nor,  though 
as  a  captive  she  had  entered  into  marriage  with 
a  foreigner,  to  take  part  in  the  food  of  the 
heathen.  Thus,  then,  being  united  to  the  king, 
she,  in  a  short  time,  as  was  to  be  expected, 
easily  captivated  his  whole  mind  by  the  power 
of  her  beauty,  so  that,  equalizing  her  with  him- 
self in  the  emblem  of  sovereign  power,  he  pre- 
sented her  with  a  purple  robe. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

At  this  time,  Mardochseus  was  among  those 
nearest  to  the  king,  having  entirely  under  his 
charge  the  affairs  of  the  household.  He  had 
made  known  to  the  king  a  plot  which  had  been 
formed  by  two  eunuchs,  and,  on  that  account, 
had  become  a  greater  favorite,  while  he  was  pre- 
sented with  the  highest  honors.  There  was  at 
that  period  one  Haman,  a  very  confidential 
friend  of  the  king,  whom  he  had  made  equal  to 
himself  and,  after  the  manner  of  sovereign  rulers, 
had  ordered  to  be  worshiped.  Mardochseus 
being  the  one  man  among  all  who  refused  to  do 
that,  had  greatly  kindled  the  wrath  of  the  Per- 
sian against  himself.  Accordingly,  Haman  set- 
ting his  mind  to  work  the  ruin  of  the  Hebrew, 
went  to  the  king,  and  affirmed  that  there  was  in 


1  "  patruele   patre  ";    words   which  have   much   perplexed   the 
editors. 


his  kingdom  a  race  of  men  of  wicked  supersti- 
tions, and  hateful  alike  to  God  and  men.  He 
said  that,  as  they  lived  according  to  foreign  laws, 
they  deserved  to  be  destroyed  ;  and  that  it  was 
a  righteous  thing  to  hand  over  the  whole  of  this 
nation  to  death.  At  the  same  time,  he  promised 
the  king  immense  wealth  out  of  their  posses- 
sions. The  barbarous  prince  was  easily  per- 
suaded, and  an  edict  was  issued  for  the  slaughter 
of  the  Jews,  while  men  were  at  once  sent  out  to 
publish  it  through  the  whole  kingdom  from 
India  even  to  Ethiopia.  When  Mardoch?eus 
heard  of  this,  he  rent  his  clothes,  clothed  him- 
self in  sackcloth,  scattered  ashes  upon  his  head, 
and,  going  to  the  palace,  he  there  made  the 
whole  place  resound  with  his  wailing  and  com- 
plaints, crying  out  that  it  was  an  unworthy  thing 
that  an  innocent  nation  should  perish,  while 
there  existed  no  ground  for  its  destruction. 
Esther's  attention  was  attracted  by  the  voice  of 
lamentation,  and  she  learned  how  the  case  really 
stood.  But  she  was  then  at  a  loss  what  step  she 
should  take  (for,  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
Persians,  the  queen  is  not  permitted  access  to 
the  king,  unless  she  has  been  sent  for,  and 
indeed  is  not  admitted  at  any  time  the  king 
may  please,  but  only  at  a  fixed  period)  ;  and  it 
happened  at  the  time,  that  by  this  rule,  Esther 
was  held  as  separated  from  the  presence  of  the 
king  for  the  next  thirty  days.  However,  think- 
ing that  she  ought  to  run  some  risk  in  behalf  of 
her  fellow-countrymen,  even  should  sure  destruc- 
tion await  her,  she  was  prepared  to  encounter 
death  in  such  a  noble  cause,  and,  after  having 
called  upon  God,  she  entered  the  court  of  the 
king.  But  the  barbarian,  though  at  first  amazed 
at  this  unusual  occurrence,  was  gradually  won 
over  by  female  blandishments,  and  at  length 
went  so  far  as  to  accompany  the  queen  to  a  ban- 
quet which  she  had  prepared.  Along  with  him 
also  went  Haman,  the  favorite  of  the  king,  but 
a  deadly  enemy  of  the  nation  of  the  Jews. 
Well,  when  after  the  feasting  the  banquet  began 
to  become  jovial  through  the  many  cups  which 
were  drank,  Esther  cast  herself  down  at  the 
knees  of  the  king,  and  implored  him  to  stay  the 
destruction  which  threatened  her  nation.  Then 
the  king  promised  to  refuse  nothing  to  her 
entreaties,  if  she  had  any  further  request  to 
make.  Esther  at  once  seized  the  opportunity, 
and  demanded  the  death  of  Haman  as  a  satis- 
faction to  her  nation,  which  he  had  desired  to 
see  destroyed.  But  the  king  could  not  forget 
his  friend,  and  hesitating  a  little,  he  withdrew 
for  a  short  time  for  the  purpose  of  considering 
the  matter.  He  then  returned,  and  when  he 
saw  Haman  grasping  the  knees  of  the  queen, 
excited  with  rage,  and,  crying  out  that  violence 
was  being  applied  to  the  queen,  he  ordered  him 
to  be  put  to  death.     It  then  came  to  the  knowl- 


io4 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


edge  of  the  king  that  a  cross1  had  been  got 
ready  by  Hainan  on  which  Mardochteus  was  to 
suffer.  Thus,  Hainan  was  fixed  to  that  very 
cross,  and  all  his  goods  were  handed  over  to 
Mardochseus,  while  the  Jews  at  large  were  set 
free.  Artaxerxes  reigned  sixty  and  two  years, 
and  was  succeeded  by  Ochus. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

To  this  series  of  events  it  will  be  right  that 
I  should  append  an  account  of  the  doings  of 
Judith ;  for  she  is  related  to  have  lived  after  the 
captivity,  but  the  sacred  history  has  not  revealed 
who  was  king  of  the  Persians  in  her  day.  It, 
however,  calls  the  king  under  whom  her  exploits 
were  performed  by  the  name  of  Nabuchodo- 
nosor,  and  that  was  certainly  not  the  one  who 
took  Jerusalem.  But  I  do  not  find  that  any  one 
of  that  name  reigned  over  the  Persians  after  the 
captivity,  unless  it  be  that,  on  account  of  the  1 
wrath  and  like  endeavors  which  he  manifested, 
any  king  acting  so  was  styled  Nabuchodonosor 
by  the  Jews.  Most  persons,  however,  think  that 
it  was  Cambyses,  the  son  of  Cyrus,  on  this 
ground  that  he,  as  a  conqueror,  penetrated  into 
Egypt  and  Ethiopia.  But  the  sacred  history  is 
opposed  to  this  opinion  ;  for  Judith  is  described 
as  having  lived  in  the  twelfth  year  of  the  king  in 
question.  Now,  Cambyses  did  not  possess  the 
supreme  power  for  more  than  eight  years. 
Wherefore,  if  it  is  allowable  to  make  a  conjec- 
ture on  a  point  of  history,  I  should  be  inclined 
to  believe  that  her  exploits  were  performed 
under  king  Ochus,  who  came  after  the  second 
Artaxerxes.  I  found  this  conjecture  on  the 
fact  that  (as  I  have  read  in  profane  histories) 
he  is  related  to  have  been  by  nature  cruel  and 
fond  of  war.  For  he  both  engaged  in  hostilities 
with  his  neighbors,  and  recovered  by  wars  Egypt, 
which  had  revolted  many  years  before.  At  that 
time,  also,  he  is  related  to  have  ridiculed  •  the 
sacred  rites  of  the  Egyptians  and  Apis,  who 
was  regarded  by  them  as  a  god  ;  a  tiling  which 
Baguas,  one  of  his  eunuchs,  an  Egyptian  by 
nation,  and  indignant  at  the  king's  conduct, 
afterwards  avenged  by  the  death  of  the  king, 
considering  that  the  king  had  insulted  the  race 
to  which  he  belonged.  Now,  the  inspired 2  his- 
tory makes  mention  of  this  Baguas  ;  for,  when 
Holofernes  by  the  order  of  the  king  led  an 
army  against  the  Jews,  it  has  related  that  Baguas 
was  among  the  host.  Wherefore,  not  without 
reason  may  I  bring  it  forward  in  proof  of  the 
opinion    I    have    expressed  that  that  king  who 

1  "  poenam  crucis":  after  the  Greek. 
■  1  The  text  is  here  uncertain. 
-  "  historia   divina "  :    the   writer   applies   these  words    to   the 
book  of  Judith. 


was  named  Nabuchodonosor  was  really  Ochus, 
since  profane  historians  have  related  that  Baguas 
lived  in  his  reign.  But  this  ought  not  to  be 
felt  at  all  remarkable  by  any  one,  that  mere 
worldly  writers  have  not  touched  on  any  of 
those  points  which  are  recorded  in  the  sacked 
writings.  The  spirit  of  God  thus  took  care  that 
the  history  should  be  strictly  confined  within  its 
own  mysteries,  unpolluted  by  any  corrupt  mouth, 
or  that  which  mingled  truth  with  fiction.  That 
history  being,  in  fact,  separated  from  the  affairs 
of  the  world,  and  of  a  kind  to  be  expressed  only 
in  sacred  words,  clearly  ought  not  to  have  been 
mixed  up  with  other  histories,  as  being  on  a 
footing  of  equality  with  them.  For  it  would 
have  been  most  unbecoming  that  this  history 
should  be  commingled  with  others  treating  of 
other  things,  or  pursuing  different  inquiries.  But 
I  will  now  proceed  to  what  remains,  and  will 
narrate  in  as  few  words  as  I  can  the  acts  per- 
formed by  Judith. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Jews,  then,  having  returned,  as  we  have 
narrated  above,  to  their  native  land,  and  the 
condition  of  their  affairs  and  of  their  city  being 
not  yet  properly  settled,  the  king  of  the  Persians 
made  war  on  the  Medes,  and  engaged  in  a  suc- 
cessful battle  against  their  king,  who  was  named 
Arphaxad.  That  monarch  being  slain,  he  added 
the  nation  to  his  empire.  He  did  the  same  to 
other  nations,  having  sent  before  him  Holofernes 
whom  he  had  appointed  master  of  his  host,  with 
a  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  foot-soldiers, 
and  twelve  thousand  cavalry.  He,  after  having 
ravaged  in  war,  Cilicia  and  Arabia,  took  many 
cities  by  force,  or  compelled  them  through  fear 
to  surrender.  And  now  the  army,  having  moved 
on  to  Damascus,  had  struck  the  Jews  with  great 
terror.  But  as  they  were  unable  to  resist,  and 
as,  at  the  same  time,  they  could  not  bring  their 
minds  to  acquiesce  in  the  thought  of  surrender, 
since  they  had  previously  known  from  experi- 
ence the  miseries  of  slavery,  they  betook  them- 
selves in  crowds  to  the  temple.  There,  with  a 
general  groaning  and  commingled  wailing,  they 
implored  the  divine  assistance  ;  saying  that  they 
had  been  sufficiently  punished  by  God  for  their 
sins  and  offenses ;  and  begging  him  to  spare 
the  remnant  of  them  who  had  recently  been  de- 
livered from  slavery.  In  the  meantime,  Holo- 
fernes had  admitted  the  Moabites  to  surrender, 
and  joined  them  to  himself  as  allies  in  the  war 
against  the  Jews.  He  inquired  of  their  chief 
men  what  was  the  power  on  which  the  Hebrews 
relied  in  not  bringing  their  minds  to  submit  to 
the  thought  of  submission.     In  reply,  a  certain 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


105 


man  called  Achior  stated  to  him  the  facts,  viz.  : 
that  the  Jews  being  worshipers  of  God,  and 
trained  by  their  fathers  to  pious  observances, 
had  formerly  passed  through  a  period  of  slavery 
in  Egypt,  and  that,  brought  out  from  that  coun- 
try by  the  divine  aid,  and  having  passed  over  on 
foot  the  sea  which  was  dried  up  before  them, 
they  had  at  last  conquered  all  the  opposing  na- 
tions, and  recovered  the  territory  inhabited  by 
their  ancestors.  That  subsequently,  with  various 
fluctuations  in  their  affairs,  they  had  either  pros- 
pered or  the  reverse,  that,  when  they  did  sink 
into  adversity,  they  had  again  escaped  from  their 
sufferings,  finding  that  God  was,  in  turn,  either 
angry  against  them,  or  reconciled  towards  them, 
according  to  their  deserts,  so  that,  when  they 
sinned,  they  were  chastised  by  the  attacks  of 
enemies  or  by  being  sent  into  captivity,  but  were 
always  unconquerable  when  they  enjoyed  the 
divine  favor.  So  then,  if  at  the  present  time 
they  are  free  from  guilt,  they  cannot  possibly  be 
subdued  ;  but  if  they  are  otherwise  situated,  they 
will  easily  be  conquered.  Upon  this,  Holofernes, 
flushed  with  many  victories,  and  thinking  that 
everything  must  give  way  before  him,  was  roused 
to  wrath,  because  victory  on  his  part  was  re- 
garded as  principally  depending  on  the  sin  of 
the  Jews,  and  ordered  Achior  to  be  pushed  for- 
ward into  the  camp  of  the  Hebrews,  that  he 
might  perish  in  company  with  those  who  he  had 
affirmed  could  not  be  conquered.  Now,  the 
Jews  had  then  made  for  the  mountains ;  and 
those  to  whom  the  business  had  been  assigned, 
proceeded  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and 
there  left  Achior  in  chains.  When  the  Jews 
perceived  that,  they  freed  him  from  his  bonds 
and  conducted  him  up  the  hill.  On  their  in- 
quiring the  reason  of  what  had  happened,  he 
explained  it  to  them,  and,  being  received  in 
peace,  awaited  the  result.  I  may  add  that,  after 
the  victory,  he  was  circumcised  and  became  a 
Jew.  Well,  Holofernes,  perceiving  the  difficulty 
of  the  localities,  because  he  could  not  reach  the 
heights,  surrounded  the  mountains  with  soldiers, 
and  took  the  greatest  pains  to  cut  off  the  He- 
brews from  all  water  supplies.  On  that  account, 
they,  felt  all  the  sooner  the  misery  of  a  siege. 
Being  therefore  overcome  through  want  of 
water,  they  went  in  a  company  to  Ozias,  their 
leader,  all  inclined  to  make  a  surrender.  But 
he  replied  that  they  should  wait  a  little,  and 
look  for  the  divine  assistance,  so  that  the  time 
of  surrender  was  fixed  for  the  fifth  day  after- 
wards. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

When  this  became  known  to  Judith  (a  widow 
woman   of   great   wealth,    and   remarkable    for 


beauty,  but  still  more  distinguished  for  her 
virtue  than  her  beauty),  who  was  then  in  the 
camp,  she  thought  that,  in  the  distressed  cir- 
cumstances of  her  people,  some  bold  effort 
ought  to  be  made  by  her,  even  though  it  should 
lead  to  her  own  destruction.  She  therefore 
decks  her  head  and  beautifies  her  countenance, 
and  then,  attended  by  a  single  maid-servant, 
she  enter§  the  camp  of  the  enemy.  She  was 
immediately  conducted  to  Holofernes,  and  tells 
him  that  the  affairs  of  her  countrymen  were 
desperate,  so  that  she  had  taken  precautions  for 
her  life  by  flight.  Then  she  begs  of  the  general 
the  right  of  a  free  egress  from  the  camp  during 
night,  for  the  purpose  of  saying  her  prayers. 
That  order  was  accordingly  given  to  the  senti- 
nels and  keepers  of  the  gates.  But  when  by 
the  practice  of  three  days  she  had  established 
for  herself  the  habit  of  going  out  and  returning, 
and  had  also  in  this  way  inspired  belief  in  he^ 
into  the  barbarians,  the  desire  took  possession 
of  Holofernes  of  abusing  the  person  of  his  cap- 
tive ;  for,  being  of  surpassing  beauty,  she  had 
easily  impressed  the  Persian.  Accordingly,  she 
was  conducted  to  the  tent  of  the  general  by 
Baguas,  the  eunuch ;  and,  commencing  a  ban- 
quet, the  barbarian  stupefied  himself  with  a  great 
deal  of  wine.  Then,  when  the  servants  with- 
drew, before  he  offered  violence  to  the  woman, 
he  fell  asleep.  Judith,  seizing  the  opportunity, 
cut  off  the  head  of  the  enemy  and  carried  it 
away  with  her.  Being  regarded  as  simply  going 
out  of  the  camp  according  to  her  usual  custom, 
she  returned  to  her  own  people  in  safety.  On 
the  following  day  the  Hebrews  held  forth  for 
show  the  head  of  Holofernes  from  the  heights ; 
and,  making  a  sally,  marched  upon  the  camp  of 
the  enemy.  And  then  the  barbarians  assemble 
in  crowds  at  the  tent  of  their  general,  waiting 
for  the  signal  of  battle.  When  his  mutilated 
body  was  discovered,  they  turned  to  flight 
under  the  influence  of  a  disgraceful  panic,  and 
fled  before  the  enemy.  The  Jews,  for  their 
part,  pursued  the  fugitives,  and  after  slaying 
many  thousands,  took  possession  of  the  camp 
and  the  booty  within  it.  Judith  was  extolled 
with  the  loftiest  praises,  and  is  said  to  have 
lived  one  hundred  and  five  years.  If  these 
things  took  place,  as  we  believe,  under  king 
Ochus,  in  the  twelfth  year  of  his  reign,  then 
from  the  date  of  the  restoration  of  Jerusalem  up 
to  that  war  there  elapsed  two  and  twenty  years. 
Now  Ochus  reigned  in  all  twenty-three  years. 
And  he  was  beyond  all  others  cruel,  and  more 
than  of  a  barbarous  disposition.  Baguas,  the 
eunuch,  took  him  off  by  poison  on  an  occasion 
of  his  suffering  from  illness.  After  him,  Arses. 
his  son  held  the  government  for  three  years,  and 
Darius  for  four. 


io6 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Against  him  Alexander  of  Macedon  engaged 
in  war.  And  on  his  being  conquered,  the  sover- 
eign power  was  taken  from  the  Persians,  after 
having  lasted,  from  the  time  of  its  establish- 
ment by  Cyrus,  two  hundred  and  fifty  years. 
Alexander,  the  conqueror  of  almost  all  nations, 
is  said  to  have  visited  the  temple  at  Jerusalem, 
and  to  have  conveyed  gifts  into  it ;  and  he  pro- 
claimed throughout  the  whole  territory  which  he 
had  reduced  under  his  sway  that  it  should  be 
free  to  the  Jews  living  in  it  to  return  to  their 
own  country.  At  the  end  of  the  twelfth  year  of 
his  reign,  and  seven  years  after  he  had  con- 
quered Darius,  he  died  at  Babylon.  His  friends 
who,  along  with  him,  had  carried  on  those  very 
important  wars,  divided  his  empire  among  them- 
selves. For  some  time  they  administered  the 
charges  they  had  undertaken  without  making 
use  of  the  name  of  king,  while  a  certain  Arridaeus 
Philippus,  the  brother  of  Alexander,  reigned,  to 
whom,  being  of  a  very  weak  character,  the 
sovereignty  was  nominally  and  in  appearance 
given,  but  the  real  power  was  in  the  hands  of 
those  who  had  divided  among  themselves  the 
army  and  the  provinces.  And  indeed  this 
state  of  things  did  not  long  continue,  but  all 
preferred  that  they  should  be  called  by  the 
name  of  kings.  In  Syria  Seleucus  was  the  first 
king  after  Alexander,  Persia  and  Babylon  being 
also  subject  to  his  sway.  At  that  time  the  Jews 
paid  an  annual  tribute  of  three  hundred  talents 
of  silver  to  the  king ;  but  they  were  governed 
not  by  foreign  magistrates  but  by  their  own 
priests.  And  they  lived  according  to  the  fash- 
ions of  their  ancestors  until  very  many  of  them, 
again  corrupted  by  a  long  peace,  began  to 
mingle  all  things  with  seditions,  and  to  create 
disturbances,  while  they  aimed  at  the  high- 
priesthood  under  the  influence  of  lust,  avarice, 
and  the  desire  of  power. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

For,  first  of  all,  under  king  Seleucus,  the  son 
of  Antiochus  the  great,  a  certain  man  called 
Simon  accused  to  the  king  on  false  charges 
Onias  the  priest,  a  holy  and  uncorrupted  man, 
and  thus  tried,  but  in  vain,  to  overthrow  him. 
Then,  after  an  interval  of  time,  Jason,  the 
brother  of  Onias,  went  to  Antiochus  the  king, 
who  had  succeeded  his  brother  Seleucus,  and 
promised  him  an  increase  of  tribute,  if  the  high- 
priesthood  were  transferred  to  him.  And  al- 
though it  was  an  unusual,  and  indeed,  until  now, 
an  unpermitted  thing  for  a  man  to  enjoy  the 
high-priesthood  year  after  year,  still  the  eager 
mind   of  the   king,   diseased   with   avarice,  was 


easily  persuaded.  Accordingly,  Onias  was  driven 
from  office,  and  the  priesthood  bestowed  on 
Jason.  He  harassed  his  countrymen  and  his 
country  in  the  most  shameful  manner.  Then, 
as  he  had  sent  through  a  certain  Menelaus  (the 
brother  of  that  Simon  who  has  been  mentioned) 
the  money  he  had  promised  to  the  king,  a  way 
being  once  laid  open  to  his  ambition,  Menelaus 
obtained  the  priesthood  by  the  same  arts  which 
Jason  had  employed  before.  But  not  long  after, 
as  he  had  not  furnished  the  promised  amount 
of  money,  he  was  driven  from  his  position,  and 
Lysimachus  substituted  in  his  stead.  Then  there 
arose  disgraceful  conflicts  between  Jason  and 
Menelaus,  until  Jason,  as  an  exile,  left  the  coun- 
try. By  examples  like  these,  the  morals  of  the 
people  became  corrupted  to  such  an  extent,  that 
numbers  of  the  natives  begged  permission  from 
Antiochus  to  live  after  the  fashion  of  the  Gen- 
tiles. And  when  the  king  granted  their  request, 
all  the  most  worthless  vied  with  each  other  in 
their  endeavors  to  construct  temples,  to  sacrifice 
to  idols,  and  to  profane  the  law.  In  the  mean- 
time, Antiochus  returned  from  Alexandria  (for 
he  had  then  made  war  upon  the  king  of  Egypt, 
which,  however,  he  gave  up  by  the  orders  of  the 
senate  and  Roman  people,  when  Paulus  and 
Crassus  were  consuls),  and  went  to  Jerusalem. 
Finding  the  people  at  variance  from  the  diverse 
superstitions  they  had  adopted,  he  destroyed  the 
law  of  God,  and  showed  favor  to  those  who  fol- 
lowed impious  courses,  while  he  carried  off  all 
the  ornaments  of  the  temple,  and  wasted  it  with 
much  destruction.  That  came  to  pass  in  the 
hundred  and  fiftieth  year  after  the  death  of 
Alexander,  Paulus  and  Crassus  being,  as  we 
have  said,  consuls,  about  five  years  after  Antio- 
chus besmn  to  reism. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

But  that  the  order  of  the  dates  may  be  cor- 
rectly preserved,  and  that  it  may  appear  more 
clearly  who  this  Antiochus  was,  Ave  shall  enu- 
merate both  the  names  and  times  of  the  kings 
who  came  after  Alexander  in  Syria.  Well,  then, 
king  Alexander  having  died,  as  we  have  related 
above,  his  whole  empire  was  portioned  out  by 
his  friends,  and  was  governed  for  some  time  by 
them  under  the  name  of  the  king.1  Seleucus, 
after  the  lapse  of  nine  years,  was  himself  styled 
king  in  Syria,  and  reigned  thirty-two  years. 
After  him  came  Antiochus,  his  son,  with  a  reign 
of  twenty-one  years.  Then  came  Antiochus,  the 
son  of  Antiochus,  who  was  surnamed  Theus,  and 
he   reigned   fifteen  years.      After    him,   his  son 


1  They  did  not  themselves,  for  a  time,  assume  the  name  of  king, 
but,  as  said  above,  professed  to  rule  under  the  authority  of  king 
Arridaeus,  brother  of  Alexander. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


107 


Seleucus,  surnamed  Callinicus,  reigned  twenty- 
one  years.  Another  Seleucus,  the  son  of  Calli- 
nicus, reigned  three  years.  After  his  death, 
Antiochus,  the  brother  of  Callinicus,  held  Asia 
and'  Syria  for  thirty-seven  years.  This  is  the 
Antiochus  against  whom  Lucius  Scipio  Asiaticus 
made  war ;  and  he,  being  worsted  in  the  war, 
was  stripped  of  a  part  of  his  empire.  He  had 
two  sons,  Seleucus  and  Antiochus,  the  latter  of 
whom  he  had  given  as  a  hostage  to  the  Romans. 
Thus,  then,  Antiochus  the  great  having  died,  his 
younger  son  Seleucus  obtained  the  kingdom, 
under  whom,  as  we  have  said,  Onias  the  priest 
had  an  accusation  brought  against  him  by  Simon. 
Then  Antiochus  was  set  free  by  the  Romans, 
and  there  was  given  in  his  place  as  hostage 
Demetrius,  the  son  of  Seleucus,  who  was  at  that 
time  reigning.  Seleucus  dying  in  the  twelfth 
year  of  his  reign,  his  brother  Antiochus,  who 
had  been  a  hostage  at  Rome,  seized  the  king- 
dom. He,  five  years  after  the  beginning  of  his 
reign,  did,  as  we  have  shown  above,  lay  waste 
Jerusalem.  For,  as  he  had  to  pay  a  heavy  trib- 
ute to  the  Romans,  he  was  almost  of  necessity 
compelled,  in  order  to  meet  that  enormous  ex- 
pense, to  provide  himself  with  money  by  rapine, 
and  to  neglect  no  opportunity  of  plundering. 
Then,  after  two  years,  the  Jews  being  again 
visited  by  a  similar  disaster  to  that  which  they 
had  suffered  before,  lest  it  should  happen  that, 
driven  on  by  their  numerous  miseries,  they  should 
commence  war,  he  placed  a  garrison  in  the  cita- 
del. Next,  with  the  view  of  overturning  the 
holy  law,  he  published  an  edict,  that  all,  forsak- 
ing the  traditions  of  their  ancestors,  should  live 
after  the  manner  of  the  Gentiles.  And  there 
were  not  wanting  those  who  readily  obeyed  this 
profane  enactment.  Then  truly  there  was  a  hor- 
rible spectacle  presented ;  through  all  the  cities 
sacrifices  were  publicly  offered  in  the  streets, 
while  the  sacred  volumes  of  the  law  and  the 
prophets  were  consumed  with  fire. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

At  that  time,  Matthathias,  the  son  of  John, 
was  high-priest.  When  he  was  being  forced  by 
the  servants  of  the  king  to  obey  the  edict,  with 
marvelous  courage  he  set  at  naught  the  profane 
enactments,  and  slew,  in  the  presence  of  all,  a 
Hebrew  who  was  publicly  performing  profane 
acts.  A  leader  having  thus  been  found,  rebel- 
lion at  once  took  place.  Matthathias  left  the 
town ;  and  as  many  flocked  to  him,  he  got  up 
the  appearance  of  a  regular  army.  The  object' 
of  every  man  in  that  host  was  to  defend  himself 
by  arms  against  a  profane  government,  and 
rather  even  to  fall  in  war  than  to  take  part  in 
impious   ceremonies.     In   the  meantime,  Anti- 


ochus was  compelling  those  Jews  who  were 
found  in  the  Greek  cities  in  his  dominions  to 
offer  sacrifice,  and  was  visiting  with  unheard-of 
torments  those  who  refused.  At  this  time,  there 
occurred  that  well-known  and  remarkable  suffer- 
ing of  the  seven  brothers  and  their  mother. 
All  of  the  brothers,  when  they  were  being 
forced  to  violate  the  law  of  God,  and  the  cus- 
toms of  their  ancestors,  preferred  rather  to  die. 
At  last,  their  mother,  too,  accompanied  them 
both  in  their  sufferings  and  death. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

In  the  meantime,  Matthathias  dies,  having 
appointed  in  his  own  place  his  son  Judah,  as 
general  of  the  army  which  he  had  brought  to- 
gether. Under  his  leadership,  several  success- 
ful battles  took  place  against  the  royal  forces. 
For  first  of  all,  he  destroyed,  along  with  his 
whole  army,  Apollonius,  the  enemy's  general, 
who  had  entered  on  the  conflict  with  a  large 
number  of  troops.  When  a  certain  man,  named 
Seron,  who  was  then  the  ruler  of  Syria,  heard 
of  this,  he  increased  his  forces,  and  attacked 
Judah  with  much  spirit  as  being  superior  in 
numbers,  but  when  a  battle  took  place,  he  was 
routed  and  put  to  flight ;  and  with  the  loss  of 
nearly  eight  hundred  men,  he  returned  to  Syria. 
On  this  becoming  known  to  Antiochus,  he  was 
filled  with  rage  and  regret,  inasmuch  as  it  vexed 
him  that  his  generals  had  been  conquered,  not- 
withstanding their  large  armies.  He  therefore 
gathers  aid  from  his  whole  empire,  and  bestows 
a  donative  on  the  soldiers,  almost  to  the  ex- 
haustion of  his  treasury.  For  he  was  then  suf- 
fering in  a  very  special  manner  from  the  want 
of  money.  The  reason  of  this  was,  on  the  one 
side,  that  the  Jews,  who  had  been  accustomed 
to  pay  him  an  annual  tribute  of  more  than  three 
hundred  talents  of  silver,  were  now  in  a  state 
of  rebellion  against  him  ;  and  on  the  other  side, 
that  many  of  the  Greek  cities  and  countries 
were  unsettled  by  the  evil  of  persecution.  For 
Antiochus  had  not  spared  even  the  Gentiles, 
whom  he  had  sought  to  persuade  to  abandon 
their  long- established  superstitions,  and  to 
draw  over  to  one  kind  of  religious  observance. 
And  no  doubt,  those  of  them  who  regarded 
nothing  as  sacred,  easily  were  induced  to  give 
up  their  ancient  forms  of  worship,'  but  at  the 
same  time  all  were  in  a  state  of  alarm  and  dis- 
aster. ■  For  these  reasons,  then,  the  taxes  had 
ceased  to  be  paid.  Boiling  with  wrath  on  these 
grounds  (for  he  who  had  of  old  been  the  richest 
of  kings  now  deeply  felt  the  poverty  due  to  his 
own  wickedness),  he  divided  his  forces  with 
Lysias,  and  committed  to  him  Syria  and  the 
war  against  the  Jews,  while  he  himself  set  out 


io8 


THE  WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


against  the  Persians,  to  collect  the  taxes  among 
them.  Lysias,  then,  selected  Ptolemy,  Gorgias, 
Doro,  and  Nicanor,  as  generals  in  the  war ;  and 
to  these  he  gave  forty  thousand  infantry,  and 
seven  thousand  cavalry.  At  the  first  onset, 
these  caused  great  alarm  among  the  Jews. 
Then  Judah,  when  all  were  in  despair,  exhorted 
his  men  to  go  with  courageous  hearts  to  battle  — 
that,  if  they  put  their  trust  in  God,  everything 
would  give  way  before  them ;  for  that  often 
before  then  the  victory  had  been  won  by  a  few 
fighting  against  many.  A  fast  was  proclaimed, 
and  sacrifice  was  offered,  after  which  they  went 
down  to  battle.  The  result  was  that  the  forces 
of  the  enemy  were  scattered,  and  Judah,  taking 
possession  of  their  camp,  found  in  it  both  much 
gold  and  Tyrian  treasures.  For  merchants 
from  Syria,  having  no  doubt  as  to  victory,  had 
followed  the  king's  army  with  the  hope  of  pur- 
chasing prisoners,  and  now  were  themselves 
spoiled.  When  these  things  were  reported  to 
Lysias  by  messengers,  he  got  together  troops 
with  still  greater  efforts,  and  in  a  year  after 
again  attacked  the  Jews  with  an  enormous 
army ;  but  being  defeated,  he  retreated  to 
Antioch. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

Judah,  on  the  defeat  of  the  enemy,  returned 
to  Jerusalem,  and  bent  his  mind  on  the  purifi- 
cation and  restoration  of  the  temple,  which  hav- 
ing been  overthrown  by  Antiochus,  and  profaned 
by  the  Gentiles,  presented  a  melancholy  specta- 
cle. But  as  the  Syrians  held  the  citadel,  which 
being  connected  with  the  temple,  but  standing 
above  it  in  position,  was  really  impregnable,  the 
lower  parts  proved  inaccessible,  as  frequent 
sallies  from  above  prevented  persons  from  ap- 
proaching them.  But  Judah  placed  against 
these  assailants  a  very  powerful  body  of  his- men. 
Thus  the  work  of  the  sacred  building  was  pro- 
tected, and  the  temple  was  surrounded  with  a 
wall,  while  armed  men  were  appointed  to  main- 
tain a  perpetual  defence.  And  Lysias,  having 
again  returned  into  Judaea  with  increased  forces, 
was  once  more  defeated  with  a  great  loss  both 
of  his  own  army  and  of  the  auxiliaries,  which 
being  sent  to  him  by  various  states  had  com- 
bined with  him  in  the  war.  In  the  meantime, 
Antiochus,  who,  as  we  have  said  above,  had 
marched  into  Persia,  endeavored  to  plunder  the 
town  of  Elymus,  the  wealthiest  in  the  country, 
and  a  temple  situated  there  which  was  filled 
with  gold  ;  but,  as  a  multitude  flocked  together 
from  all  sides  for  the  defense  of  the  place,  he 
was  put  to  flight.  Moreover,  he  received  news 
of  the  want  of  success  which  had  attended  the 


efforts  of  Lysias.1  Thus,  from  distress  of  mind, 
he  fell  into  bodily  disease.  But  as  he  was  then 
tormented  with  internal  sufferings,  he  remem- 
bered the  miseries  which  he  had  inflicted  on 
the  people  of  God,  and  acknowledged  that  these 
evils  had  deservedly  been  sent  upon  him. 
Then,  after  a  few  days,  he  died,  having  reigned 
eleven  years.  He  left  the  kingdom  to  his  son 
Antiochus,  to  whom  the  name  of  Eupator  was 
given. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

At  that  time  Judah  besieged  the  Syrians  who 
were  posted  in  the  citadel.  They,  being  sore 
pressed  with  famine  and  want  of  all  things,  sent 
messengers  to  the  king  to  implore  assistance. 
Accordingly,  Eupator  came  to  their  aid  with  a 
hundred  thousand  infantry  and  twenty  thousand 
cavalry,  while  elephants  marched  in  front  of  his 
line,  causing  immense  terror  to  the  onlookers. 
Then  Judah,  abandoning  the  siege,  went  to 
meet  the  king,  and  routed  the  Syrians  in  the 
first  battle.  The  king  begged  for  peace,  which, 
because x  he,  with  his  treacherous  disposition, 
made  a  bad  use  of,  vengeance  followed  his 
treachery.  For  Demetrius,  the  son  of  Seleucus, 
who,  we  have  said  above,  was  handed  over  as 
a  hostage  to  the  Romans,  when  he  heard  that 
Antiochus  had  departed,  begged  that  they  would 
send  him  to  take  possession  of  the  kingdom. 
And  when  this  was  refused  to  him,  he  secretly 
fled  from  Rome,  came  into  Syria,  and  seized  the 
supreme  power,  having  slain  the  son  of  Anti- 
ochus, who  had  reigned  one  year  and  six 
months.  It  was  during  his  reign  that  the  Jews 
first  begged  the  friendship  of  the  Roman  people, 
and  alliance  with  them  ;  and  the  embassy  to 
this  effect  having  been  kindly  received,  they 
were,  by  a  decree  of  the  senate,  styled  allies 
and  friends.  In  the  meantime  Demetrius  was, 
by  means  of  his  generals,  carrying  on  war  against 
Judah.  And  first  the  army  was  led  by  a  certain 
man  named  Bacchides,  and  by  Alcimus,  a  Jew ; 
Nicanor,  being  afterwards  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  war,  fell  in  battle.  Then  Bacchides  and 
Alcimus,  recovering  power,  and  having  increased 
their  forces,  fought  against  Judah.  The  Syrians, 
turning  out  victorious  in  that  battle,  cruelly 
abused  their  victory.  The  Hebrews  elect  Jona- 
than, the  brother  of  Judah,  in  his  place.  In  the 
meantime,  Alcimus,  after  he  had  fearfully  deso- 
lated Jerusalem,  dies  ;  Bacchides,  being  thus  de- 
prived of  his  ally,  returns  to  the  king.  Then, 
after  an  interval  of  two  years,  Bacchides  again 
made  war  upon  the  Jews,  and  being  beaten,  he 


1  Some  add  the  words,  "  or  of  Lysimachus,"  but  this  appears  to 
have  been  a  gloss. 

1  The  text  is  here  in  utter  confusion;  we  have  followed  that 
suggested  by  Vorstius. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


109 


begged  for  peace.  This  was  granted  him  on 
certain  conditions,  to  the  effect  that  he  should 
give  up  the  deserters  and  prisoners,  along  with 
all  that  he  had  taken  in  war. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

While  these  things  are  going  on  in  Judaea,  a 
certain  young  man  educated  at  Rhodes,  by 
name  Alexander,  gave  himself  out  as  being  the 
son  of  Antiochus  (which  was  false),  and  assisted 
by  the  power  of  Ptolemy,  king  of  Alexan- 
dria, came  into  Syria  with  an  army.  He  con- 
quered Demetrius  in  war,  and  slew  him  after 
he  had  reigned  twelve  years.  This  Alexander, 
before  he  made  war  against  Demetrius,  had 
formed  an  alliance  with  Jonathan,  and  had  pre- 
sented him  with  a  purple  robe  and  royal  ensigns. 
For  this  reason  Jonathan  had  assisted  him  with 
auxiliary  forces ;  and  on  the  defeat  of  Deme- 
trius, had  been  the  very  first  to  meet  him  with 
congratulations.  Nor  did  Alexander  afterwards 
violate  the  faith  which  he  had  pledged.  Accord- 
ingly, in  the  five  years  during  which  he  held  the 
chief  power,  the  affairs  of  the  Jews  were  peace- 
ful. In  these  circumstances,  Demetrius,  the 
son  of  Demetrius,  who,  after  the  death  of  his 
father,  had  betaken  himself  to  Crete,  at  the  in- 
stigation of  Lasthenes,  general  of  the  Cretans, 
tried  by  war  to  recover  the  kingdom  of  his 
father,  but  finding  his  power  unequal  to  the 
task,  he  implored  Ptolemy  Philometor,  king  of 
Egypt,  the  father-in-law  of  Alexander,  but  who 
was  then  on  bad  terms  with  his  son-in-law,  to 
give  him  assistance.  But  he,  induced  not  so 
much  by  the  entreaties  of  the  suppliant  as  by 
the  hope  of  seizing  Syria,  joined  his  forces  with 
those  of  Demetrius,  and  gives  him  his  daughter, 
who  had  been  married  to  Alexander.  Against 
these  two  Alexander  fought  a  pitched  battle. 
Ptolemy  fell  in  the  fight,  but  Alexander  was  de- 
feated ;  and  he  was  soon  afterwards  slain,  after 
he  had  reigned  five,  or  as  I  find  it  stated  in 
many  authors,  nine  years. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

Demetrius,  having  thus  obtained  the  king- 
dom, treated  Jonathan  with  kindness,  made  a 
treaty  with  him,  and  restored  the  Jews  to  their 
own  laws.  In  the  meantime,  Tryphon,  who  had 
belonged  to  the  party  of  Alexander,  was  ap- 
pointed1 governor  of  Syria,  to  keep  him  in 
check  by  war.     Jonathan,2  on  the  other  hand, 


1  Some  words  have  here  been  lost,  but  the  critics  are  not  agreed 
as  to  what  should  be  supplied. 

2  As  Vorstius  suggests,  we  have  here  taken  Jonathan  as  a  nomi- 
native, but  the  passage  is  very  obscure. 


descended  to  battle,  formidable  with  an  army  of 
forty  thousand  men.  Tryphon,  when  he  saw 
himself  unequal  to  the  contest,  pretended  a 
desire  for  peace,  and  s,lew  Ptolemais  who  had 
been  received  and  invited  into  friendship  with 
him.  After  Jonathan,  the  chief  power  was  con- 
ferred on  his  brother  Simon.  He  celebrated 
the  funeral  of  his  brother  with  great  pomp,  and 
built  those  well-known  seven  pyramids  of  most 
noble  workmanship,  in  which  he  buried  the 
remains  both  of  his  brothers  and  of  his  father. 
Then  Demetrius  renewed  his  treaty  with  the 
Jews  ;  and  in  consideration  of  the  loss  caused 
to  them  by  Tryphon  (for  after  the  death  of 
Jonathan  he  had  wasted  by  war  their  cities  and 
territories),  he  remitted  to  them  their  annual 
tribute  forever ;  for  up  to  that  time,  they  had 
paid  tribute  to  the  kings  of  Syria,  except  when 
they  resisted  by  force  of  arms.  That  took  place 
in  the  second  year  of  king  Demetrius  ;  and  we 
have  noted  that,  because  up  to  this  year  we  have 
run  through  the  times  of  the  Asiatic  kings,  that 
the  series  of  dates  being  given  in  order  might 
be  perfectly  clear.  But  now  we  shall  arrange 
the  order  of  events  through  the  times  of  those, 
who  were  either  high-priests  or  kings  among  the 
Jews,  up  to  the  period  of  the  birth  of  Christ. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Well,  then,  after  Jonathan,  his  brother  Simon, 
as  has  been  said  above,  ruled  over  the  Hebrews 
with  the  power  of  high-priest.  For  that  honor 
was  then  bestowed  upon  him  both  by  his  own 
countrymen  and  by  the  Roman  people.  He 
began  to  rule  over  his  countrymen  in  the  second 
year  of  king  Demetrius,  but  eight  years  after- 
wards, being  deceived  by  a  plot  of  Ptolemy,  he 
met  his  death.  He  was  succeeded  by  his  son 
John.  And  he,  on  the  ground  that  he  had 
fought  with  distinction  against  the  Hyrcani,  a 
very  powerful  nation,  received  the  surname  of 
Hyrcanus.  He  died,  after  having  held  the 
supreme  power  for  twenty-six  years.  After  him, 
Aristobulus  being  appointed  high-priest,  was  the 
first  of  all  living  after  the  captivity  to  assume  the 
name  of  king,  and  to  have  a  crown  placed  upon 
his  head.  At  the  close  of  a  year,  he  died. 
Then  Alexander,  his  son,  who  was  both  king 
and  high-priest,  reigned  twenty-seven  years ; 
but  I  have  found  nothing  in  his  doings  worthy 
of  mention,  except  his  cruelty.  He  having  left 
two  young  sons  named  Aristobulus  and  Hyrca- 
nus, Salina  or  Alexandra,  his  wife,  held  the  sov- 
ereignty for  three  years.  After  his  decease, 
frightful  conflicts  about  the  supreme  power  arose 
between  the  two  brothers.  And  first  of  all, 
Hyrcanus  held  the  government ;  but  being  by 
and  by  defeated  by  his  brother  Aristobulus,  he 


I  IO 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


fled  to  Pompey.  That  Roman  general,  having 
finished  the  war  with  Mithridates,  and  settled 
Armenia  and  Pontus,  being,  in  fact,  the  con- 
queror of  all  the  nations  which  he  had  visited, 
desired  to  march  inwards,1  and  to  add  all  the 
neighboring  regions  to  the  Roman  empire.  He 
therefore  inquired  into  the  causes  of  the  war, 
and  the  means  of  obtaining2  the  mastery.  Ac- 
cordingly he  readily  received  Hyrcanus,  and, 
under  his  guidance,  attacked  the  Jews ;  but 
when  the  city  was  taken  and  destroyed,  he 
spared  the  temple.  He  sent  Aristobulus  in 
chains  to  Rome,  and  restored  the  right  of  the 
high-priesthood  to  Hyrcanus.  Settling  the  trib- 
ute to  be  paid  by  the  Jews,  he  placed  over  them 
as  governor  a  certain  Antipater  of  Askelon. 
Hyrcanus  held  the  chief  power  for  thirty-four 
years ;  but  while  he  carried  on  war  against  the 
Parthians,  he  was  taken  prisoner. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

Then  Herod,  a  foreigner,  the  son  of  Antipater 
of  Askelon,  asked  and  received  the  sovereignty 
of  Judaea  from  the  senate  and  people  of  Rome. 
Under  him,  the  Jews  began  for  the  first  time  to 
have  a  foreigner  as  king.  For  as  now  the  ad- 
vent of  Christ  was  at  hand,  it  was  necessary, 
according  to  the  predictions  of  the  prophets,  that 
they  should  be  deprived  of  their  own  rulers,  that 
they  might  not  look  for  anything  beyond  Christ. 
Under  this  Herod,  in  the  thirty-third  year  of  his 
reign,  Christ  was  born  on  the  twenty-fifth  of 
December  in  the  consulship  of  Sabinus  and 
Rufinus.  But  we  do  not  venture  to  touch  on 
these  things  which  are  contained  in  the  Gospels, 
and  subsequently  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles, 
lest  the  character  of  our  condensed  work  should, 
in  any  measure,  detract  from  the  dignity  of  the 
events ;  and  I  shall  proceed  to  what  remains. 
Herod  reigned  four  years  after  the  birth  of  the 
Lord ;  for  the  whole  period  of  his  reign  com- 
prised thirty-seven  years.  After  him,  came 
Archelaus  the  tetrarch,  for  eight  years,  and 
Herod  for  twenty-four  years.  Under  him,  in 
the  eighteenth  year  of  his  reign,  the  Lord  was 
crucified,  Fufius  Geminus  and  Rubellius  Gem- 
inus  being  consuls ;  from  which  date  up  to  the 
consulship  of  Stilico,  there  have  elapsed  three 
hundred  and  seventy-two  years. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

Luke  made  known  the  doings  of  the  apostles 
up  to  the  time  when  Paul  was  brought  to  Rome 
under  the  emperor  Nero.     As  to  Nero,  I  shall 


1  "  Introrsum,"  towards  home  ;    another   reading   is 
sum,"  farther  oniuards. 

-  "vincendi":  others  read  "  incendii." 


ultror- 


not  say  that  he  was  the  worst  of  kings,  but  that 
he  was  worthily  held  the  basest  of  all  men,  and 
even  of  wild  beasts.  It  was  he  who  first  began  a 
persecution ;  and  I  am  not  sure  but  he  will  be 
the  last  also  to  carry  it  on,  if,  indeed,  we  admit, 
as  many  are  inclined  to  believe,  that  he  will  yet 
appear  immediately  before  the  coming  of  Anti- 
christ. Our  subject  would  induce  me  to  set 
forth  his  vices  at  some  length,  if  it  were  not  in- 
consistent with  the  purpose  of  this  work  to  enter 
upon  so  vast  a  topic.  I  content  myself  with  the 
remark,  that  he  showed  himself  in  every  way 
most  abominable  and  cruel,  and  at  length  even 
went  so  far  as  to  be  the  murderer  of  his  own 
mother.  After  this,  he  also  married  a  certain 
Pythagoras  in  the  style  of  solemn  alliances,  the 
bridal  veil  being  put  upon  the  emperor,  while 
the  usual  dowry,  and  the  marriage  couch,  and 
wedding  torches,  and,  in  short,  all  the  other 
observances  were  forthcoming  —  things  which 
even  in  the  case  of  women  are  not  looked  upon 
without  some  feeling  of  modesty.  But  as  to  his 
other  actions,  I  doubt  whether  the  description 
of  them  would  excite  greater  shame  or  sorrow. 
He  first  attempted  to  abolish  the  name  of  Chris- 
tian, in  accordance  with  the  fact  that  vices  are 
always  inimical  to  virtues,  and  that  all  good  men 
are  ever  regarded  by  the  wicked  as  casting  re- 
proach upon  them.  For,  at  that  time,  our  divine 
religion  had  obtained  a  wide  prevalence  in  the 
city.  Peter  was  there  executing  the  office  of 
bishop,  and  Paul,  too,  after  he  had  been  brought 
to  Rome,  on  appealing  to  Caesar  from  the  un- 
just judgment  of  the  governor.  Multitudes  then 
came  together  to  hear  Paul,  and  these,  influenced 
by  the  truth  which  they  were  given  to  know,  and 
by  the  miracles  1  of  the  apostles,  which  they  then 
so  frequently  performed,  turned  to  the  worship 
of  God.  For  then  took  place  the  well-known 
and  celebrated  encounter  of  Peter  and  Paul  with 
Simon.2  He,  after  he  had  flown  up  into  the  air 
by  his  magical  arts,  and  supported  by  two  de- 
mons (with  the  view  of  proving  that  he  was  a 
god),  the  demons  being  put  to  flight  by  the 
prayers  of  the  apostles,  fell  to  the  earth  in  the 
sight  of  all  the  people,  and  was  dashed  to  pieces. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

In  the  meantime,  the  number  of  the  Christians 
being  now  very  large,  it  happened  that  Rome 
was  destroyed  by  fire,  while  Nero  was  stationed 
at  Antium.  But  the  opinion  of  all  cast  the 
odium  of  causing  the  fire  upon  the  emperor, 
and  he  was  believed  in  this  way  to  have  sought 
for  the  glory  of  building  a  new  city.  And  in 
fact,   Nero   could  not   by  any  means   he    tried 


1  "  virtutibus." 

2  Generally  spoken  of  as  Simon  Magus 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


in 


escape  from  the  charge  that  the  fire  had  been 
caused  by  his  orders.  He  therefore  turned  the 
accusation  against  the  Christians,  and  the  most 
cruel  tortures  were  accordingly  inflicted  upon 
the  innocent.  Nay,  even  new  kinds  of  death 
were  invented,  so  that,  being  covered  in  the 
skins  of  wild  beasts,  they  perished  by  being  de- 
voured by  dogs,  while  many  were  crucified  or 
slain  by  fire,  and  not  a  few  were  set  apart  for 
this  purpose,  that,  when  the  day  came  to  a  close, 
they  should  be  consumed  to  serve  for  light  dur- 
ing the  night.  In  this  way,  cruelty  first  began 
to  be  manifested  against  the  Christians.  After- 
wards, too,  their  religion  was  prohibited  by  laws 
which  were  enacted ;  and  by  edicts  openly  set 
forth  it  was  proclaimed  unlawful  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian. At  that  time  Paul  and  Peter  were  con- 
demned to  death,  the  former  being  beheaded 
with  a  sword,  while  Peter  suffered  crucifixion. 
And  while  these  things  went  on  at  Rome,  the 
Jews,  not  able  to  endure  the  injuries  they  suffered 
under  the  rule  of  Festus  Florus,  began  to  rebel. 
Vespasian,  being  sent  by  Nero  against  them,  with 
proconsular  power,  defeated  them  in  numerous 
important  battles,  and  compelled  them  to  flee 
within  the  walls  of  Jerusalem.  In  the  mean- 
while Nero,  now  hateful  even  to  himself  from  a 
consciousness  of  his  crimes,  disappears  from 
among1  men,  leaving  it  uncertain  whether  or  not 
he  had  laid  violent  hands  upon  himself:  cer- 
tainly his  body  was  never  found.  It  was  accord- 
ingly believed  that,  even  if  he  did  put  an  end  to 
himself  with  a  sword,  his  wound  was  cured,  and 
his  life  preserved,  according  to  that  which  was 
written  regarding  him,  —  "And  his  mortal2 
wound  was  healed,"  —  to  be  sent  forth  again 
near  the  end  of  the  world,  in  order  that  he  may 
practice  the  mystery  of  iniquity. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

So  then,  after  the  departure  of  Nero,  Galba 
seized  the  government ;  and  ere  long,  on  Galba 
being  slain,  Otho  secured  it.  Then  Vitellius  from 
Gaul,  trusting  to  the  armies  which  he  com- 
manded, entered  the  city,  and  having  killed 
Otho,  assumed  the  sovereignty.  This  afterwards 
passed  to  Vespasian,  and  although  that  was  ac- 
complished by  evil  means,  yet  it  had  the  good 
effect  of  rescuing  the  state  from  the  hands  of 
the  wicked.  While  Vespasian  was  besieging 
Jerusalem,  he  took  possession  of  the  imperial 
power ;  and  as  the  fashion  is,  he  was  saluted  as 
emperor  by  the  army,  with  a  diadem  placed 
upon  his  head.  He  made  his  son  Titus,  Csesar ; 
and  assigned  him  a  portion  of  the  forces,  along 
with  the  task  of  continuing  the  siege  of  Jerusa- 
lem.    Vespasian  set  out  for  Rome,  and  was  re- 


1  "  humanis  rebu=  eximitur. 


Rev.  xiii.  3. 


ceived  with  the  greatest  favor  by  the  senate  and 
people  ;  and  Vitellius  having  killed  himself,  his 
hold  of  the  sovereign  power  was  fully  confirmed. 
The  Jews,  meanwhile,  being  closely  besieged,  as 
no  chance  either  of  peace  or  surrender  was 
allowed  them,  were  at  length  perishing  from 
famine,  and  the  streets  began  everywhere  to  be 
filled  with  dead  bodies,  for  the  duty  of  burying 
them  could  no  longer  be  performed.  Moreover, 
they  ventured  on  eating  all  things  of  the  most 
abominable  nature,  and  did  not  even  abstain 
from  human  bodies,  except  those  which  putre- 
faction had  already  laid  hold  of  and  thus 
excluded  from  use  as  food.  The  Romans, 
accordingly,  rushed  in  upon  the  exhausted 
defenders  of  the  city.  And  it  so  happened 
that  the  whole  multitude  from  the  country, 
and  from  other  towns  of  Judaea,  had  then  as- 
sembled for  the  day  of  the  Passover :  doubt- 
less, because  it  pleased  God  that  the  impious 
race  should  be  given  over  to  destruction  at  the 
very  time  of  the  year  at  which  they  had  cruci- 
fied the  Lord.  The  Pharisees  for  a  time  main- 
tained their  ground  most  boldly  in  defense  of 
the  temple,  and  at  length,  with  minds  obsti- 
nately bent  on  death,  they,  of  their  own  accord, 
committed  themselves  to  the  flames.  The  num- 
ber of  those  who  suffered  death  is  related  to 
have  been  eleven  hundred  thousand,  and  one 
hundred  thousand  were  taken  captive  and  sold. 
Titus  is  said,  after  calling  a  council,  to  have 
first  deliberated  whether  he  should  destroy  the 
temple,  a  structure  of  such  extraordinary  work. 
For  it  seemed  good  to  some  that  a  sacred  edi- 
fice, distinguished  above  all  human  achieve- 
ments, ought  not  to  be  destroyed,  inasmuch 
as,  if  preserved,  it  would  furnish  an  evidence  of 
Roman  moderation,  but,  if  destroyed,  would 
serve  for  a  perpetual  proof  of  Roman  cruelty. 
But  on  the  opposite  side,  others  and  Titus  him- 
self thought  that  the  temple  ought  specially  to 
be  overthrown,  in  order  that  the  religion  of  the 
Jews  and  of  the  Christians  might  more  thor- 
oughly be  subverted ;  for  that  these  religions, 
although  contrary  to  each  other,  had  nevertheless 
proceeded  from  the  same  authors ;  that  the 
Christian's  had  sprung  up  from  among  the  Jews  ; 
and  that,  if  the  root  were  extirpated,  the  off- 
shoot would  speedily  perish.  Thus,  according 
to  the  divine  will,  the  minds  of  all  being  in- 
flamed, the  temple  was  destroyed,  three  hun- 
dred and  thirty-one  years  ago.  And  this  last 
overthrow  of  the  temple,  and  final  captivity  of 
the  Jews,  by  which,  being  exiles  from  their  na- 
tive land,  they  are  beheld  scattered  through  the 
whole  world,  furnish  a  daily  demonstration  to 
the  world,  that  they  have  been  punished  on  no 
other  account  than  for  the  impious  hands  which 
they  laid  upon  Christ.  For  though  on  other 
occasions  they  were  often  given  over  to  captivity 


112 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


on  account  of  their  sins,  yet  they  never  paid  the 
penalty  of  slavery  beyond  a  period  of  seventy 
j'ears. 

CHAPTER   XXXI. 

Then,  after  an  interval,  Domitian,  the  son  of 
Vespasian,  persecuted  the  Christians.  At  this 
date,  he  banished  John  the  Apostle  and  Evan- 
gelist to  the  island  of  Patmos.  There  he,  secret 
mysteries  having  been  revealed  to  him,  wrote 
and  published  his  book  of  the  holy  Revelation, 
which  indeed  is  either  foolishly  or  impiously 
not  accepted  by  many.  And  with  no  great 
interval  there  then  occurred  the  third  persecu- 
tion under  Trajan.  But  he,  when  after  torture 
and  racking  he  found  nothing  in  the  Christians 
worthy  of  death  or  punishment,  forbade  any 
further  cruelty  to  be "  put  forth  against  them. 
Then  under  Adrian  the  Jews  attempted  to  rebel, 
and  endeavored  to  plunder  both  Syria  and 
Palestine ;  but  on  an  army  being  sent  against 
them,  they  were  subdued.  At  this  time  Adrian, 
thinking  that  he  would  destroy  the  Christian 
faith  by  inflicting  an  injury  upon  the  place,  set 
up  the  images  of  demons  both  in  the  temple 
and  in  the  place  where  the  Lord  suffered.  And 
because  the  Christians  were  thought  principally 
to  consist  of  Jews  (for  the  church  at  Jerusalem 
did  not  then  have  a  priest  except  of  the  circum- 
cision), he  ordered  a  cohort  of  soldiers  to  keep 
constant  guard  in  order  to  prevent  all  Jews  from 
approaching  to  Jerusalem.  This,  however, 
rather  benefited l  the  Christian  faith,  because 
almost  all  then  believed  in  Christ  as  God  while 
continuing2  in  the  observance  of  the  law.  Un- 
doubtedly that  was  arranged  by  the  over-ruling 
care  of  the  Lord,  in  order  that  the  slavery  of 
the  law  might  be  taken  away  from  the  liberty  of 
the  faith  and  of  the  church.  In  this  way,  Mark 
from  among  the  Gentiles  was  then,  first  of  all, 
bishop  at  Jerusalem.  A  fourth  persecution  is 
reckoned  as  having  taken  place  under  Adrian, 
which,  however,  he  afterwards  forbade  to  be 
carried  on,  declaring  it  to  be  unjust  that  any 
one  should  be  put  on  his  trial  without  a  charge 
being  specified  against  him. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

After  Adrian,  the  churches  had  peace  under 
the  rule  of  Antoninus  Pius.  Then  the  fifth 
persecution  began  under  Aurelius,  the  son  of 
Antoninus.     And  then,  for  the  first  time,  mar- 

1  How  so?  Because,  according  to  Drusius,  the  Christian  Jews 
were  thus  first  taught  to  cast  off  the  yoke  of  the  law,  which  they 
had  observed  up  to  this  time. 

-  These  were  half-Jews  and  half-Christians,  and  were  known  at 
a  later  date  under  the  name  of  Nazarites.  They  made  use  of  what 
was  called  the  Gospel  according  to  the  Hebrews. 


tyrdoms  were  seen  taking  place  in  Gaul,  for  the 
religion  of  God  had  been  accepted  somewhat 
late  beyond  the  Alps.  Then  the  sixth  persecu- 
tion of  the  Christians  took  place  under  the 
emperor  Severus.  At  this  time  Leonida,  the 
father  of  Origen,  poured  forth  his  sacred  blood 
in  martyrdom.  Then,  during  an  interval  of 
thirty-eight  years,  the  Christians  enjoyed  peace, 
except  that  at  the  middle  of  that  time  Maxi- 
minus  persecuted  the  clerics  of  some  churches. 
Ere  long,  under  Decius  as  emperor,  the  seventh 
bloody  persecution  broke  out  against  the  Chris- 
tians. Next,  Valerian  proved  himself  the  eighth 
enemy  of  the  saints.  After  him,  with  an  interval 
of  about  fifty  years,  there  arose,  under  the  em- 
perors Diocletian  and  Maximian,  a  most  bitter 
persecution  which,  for  ten  continuous  years, 
wasted  the  people  of  God.  At  this  period, 
almost  the  whole  world  was  stained  with  the 
sacred  blood  of  the  martyrs.  In  fact,  they  vied 
with  each  other  in  rushing  upon  these  glorious 
struggles,  and  martyrdom  by  glorious  deaths 
was  then  much  more  keenly  sought  after  than 
bishoprics  are  now  attempted  to  be  got  by 
wicked  ambition.  Never  more  than  at  that 
time  was  the  world  exhausted  by  wars,  nor  did 
we  ever  achieve  victory  with  a  greater  triumpn 
than  when  we  showed  that  we  could  not  be 
conquered  by  the  slaughters  of  ten  long  years. 
There  survive  also  accounts  of  the  sufferings  of 
the  martyrs  at  that  time  which  were  committed 
to  writing ;  but  I  do  not  think  it  suitable  to 
subjoin  these  lest  I  should  exceed  the  limits 
prescribed  to  this  work. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

Well,  the  end  of  the  persecutions  was  reached 
eighty- eight  years  ago,  at  which  date  the  em- 
perors began  to  be  Christians.  For  Constantine 
then  obtained  the  sovereignty,  and  he  was  the 
first  Christian  of  all  the  Roman  rulers.  At  that 
time,  it  is  true,  Licinius,  who  was  a  rival  of 
Constantine  for  the  empire,  had  commanded 
his  soldiers  to  sacrifice,  and  was  expelling  from 
the  service  those  who  refused  to  do  so.  But 
that  is  not  reckoned  among  the  persecutions  ;  it 
was  an  affair  of  too  little  moment  to  be  able  to 
inflict  any  wound  upon  the  churches.  From 
that  time,  we  have  continued  to  enjoy  tranquil- 
lity ;  nor  do  I  believe  that  there  will  be  any 
further  persecutions,  except  that  which  Anti- 
christ will  carry  on  just  before  the  end  of  the 
world.  For  it  has  been  proclaimed  in  divine 
words,  that  the  world  was  to  be  visited  by  ten 
afflictions  ; '  and  since  nine  of  these  have  already 
been  endured,  the  one  which  remains  must  be 


1  "  decern  plagis.  " 


THE   SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


1 1 


the  last.  During  this  period  of  time,  it  is  mar- 
velous how  the  Christian  religion  has  prevailed. 
For  Jerusalem  which  had  presented  a  horrible 
mass  of  ruins  was  then  adorned  with  most  numer- 
ous and  magnificent  churches.  And  Helena,  the 
mother  of  the  emperor  Constantine  (who  reigned 
along  with  her  son  as  Augusta),  having  a  strong 
desire  to  behold  Jerusalem,  cast  down  the  idols 
and  the  temples  which  were  found  there ;  and 
in  course  of  time,  through  the  exercise  of  her 
royal  powers,  she  erected  churches  2  on  the  site 
of  the  Lord's  passion,  resurrection,  and  ascen- 
sion. It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  spot  on 
which  the  divine  footprints  had  last  been  left, 
when  the  Lord  was  carried  up  in  a  cloud  to 
heaven,  could  not  be  joined  by  a  pavement  with 
the  remaining  part  of  the  street.  For  the  earth, 
unaccustomed  to  mere  human  contact,  rejected 
all  the  appliances  laid  upon  it,  and  often  threw 
back  the  blocks  of  marble  in  the  faces  of  those 
who  were  seeking  to  place  them.  Moreover,  it 
is  an  enduring '  proof  of  the  soil  of  that  place 
having  been  trodden  by  God,  that  the  footprints 
are  still  to  be  seen ;  and  although  the  faith  of 
those  who  daily  flock  to  that  place,  leads  them 
to  vie  with  each  other  in  seeking  to  carry  away 
what  had  been  trodden  by  the  feet  of  the  Lord, 
yet  the  sand  of  the  place  suffers  no  injury ;  and 
the  earth  still  preserves  the  same  appearance 
which  it  presented  of  old,  as  if  it  had  been 
sealed  by  the  footprints  impressed  upon  it. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

Through  the  kind  efforts  of  the  same  queen, 
the  cross  of  the  Lord  was  then  found.  It  could 
not,  of  course,  be  consecrated  at  the  beginning, 
owing  to  the  opposition  of  the  Jews,  and  after- 
wards it  had  been  covered  over  by  the  rubbish 
of  the  ruined  city.  And  now,  it  would  never  have 
been  revealed  except  to  one  seeking  for  it  in 
such  a  believing  spirit.  Accordingly,  Helena 
having  first  got  information  about  the  place  of 
our  Lord's  passion,  caused  a  band  of  soldiers  to 
be  brought l  up  to  it,  while  the  whole  multitude 
of  the  inhabitants  of  the  locality  vied  with  each 
other  in  seeking  to  gratify  the  desires  of  the 
queen,  and  ordered  the  earth  to  be  dug  up,  and 
all  the  adjacent  most  extensive-  ruins  to  be 
cleared  out.  Ere  long,  as  the  reward  of  her 
faith  and  labor,  three  crosses  (as  of  old  they 
had  been  fixed  for  the  Lord  and  the  two  rob- 
bers) were  discovered.  But  upon  this,  the 
greater  difficulty  of  distinguishing  the  gibbet  on 
which  the  Lord  had  hung,  disturbed  the  minds 
and   thoughts    of  all,  lest  by  a  mistake,   likely 

2  "basilicas":  edifices,  which,  in  size  and  grandeur,  had  some 
resemblance  to  a  royal  palace. 

1  "  admota  militari  manu  atque  omnium  provincialium  multitu- 
dine  in  studia  reginae  certantium." 


enough  to  be  committed  by  mere  mortals,  they 
might  perhaps  consecrate  as  the  cross  of  the 
Lord,  that  which  belonged  to  one  of  the  robbers. 
They  form  then  the  plan  of  placing  one  who 
had  recently  died  in  contact  with  the  crosses. 
Nor  is  there  any  delay  in  carrying  out  this  pur- 
pose ;  for  just  as  if  by  the  appointment  of  God, 
the  funeral  of  a  dead  man  was  then  being  con- 
ducted with  the  usual  ceremonies,  and  all  rush- 
ing up  took  the  body  from  the  bier.  It  was 
applied  in  vain  to  the  first  two  crosses,  but  when 
it  touched  that  of  Christ,  wonderful  to  tell, 
while  all  stood  trembling,  the  dead  body  was2 
shaken  off,  and  stood  up  in  the  midst  of  those 
looking  at  it.  The  cross  was  thus  discovered, 
and  was  consecrated  with  all  due  ceremony.3 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

Such  were  the  things  accomplished  by  Helena, 
while,  under  a  Christian  prince,  the  world  had 
both  attained  to  liberty,  and  possessed  in  him 
an  exemplar  of  faith.  But  a  far  more  dreadful 
danger  than  all  that  had  preceded  fell  upon  all 
the  churches  from  that  state  of  tranquillity.  For 
then  the  Arian  heresy  burst  forth,  and  disturbed 
the  whole  world  by  the  error  which  it  instilled. 
For  by  means  of  the  two J  Ariuses,  who  were 
the  most  active  originators  of  this  unfaithfulness, 
the  emperor  himself  was  led  astray,  and  while 
he  seemed  to  himself  to  fulfill  a  religious  duty, 
he  proceeded  to  a  violent  exercise  of  persecu- 
tion. The  bishops  were  driven  into  exile : 
cruelty  was  exerted  against  the  clerics ;  and 
even  the  laity  were  punished,  who  had  separated 
from  the  communion  of  the  Arians.  Now,  the 
doctrines  which  the  Arians  proclaimed  were  of 
the  following  nature,  —  that  God  the  Father 
had  begotten  his  Son  for  the  purpose  of  creating 
the  world ;  and  that,  by  his  power,  he  had 
made 2  out  of  nothing  into  a  new  and  second 
substance,  a  new  and  second  God ;  and  that 
there  was  a  time  when  the  Son  had  no  existence. 
To  meet  this  evil,  a  synod  was  convened  from 
the  whole  world  to  meet  at  Nicsea.  Three 
hundred  and  eighteen  bishops  were  there  as- 
sembled :  the  faith  was  fully  set  forth  in  writing  ; 
the  Arian  heresy  was  condemned ;  and  the  em- 
peror confirmed  the  whole  by  an  imperial  de- 
cree. The  Arians,  then,  not  daring  to  make  any 
further  attempt  against  the  orthodox  faith,  mixed 
themselves  among  the  churches,  as  if  they 
acquiesced  in  the  conclusions  which  had  been 
reached,  and  did  not  hold  any  different  opinions. 


2  "  funus  excussum  ":   a  singular  expression. 

"  "ambitu":     apparently   used    here   with    the    meaning   which 
sometimes  belongs  to  "  ambitione." 

1  The  one  of  these  was  Arius,  the  author  of  the  heresy,  and  the 
other  a  presbyter  of  Alexandria  bearing  the  same  name. 

2  Both  the  text  and  meaning  are  here  obscure.     We  have  read, 
with  Halm,  "  fecisse  "  for  the  usual  "  factum." 


ii4 


THE    WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


There  remained,  however,  in  their  hearts,  a 
deep-seated  hatred  against  the  Catholics,  and 
they  assailed,  with  suborned  accusers  and 
trumped-up  charges,  those  with  whom  they 
could  not  contend  in  argument  on  matters  of 
faith. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Accordingly,  they  first  attack  and  condemn 
in  his  absence  Athanasius,  bishop  of  Alexandria, 
a  holy  man,  who  had  been  present  as  deacon  at 
the  Synod  of  Nicaea.  For  they  added  to  the 
charges  which  false  witnesses  had  heaped  up 
against  him,  this  one,  that,  with  wicked  inten- 
tions, he  had  received ]  Marcellus  and  Photinus, 
heretical  priests  who  had  been  condemned  by  a 
sentence  of  the  Synod.  Now,  it  was  not  doubt- 
ful as  to  Photinus  that  he  had  been  justly  con- 
demned. But  in  the  case  of  Marcellus,  it 
seemed  that  nothing  had  then  been  found 
worthy  of  condemnation,  and 2  a  belief  in  his 
innocence  was  above  all  strengthened  by  the 
animus  of  that  party,  inasmuch  as  no  one 
doubted  that  those  same  judges  were  hereti- 
cal by  whom  he  had  been  condemned.  But 
the  Arians  did  not  so  much  desire  to  get  these 
persons  out  of  the  way  as  Athanasius  him- 
self. Accordingly,  "they  constrain  the  emperor 
to  go  so  far  as  this,  that  Athanasius  should  be 
sent  as  an  exile  into  Gaul.  But  ere  long,  eighty 
bishops,  assembling  together  in  Egypt,  declare 
that  Athanasius  had  been  unjustly  condemned. 
The  matter  is  referred  to  Constantine :  he 
orders 3  bishops  from  the  whole  world  to  assem- 
ble at  Sardes,  and  that  the  entire  process  by 
which  Athanasius  had  been  condemned,  should 
be  reconsidered  by  the  council.  In  the  mean- 
time, Constantine  dies,  but  the  Synod,  called 
together  while  he  was  yet  emperor,  acquits 
Athanasius.  Marcellus,  too,  is  restored  to  his 
bishopric,  but  the  sentence  on  Photinus,  bishop 
of  Sirmion,  was  not  rescinded  ;  for  even4  in  the 
judgment  of  our  friends,  he  is  regarded  as  a 
heretic.  However,  even  this  result  chagrined 
Marcellus,  because  Photinus  was  known  to  have 
been  his  disciple  in  his  youth.  But  this,  too, 
tended  to  secure  an  acquittal  for  Athanasius, 
that  Ursatius  and  Valens,  leading  men  among 
the  Arians,  when  they  were  openly  separated 
from  the  communion  of  the  Church  after  the 
Synod  at  Sardes,  entering  into  the  presence  of 


1  Different  periods  and  events  are  here  mixed  up  by  our  author. 

2  The  text  is  in  utter  confusion,  and  we  can  only  make  a  prob- 
able guess  at  the  meaning. 

3  It  has  been  remarked  that  Sulpitius  is  in  error  in  ascribing  the 
summoning  of  this  council  to  Constantine  the  Great,  instead  of  his 
son  Constantine  II.  The  curious  thing  is  that  he  should  have  made 
a  mistake  regarding  an  event  so  near  his  own  time. 

4  "  qui  etiam  nostrorum  judicio  hsreticus  probatur." 


Julius,  bishop  of  Rome,  asked  pardon  of  him 
for  having  condemned  the  innocent,  and  publicly 
declared  that  he  had  been  justly  acquitted  by 
the  decree  of  the  Council  of  Sardes. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

When,  after  an  interval  of  some  time  had 
elapsed,  Athanasius,  finding  that  Marcellus  was 
by  no  means  sound  in  the  faith,  suspended  him 
from  communion.  And  he  had  this  degree  of 
modesty,  that,  being  censured  by  the  judgment 
of  so  great  a  man,  he  voluntarily  gave  way.  But 
though  at  a  former  period  innocent,  yet  con- 
fessedly afterwards  becoming  heretical,  it  may 
be  allowed  to  conclude  that  he  was  really  then 
guilty  when  judgment  was  pronounced  regard- 
ing him.  The  Arians,  then,  finding  an  oppor- 
tunity of  that  kind,  conspire  to  subvert  alto- 
gether the  decrees  of  the  Synod  of  Sardes.  For 
a  certain  coloring  of  right  seemed  to  be  fur- 
nished them  in  this  fact,  that  a  favorable  judg- 
ment had  as  unjustly  been  formed  on  the  side 
of  Athanasius,  as  Marcellus  had  been  improp- 
erly acquitted,  since  now,  even  in  the  opinion 
of  Athanasius  himself,  he  was  deemed  a  heretic. 
For  Marcellus  had  stood  forward  as  an  upholder 
of  the  Sabellian  heresy.1  But  Photinus  had 
already  brought  forward  a  new  heresy,  differing 
indeed  from  Sabellius  with  respect  to  the  union 
of  the  divine  persons,  but  proclaiming  that 
Christ  had  his  beginning  in  Mary.  The  Arians, 
therefore,  with  cunning  design,  mix  up  what 
was  harmless  with  what  was  blameworthy,  and 
embrace,  under  the  same  judgment,  the  con- 
demnation of  Photinus,  and  Marcellus,  and 
Athanasius.  They  undoubtedly  did  this  with 
the  view  of  leading  the  minds  of  the  ignorant  to 
conclude,  that  those  had  not  judged  incorrectly 
regarding  Athanasius,  who,  it  was  admitted,  had 
expressed  a  well-based  opinion  respecting  Mar- 
cellus and  Photinus.  At  that  time,  however, 
the  Arians  concealed  their  treachery ;  and 
not  daring  openly  to  proclaim  their  erroneous 
doctrines,  they  professed  themselves  Catholics. 
They  thought  that  their  first  great  object  should 
be  to  get  Athanasius  turned  out  of  the  church, 
who  had  always  presented  a  wall  of  opposition 
to  their  endeavors,  and  they  hoped  that,  if  he 
were  removed,  the  rest  would  pass  over  to  their 
evil2  opinion.  Now,  that  part  of  the  bishops 
which  followed  the  Arians  accepted  the  con- 
demnation of  Athanasius  with  delight.  Another 
part,  constrained  by  fear  and  faction,  yielded  to 
the  wish  of  the  Arian  party ;  and  only  a  few,  to 


1  As  Epiphanius  remarks,  Sabellius  taught  that  the  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  were  all  the  same  person,  only  under  different 
appellations. 

2  "  libidinem." 


-THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


"5 


whom  the  true  faith  was  dearer  than  any  other 
consideration,  refused  to  accept  their  unjust 
judgment.  Among  these  was  Paulinus,  the 
bishop  of  Treves.  It  is  related  that  he,  when 
a  letter  on  the  subject  was  placed  before  him, 
thus  wrote,  that  he  gave  his  consent  to  the  con- 
demnation of  Photinus  and  Marcellus,  but  did 
not  approve  that  of  Athanasius. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

But  then  the  Arians,  seeing  that  stratagem 
did  not  succeed,  determined  to  proceed  by 
force.  For  it  was  easy  for  those  to  attempt 
and  carry  out  anything  who  were  supported  by 
the  favor  of  the  monarch,  whom  they  had 
thoroughly  won  over  to  themselves  by  wicked 
flatteries.  Moreover,  they  were  by  the  consent 
of  all  unconquerable  ;  for  almost  all  the  bishops 
of  the  two  Pannonias,  and  many  of  the  Eastern 
bishops,  and  those  throughout  all  Asia,  had 
joined  in  their  unfaithfulness.  But  the  chief 
men  in  that  evil  company  were  Ursatius  of 
Singidunum,  Valens  of  Mursa,  Theodorus  of 
Heraclia,  Stephanus  of  Antioch,  Acatius 
of  Caesarea,  Menofantus  of  Ephesus,  Georgius 
of  Laodicia,  and  Narcissus  of  Neronopolis. 
These  had  got  possession  of  the  palace  to  such 
an  extent  that  the  emperor  did  nothing  without 
their  concurrence.  He  was  indeed  at  the  beck 
of  all  of  them,  but  was  especially  under  the  in- 
fluence of  Valens.  For  at  that  time,  when  a 
battle  was  fought  at  Mursa  against  Magnentius, 
Constantius  had  not  the  courage  to  go  down  to 
witness  for  himself  the  conflict,  but  took  up  his 
abode  in  a  church  of  the  martyrs  which  stood 
outside  the  town,  Valens  who  was  then  the 
bishop  of  the  place  being  with  him  to  keep  up 
his  courage.  But  Valens  had  cunningly  ar- 
ranged, through  means  of  his  agents,  that  he 
should  be  the  first  to  be  made  acquainted  with 
the  result  of  the  battle.  He  did  this  either  to 
gain  the  favor  of  the  king,  if  he  should  be  the 
first  to  convey  to  him  good  news,  or  with  a  view 
to  saving  his  own  life,  since  he  would  obtain 
time  for  flight,  should  the  issue  prove  unfortu- 
nate. Accordingly,  the  few  persons  who  were 
with  the  king  being  in  a  state  of  alarm,  and  the 
emperor  himself  being  a  prey  to  anxiety,  Valens 
was  the  first  to  announce  to  them  the  flight  of 
the  enemy.  When  Constantius  requested  that 
the  person  who  had  brought  the  news  should  be 
introduced  to  his  presence,  Valens,  to  increase 
the  reverence  felt  for  himself,  said  that  an  angel 
was  the  messenger  who  had  come  to  him.  The 
emperor,  who  was  easy  of  belief,  was  accustomed 
afterwards  openly  to  declare  that  he  had  won 
the  victory  through  the  merits  of  Valens,  and 
not  by  the  valor  of  his  army. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

From  this  first  proof  that  the  prince  had 
been  won  over  to  their  side,  the  Arians  plucked 
up  their  courage,  knowing  that  they  could  make 
use  of  the  power  of  the  king,  when  they  could 
make  little  impression  by  their  own  authority. 
Accordingly,  when  our  friends  did  not  accept  of 
the  judgment  which  they  had  pronounced  in 
regard  to  Athanasius,  an  edict  was  issued  by  the 
emperor  to  the  effect  that  those  who  did  not  sub- 
scribe to  the  condemnation  of  Athanasius  should 
be  sent  into  banishment.  But,  at  that  time, 
councils  of  bishops  were  held  by  our  friends  at 
Aries  and  Bitterae,  towns  situated  in  Gaul.  They 
requested  that  before  any  were  compelled  to  sub- 
scribe against  Athanasius,  they  should  rather  enter 
on  a  discussion  as  to  the  true  faith  ;  and  main- 
tained that  only  then  was  a  decision  to  be  come 
to  respecting  the  point  in  question,  when  they 
had  agreed  as  to  the  person  of  the  judges.1  But 
Valens  and  his  confederates  not  venturing  on 
a  discussion  respecting  the  faith,  first  desired 
to  secure  by  force  the  condemnation  of  Athan- 
asius. Owing  to  this  conflict  of  parties,  Pauli- 
nus was  driven  into  banishment.  In  the  mean- 
time, an  assembly  was  held  at  Milan,  where  the 
emperor  then  was  ;  but  the  same  controversy  was 
there  continued  without  any  relaxation  of  its  bit- 
terness. Then  Eusebius,  bishop  of  the  Vercel- 
lenses,  and  Lucifer,  bishop  of  Caralis 2  in  Sardinia, 
were  exiled.  Dionysius,  however,  priest  of  Milan, 
subscribed  to  the  condemnation  of  Athanasius,  on 
the  condition  that  there  should  be  an  investiga- 
tion among  the  bishops  as  to  the  true  faith.  But 
Valens  and  Ursatius,  with  the  rest  of  that  party, 
through  fear  of  the  people,  who  maintained  the 
Catholic  faith  with  extraordinary  enthusiasm, 
did  not  venture  to  set  forth  in  public  their 
monstrous3  doctrines,  but  assembled  within  the 
palace.  From  that  place,  and  under  the  name  of 
the  emperor,  they  issued  a  letter  full 4  of  all  sorts 
of  wickedness,  with  this  purpose,  no  doubt,  that, 
if  the  people  gave  it  a  favorable  hearing,  they 
should  then  bring  forward,  under  public  au- 
thority, the  things  which  they  desired  ;  but  if  it 
should  be  received  otherwise,  that  all  the  ill  feel- 
ing might  be  directed  against  the  king,  while  his 
mistake  might  be  regarded  as  excusable,  because 
being  then  only  a  catechumen,  he  might  readily 
be  supposed  to  have  erred  concerning  the  mys- 
teries of  the  faith.  Well,  when  the  letter  was 
read  in  the  church,  the  people  expressed  their 
aversion  to  it.  And  Dionysius,  because  he  did 
not  concur  with  them,  was  banished  from  the 
city,  while  Auxentius  was  immediately  chosen  as 


1  The  text  is  here  in  utter  confusion  and  uncertainty.  Some  for 
"  ac  turn"  read  "nee  turn,"  and  some,  instead  of  "judicum  "  read 
"judicium."     The  meaning  therefore  can  only  be  guessed  at. 

2  The  modern  Cagliari.  3  "  Piacula  profiteri." 
4  Instead  of  "  refertam,"  some  read  "  infectam.  " 


n6 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


bishop  in  his  place.  Liberius,  too,  bishop  of 
the  city  of  Rome,  and  Hilarius,  bishop  of  Poic- 
tiers,  were  driven  into  exile.  Rhodanius,  also, 
bishop  of  Toulouse  (who,  being  by  nature  of  a 
softer  disposition,  had  resisted  the  Arians,  not 
so  much  from  his  own  powers  as  from  his  fellow- 
ship with  Hilarius)  was  involved  in  the  same 
punishment.  All  these  persons,  however,  were 
prepared  to  suspend  Athanasius  from  commun- 
ion, only  in  order  that  an  inquiry  mignt  be  in- 
stituted among  the  bishops  as  to  the  true  faith. 
But  it  seemed  best  to  the  Arians  to  withdraw  the 
most  celebrated  men  from  the  controversy.  Ac- 
cordingly, those  whom  we  have  mentioned  above 
were  driven  into  exile,  forty-five  years  ago,  when 
Arbitio  and  Lollianus  were  consuls.  Liberius, 
however,  was,  a  little  afterwards,  restored  to  the 
city,  in  consequence  of  the  disturbances  at 
Rome.  But  it  is  well  known  that  the  persons 
exiled  were  celebrated  by  the  admiration  of  the 
whole  world,  and  that  abundant  supplies  of 
money  were  collected  to  meet  their  wants,  while 
they  were  visited  by  deputies  of  the  Catholic 
people  from  almost  all  the  provinces. 


CHAPTER   XL. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Arians,  not  secretly,  as 
before,  but  openly  and  publicly  proclaimed  their 
monstrous  heretical  doctrines.  Moreover,  they 
interpreted  after  their  own  views  the  Synod  of 
Nicsea,  and  by  the  addition  of  one  letter  to  its 
finding,  threw  a  sort  of  obscurity  over  the  truth. 
For  where  the  expression  Homoousion  had  been 
written,  which  denotes  "  of  one  substance,"  they 
maintained  that  it  was  written  Homoiousion, 
which  simply  means  "  of  like  substance."  They 
thus  granted  a  likeness,  but  took  away  unity ; 
for  likeness  is  very  different  from  unity ;  just  as, 
for  illustration's  sake,  a  picture  of  a  human  body 
might  be  like  a  man,  and  yet  possess  nothing  of 
the  reality  of  a  man.  But  some  of  them  went 
even  farther,  and  maintained  Anomoiousia,  that 
is,  an  unlike  substance.  And  to  such  a  pitch 
did  these  controversies  extend,  that  the  wide 
world  was  involved  in  these  monstrous  errors. 
For  Valens  and  Ursatius,  with  their  supporters, 
whose  names  we  have  stated,  infected  Italy, 
Illyria,  and  the  East  with  these  opinions.  Satur- 
ninus,  bishop  of  Aries,  a  violent  and  factious 
man,  harassed  our  country  of  Gaul  in  like  man- 
ner. There  was  also  a  prevalent  belief  that 
Osius  from  Spain  had  gone  over  to  the  same 
unfaithful  party,  which  appears  all  the  more 
wonderful  and  incredible  on  this  account,  that 
he  had  been,  almost  during  his  whole  life,  the 
most  determined  upholder  of  our  views,  and  the 
Synod  of  Nice  was  regarded  as  having  been  held 
at  his  instigation.     If  he  did  go  over,  the  reason 


may  have  been  that  in  his  extreme  old  age  (for 
he  was  then  more  than  a  centenarian,  as  St. 
Hilarius  relates  in  his  epistles)  he  had  fallen 
into  dotage.  While  the  world  was  disturbed  by 
these  things,  and  the  churches  were  languishing 
as  if  from  a  sort  of  disease,  an  anxiety,  less 
exciting  indeed,  but  no  less  serious,  pressed 
upon  the  emperor,  that  although  the  Arians, 
whom  he  favored,  appeared  the  stronger,  yet 
there  was  still  no  agreement  among  the  bishops 
concerning;  the  faith. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

Accordingly,  the  emperor  orders  a  Synod  to 
assemble  at  Ariminum,  a  city  of  Italy,  and  in- 
structs Taurus  the  prefect,  not  to  let  them  sepa- 
rate, after  they  were  once  assembled,  until  they 
should  agree  as  to  one  faith,  at  the  same  time 
promising  him  the  consulship,  if  he  carried  the 
affair  to  a  successful  termination.  Imperial ' 
officers,  therefore,  being  sent  through  Illyria, 
Italy,  Africa,  and  the  two  Gauls,  four  hundred 
and  rather  more  Western  bishops  were  sum- 
moned or  compelled  to  assemble  at  Ariminum  ; 
and  for  all  of  these  the  emperor  had  ordered 
provisions2  and  lodgings  to  be  provided.  But 
that  appeared  unseemly  to  the  men  of  our  part 
of  the  world,  that  is,  to  the  Aquitanians,  the 
Gauls,  and  Britons,  so  that  refusing  the  public 
supplies,  they  preferred  to  live  at  their  own 
expense.  Three  only  of  those  from  Britain, 
through  want  of  means  of  their  own,  made  use 
of  the  public  bounty,  after  having  refused  con- 
tributions offered  by  the  rest ;  for  they  thought 
it  more  dutiful  to  burden  the  public  treasury 
than  individuals.  I  have  heard  that  Gavidius, 
our  bishop,  was  accustomed  to  refer  to  this  con- 
duct in  a  censuring  sort  of  way,  but  I  would  be 
inclined  to  judge  far  otherwise  ;  and  I  hold  it 
matter  of  admiration  that  the  bishops  had  noth- 
ing of  their  own,  while  they  did  not  accept 
assistance  from  others  rather  than  from  the 
public  treasury,  so  that  they  burdened  nobody. 
In  both  points,  they  thus  furnished  us  with  a 
noble  example.  Nothing  worthy  of  mention  is 
recorded  of  the  others  ;  but  I  return  to  the  sub- 
ject in  hand.  After  all  the  bishops  had  been 
collected  together,  as  we  have  said,  a  separation 
of  parties  took  place.  Our  friends3  take  pos- 
session of  the  church,  while  the  Arians  select,  as 
a  place  for  prayer,  a  temple  which  was  then  in- 
tentionally standing  empty.  But  these  did  not 
amount  to  more  than  eighty  persons  :  the  rest 
belonged  to  our  party.  Well,  after  frequent 
meetings    had    been   held,    nothing   was   really 

1  "  magistris  officialibus  ":  Halm  reads  "  magistri." 

2  "  annonas  et  cellaria." 

3  Of  course,  the  Catholics,  or  orthodox. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


117 


accomplished,  our  friends  continuing  in  the 
faith,  and  the  others  not  abandoning  their  un- 
faithfulness. At  length  it  was  resolved  to  send 
ten  deputies  to  the  emperor,  that  he  might  learn 
what  was  the  faith  or  opinion  of  the  parties,  and 
might  know  that  there  could  be  no  peace  with 
heretics.  The  Arians  do  the  same  thing,  and 
send  a  like  number  of  deputies,  who  should  con- 
tend with  our  friends  in  the  presence  of  the 
emperor.  But  on  the  part  of  our  people,  young 
men  of  but  little  learning  and  little  prudence 
had  been  selected ;  while,  on  the  side  of  the 
Arians,  old  men  were  sent,  skillful  and  abounding 
in  talent,  thoroughly  imbued,  too,  with  their  old 
unfaithful  doctrines  ;  and  these  easily  got  the 
upper  hand  with  the  prince.  But  our  friends 
had  been  specially  charged  not  to  enter  into  any 
kind  of  communion  with  the  Arians,  and  to 
reserve  every  point,  in  its  entirety,  for  discussion 
in  a  Synod. 


CHAPTER   XLII. 

IjST  the  meantime  in  the  East,  after  the  example 
of  the  West,  the  emperor  ordered  almost  all  the 
bishops  to  assemble  at  Seleucia,  a  town  of 
Isauria.  x\t  that  time,  Hilarius,  who  was  now 
spending  the  fourth  year  of  his  exile  in  Phrygia, 
is  compelled  to  be  present  among  the  other 
bishops,  the  means  of  a  public  conveyance 
being  furnished  to  him  by  the  lieutenant l  and 
governor.  As,  however,  the  emperor  had  given 
no  special  orders  regarding  him,  the  judges, 
simply  following  the  general  order  by  which 
they  were  commanded  to  gather  all  bishops  to 
the  council,  sent  him  also  among  the  rest  who 
were  willing  to  go.  This  was  done,  as  I  imagine, 
by  the  special  ordination  of  God,  in  order  that 
a  man  who  was  most  deeply  instructed  in  divine 
things,  might  be  present  when  a  discussion  was 
to  be  carried  on  respecting  the  faith.  He,  on 
arriving  at  Seleucia,  was  received  with  great 
favor,  and  drew  the  minds  and  affections  of  all 
towards  himself.  His  first  inquiry  was  as  to  the 
real  faith  of  the  Gauls,  because  at  that  time  the 
Arians  had  spread  evil  reports  regarding  us,  and 
we  were  held  suspected  by  the  Easterns  as  hav- 
ing embraced  the  belief  of  Sabellius,  to  the 
effect  that  the  unity  of  the  one  God  was  simply 
distinguished 2  by  a  threefold  name.  But  after 
he  had  set  forth  his  faith  in  harmony  with  those 
conclusions  which  had  been  reached  by  the 
fathers  at  Nicaea,  he  bore  his  testimony  in 
favor  of  the  Westerns.  Thus  the  minds  of  all 
having  been  satisfied,  he  was  admitted  to  com- 


1  "  per  vicarium  ac  prsesidem":  as  Vorstius  remarks,  these  were 
the  two  magistrates  of  Phrygia. 

2  "  trionymam  solitarii  Dei  unionem":  Hornius  here  remarks 
that"  Sabellius  believed  that  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  were  the  same,  and  differed  among  themselves  only  in  name." 


munion,  and  being  also  received  into  alliance, 
was  added  to  the  council.  They  then  pro- 
ceeded to  actual  work,  and  the  originators  of 
the  wicked  heresy  being  discovered,  were  sepa- 
rated from  the  body  of  the  Church.  In  that 
number  were  Georgius  of  Alexandria,  Acacius, 
Eudoxius,  Vranius,  Leontius,  Theodosius,  Eva- 
grius,  Theodulus.  But  when  the  Synod  was 
over,  an  embassy  was  appointed  to  go  to  the 
emperor  and  make  him  acquainted  with  what 
had  been  done.  Those  who  had  been  con- 
demned also  went  to  the  prince,  relying  upon 
the  power  of  their  confederates,  and  a  common 
cause  with  the  monarch. 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 

In  the  meantime,  the  emperor  compels  those 
deputies  of  our  party  who  had  been  sent  from 
the  council  at  Ariminum  to  join  in  communion 
with  the  heretics.  At  the  same  time,  he  hands 
them  a  confession  of  faith  which  had  been 
drawn  up  by  these  wicked  men,  and  which, 
being  expressed  in  deceptive  terms,  seemed  to 
exhibit  the  Catholic  faith,  while  unfaithfulness 
secretly  lay  hid  in  it.  For  under  an  appearance 
of  false  reasoning,  it  abolished  the  use  of  the 
word  Ousia  as  being  ambiguous,  and  as  having 
been  too  hastily  adopted  by  the  fathers,  while 
it  rested  upon  no  Scriptural  authority.  The 
object  of  this  was  that  the  Son  might  not  be 
believed  to  be  of  one  substance  with  the  Father. 
The  same  confession  of  faith  acknowledged  that 
the  Son  was  like  the  Father.  But  deception  was 
carefully  prepared  within  the  words,  in  order 
that  he  might  be  like,  but  not  equal.  Thus, 
the  deputies  being  sent  away,  orders  were  given 
to  the  prefect  that  he  should  not  dissolve  the 
Synod,  until  all  professed  by  their  subscriptions 
their  agreement  to  the  declaration  of  faith  which 
had  been  drawn  up  ;  and  if  any  should  hold 
back  with  excessive  obstinacy,  they  should  be 
driven  into  banishment,  provided  their  number 
did  not  amount  to  fifteen.  But  when  the  depu- 
ties returned,  they  were  refused  communion, 
although  they  pleaded  the  force  which  had  been 
brought  to  bear  upon  them  by  the  king.  For 
when  it  was  discovered  what  had  been  decreed, 
greater  disturbance  arose  in  their  affairs  and 
purposes.  Then  by  degrees  numbers  of  our 
people,  partly  overcome  through  the  weakness 
of  their  character,  and  partly  influenced  by  the 
thought  of  a  weary  journeying  into  foreign  lands, 
surrendered  to  the  opposite  party.  These  were 
now,  on  the  return  of  the  deputies,  the  stronger 
of  the  two  bodies,  and  had  taken  possession 
of  the  church,  our  friends  being  driven  out  of 
it.  And  when  the  minds  of  our  people  once 
began  to  incline  in  that  direction,  they  rushed 


II! 


THE    WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


in  flocks  over  to  the  other  side,  until  the  num- 
ber of  our  friends  was  diminished  down  to 
twenty. 


CHAPTER   XLIV. 

But  these,  the  fewer  they  became,  showed 
themselves  all  the  more  powerful ;  as  the  most 
steadfast  among  them  was  to  be  reckoned  our 
friend  Foegadius,  and  Servatio,  bishop  of  the 
Tungri.  As  these  had  not  yielded  to  threats 
and  terrors,  Taurus  assails  them  with  entreaties, 
and  beseeches  them  with  tears  to  adopt  milder 
counsels.  He  argued  that  the  bishops  were 
now  in  the  seventh  month  since  they  had  been 
shut  up  within  one  city  —  that  no  hope  of 
returning  home  presented  itself  to  them,  worn 
out  by  the  inclemency  of  winter  and  positive 
want ;  and  what  then  would  be  the  end  ?  He 
urged  them  to  follow  the  example  of  the  ma- 
jority, and  to  derive  authority  for  so  doing  at 
least  from  the  numbers  who  had  preceded  them. 
For  Foegadius  openly  declared  that  he  was  pre- 
pared for  banishment,  and  for  every  kind  of 
punishment  that  might  be  assigned  him,  but 
would  not  accept  that  confession  of  faith  which 
had  been  drawn  up  by  the  Arians.  Thus  several 
days  passed  in  this  sort  of  discussion.  And  when 
they  made  little  progress  towards  a  pacification, 
by  degrees  Foegadius  began  to  yield,  and  at  the 
last  was  overcome  by  a  proposal  which  was  made 
to  him.  For  Valens  and  Ursatius  affirmed  that 
the  present  confession  of  faith  was  drawn  up  on 
the  lines  of  Catholic  doctrine,  and  having  been 
brought  forward  by  the  Easterns  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  the  emperor,  could  not  be  rejected  with- 
out impiety ;  and  what  possible  end  of  strife 
could  there  be  if  a  confession  which  satisfied 
the  Easterns  was  rejected  by  those  of  the  West? 
Finally,  if  there  appeared  anything  less  fully 
stated  in  the  present  confession  than  was  de- 
sirable, they  themselves  should  add  what  they 
thought  ought  to  be  added,  and  that  they,  for 
their  part,  would  acquiesce  in  those  things  which 
might  be  added.  This  friendly  profession  was 
received  with  favorable  minds  by  all.  Nor  did 
our  people  venture  any  longer  to  make  opposi- 
tion, desiring  as  they  did  in  some  way  or  other 
now  to  put  an  end  to  the  business.  Then  con- 
fessions drawn  up  by  Foegadius  and  Servatio 
began  to  be  published ;  and  in  these  first  Arius 
and  his  whole  unfaithful  scheme  was  condemned, 
while  the  Son  of  God  also  was l  pronounced  equal 
to  the  Father,  and  without  beginning,  [that  is] 
without   any   commencement2   in    time.     Then 


1  The  text  is  very  uncertain;  we  have  followed  that  of  Halm, 
but  the  common  text  inserts  a"  non,"  and  reads  thus:  "  but  the  Son 
of  God  is  not  pronounced  equal  to  the  Father,  and  without  begin- 
ning," etc. 

2  "  sine  tempore." 


Valens,  as  if  assisting  our  friends,  subjoined  the 
statement  (in  which  there  lurked  a  secret  guile) 
that  the  Son  of  God  was  not  a  creature  like  the 
other  creatures  ;  and  the  deceit  involved  in  this 
declaration  escaped  the  notice  of  the  hearers. 
For  in  these  words,  in  which  the  Son  was  denied 
to  be  like  the  other  creatures,  he  was  neverthe- 
less pronounced  a  creature,  only  superior  to  the 
rest.  Thus  neither  party  could  hold  that  it  had 
wholly  conquered  or  had  wholly  been  conquered, 
since  the  confession  itself  was  in  favor  of  the 
Arians,  but  the  declarations  afterwards  added 
were  in  favor  of  our  friends.  That  one,  how- 
ever, must  be  excepted  which  Valens  had  sub- 
joined, and  which,  not  being  at  the  time  under- 
stood, was  at  length  comprehended  when  it  was 
too  late.  In  this  way,  at  any  rate,  the  council 
was  brought  to  an  end,  a  council  which  had  a 
good  beginning  but  a  disgraceful  conclusion. 


CHAPTER   XLV. 

Thus,  then,  the  Arians,  with  their  affairs  in  a 
very  flourishing  condition,  and  everything  turn- 
ing out  according  to  their  wishes,  go  in  a  body 
to  Constantinople  where  the  emperor  was. 
There  they  found  the  deputies  from  the  Synod 
of  Seleucia,  and  compel  them  by  an  exercise  of 
the  royal  power  to  follow  the  example  of  the 
Westerns,  and  accept  that  heretical  confession 
of  faith.  Numbers  who  refused  were  tortured 
with  painful  imprisonment  and  hunger,  so  that 
at  length  they  yielded  their  conscience  captive. 
But  many  who  resisted  more  courageously, 
being  deprived  of  their  bishoprics,  were  driven 
into  exile,  and  others  substituted  in  their  place. 
Thus,  the  best  priests  being  either  terrified  by 
threats,  or  driven  into  exile,  all  gave  way  before 
the  unfaithfulness  of  a  few.  Hilarius  was  there 
at  the  time,  having  followed  the  deputies  from 
Seleucia ;  and  as  no  certain  orders  had  been 
given  regarding  him,  he  was  waiting  on  the  will 
of  the  emperor  to  see  whether  perchance  he 
should  be  ordered  to  return  into  banishment. 
When  he  perceived  the  extreme  danger  into 
which  the  faith  had  been  brought,  inasmuch  as 
the  Westerns  had  been  beguiled,  and  the  East- 
erns were  being  overcome  by  means  of  wicked- 
ness, he,  in  three  papers  publicly  presented, 
begged  an  audience  of  the  king,  in  order  that 
he  might  debate  on  points  of  faith  in  the  pres- 
ence of  his  adversaries.  But  the  Arians  opposed 
that  to  the  utmost  extent  of  their  ability.  Fi- 
nally, Hilarius  was  ordered  to  return  to  Gaul,  as 
being  a  sower *  of  discord,  and  a  troubler  of  the 
East,  while  the  sentence  of  exile  against  him 
remained  uncanceled.  But  when  he  had  wan- 
dered over  almost  the  whole  earth  which  was  in- 


1  "  seminarium":  lit.  seed-plot. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


119 


fected  with  the  evil  of  unfaithfulness,  his  mind 
was  full  of  doubt  and  deeply  agitated  with  the 
mighty  burden  of  cares  which  pressed  upon  it. 
Perceiving  that  it  seemed  good  to  many  not  to 
enter  into  communion  with  those  who  had  ac- 
knowledged the  Synod  of  Ariminum,  he  thought 
the  best  thing  he  could  do  was  to  bring  back  all 
to  repentance  and  reformation.  In  frequent 
councils  within  Gaul,  and  while  almost  all  the 
bishops  publicly  owned  the  error  that  had  been 
committed,  he  condemns  the  proceedings  at 
Ariminum,  and  frames  anew  the  faith  of  the 
churches  after  its  pristine  form.  Saturninus, 
however,  bishop  of  Aries,  who  was,  in  truth,  a 
very  bad  man,  of  an  evil  and  corrupt  character, 
resisted  these  sound  measures.  He  was,  in  fact, 
a  man  who,  besides  the  infamy  of  being  a  here- 
tic, was  convicted  of  many  unspeakable  crimes, 
and  cast  out  of  the  Church.  Thus,  having  lost 
its  leader,  the  strength  of  the  party  opposed  to 
Hilarius  was  broken.  Paternus  also  of  Petro- 
corii,2  equally  infatuated,  and  not  shrinking  from 
openly  professing  unfaithfulness,  was  expelled 
from  the  priesthood  :  pardon  was  extended  to 
the  others.  This  fact  is  admitted  by  all,  that 
our  regions  of  Gaul  were  set  free  from  the  guilt 
of  heresy  through  the  kind  efforts  of  Hilarius 
alone.  But  Lucifer,  who  was  then  at  Antioch, 
held  a  very  different  opinion.  For  he  con- 
demned those  who  assembled  at  Ariminum  to 
such  an  extent,  that  he  even  separated  him- 
self from  the  communion  of  those  who  had 
received  them  as  friends,  after  they  had  made 
satisfaction  or  exhibited  penitence.  Whether 
this  resolution  of  his  was  right  or  wrong,  I  will 
not  take  upon  me  to  say.  Paulinus  and  Rho- 
danius  died  in  Phrygia ;  Hilarius  died  in  his 
native  country  in  the  sixth  year  after  his  return. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

There  follow  the  times  of  our  own  day,  both 
difficult  and  dangerous.  In  these  the  churches 
have  been  defiled  with  no  ordinary  evil,  and  all 
things  thrown  into  confusion.  For  then,  for  the 
first  time,  the  infamous  heresy  of  the  Gnostics 
was  detected  in  Spain  —  a  deadly :  supersti- 
tion which  concealed  itself  under  mystic  2  rites. 
The  birthplace  of  that  mischief  was  the  East, 
and  specially  Egypt,  but  from  what  beginnings 
it  there  sprang  up  and  increased  is  not  easy  to 
explain.  Marcus  was  the  first  to  introduce  it 
into  Spain,  having  set  out  from  Egypt,  his  birth- 
place being  Memphis.  His  pupils  were  a  cer- 
tain Agape,  a  woman  of  no  mean  origin,  and  a 


2  The  modern  Periviii>iix. 

1  "superstitio    exitiahilis  ":   the  very  words  which  Tacitus  em- 
ploys^ when  speaking  of  Christianity  itself  {Anna!,  xv.  44). 
^    -  "  arcanis    occultata  secretis":    it  is  impossible  to  say  what  is 
tne  exact  meaning  of  these  words. 


rhetorician  named  Helpidius.  By  these  again 
Priscillian  was  instructed,  a  man  of  noble  birth, 
of  great  riches,  bold,  restless,  eloquent,  learned 
through  much  reading,  very  ready  at  debate  and 
discussion  —  in  fact,  altogether  a  happy  man,  if 
he  had  not  ruined  an  excellent  intellect  by 
wicked  studies.  Undoubtedly,  there  were  to 
be  seen  in  him  many  admirable  qualities  both 
of  mind  and  body.  He  was  aide  to  spend  much 
time  in  watchfulness,  and  to  endure  both  hunger 
and  thirst  ;  he  had  little  desire  for  amassing 
wealth,  and  he  was  most  economical  in  the  use 
of  it.  Put  at  the  same  time  he  was  a  very  vain 
man,  and  was  much  more  puffed  up  than  he 
ought  to  have  been  with  the  knowledge  of  mere 
earthly3  things:  moreover,  it  was  believed  that 
he  had  practised  magical  arts  from  his  boyhood. 
He,  after  having  himself  adopted  the  pernicious 
system  referred  to,  drew  into  its  acceptance 
many  persons  of  noble  rank  and  multitudes  of 
the  common  people  by  the  arts  of  persuasion 
and  flattery  which  he  possessed.  Besides  this, 
women  who  were  fond  of  novelties  and  of  un- 
stable faith,  as  well  as  of  a  prurient  curiosity  in 
all  things,  flocked  to  him  in  crowds.  It  in- 
creased this  tendency  that  he  exhibited,  a  kind 
of  humility  in  his  countenance  and  manner,  and 
thus  excited  in  all  a  greater  honor  and  respect 
for  himself.  And  now  by  degrees  the  wasting 
disorder  of  that  heresy 4  had  pervaded  the  most 
of  Spain,  and  even  some  of  the  bishops  came 
under  its  depraving  influence.  Among  these, 
Instantius  and  Salvianus  had  taken  up  the  cause 
of  Priscillian,  not  only  by  expressing  their  con- 
currence in  his  views,  but  even  by  binding  them- 
selves to  him  with  a  kind  of  oath.  This  went  on 
until  Hyginus,  bishop  of  Cordova,  who  dwelt  in 
the  vicinity,  found  out  how  matters  stood,  and 
reported  the  whole  to  Ydacius,  priest  of  Eme- 
rita.  But  he,  by  harassing  Instantius  and  his 
confederates  without  measure,  and  beyond  what 
the  occasion  called  for,  applied,  as  it  were,  a 
torch  to  the  growing  conflagration,  so  that  he 
rather  exasperated  than  suppressed  these  evil 
men. 

CHAPTER   XLVI  I. 

So,  then,  after  many  controversies  among  them, 
which  are  not  worthy  of  mention,  a  Synod  was 
assembled  at  Saragossa,  at  which  even  the  Aqui- 
tanian  bishops  were  present.  But  the  heretics 
did  not  venture  to  submit  themselves  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  council  ;  sentence,  however,  was 
passed  against  them  in  their  absence,  and  In- 
stantius and  Salivanus,  bishops,  with  Helpidius 
and  Priscillian,  laymen,  were  condemned.  It 
was  also  added  that  if  any  one  should  admit  the 


3  "  profanarum  rerum." 


:  perfidise  istius." 


120 


THE   WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


condemned  persons  to  communion,  he  should 
understand  that  the  same  sentence  would  be 
pronounced  against  himself.  And  the  duty  was 
entrusted  to  Ithacius,  bishop  of  Sossuba,  of 
seeing  that  the  decree  of  the  bishops  was  brought 
to  the  knowledge  of  all,  and  that  Hyginus  es- 
pecially should  be  excluded  from  communion, 
who,  though  he  had  been  the  first  to  commence 
open  proceedings  against  the  heretics,  had  after- 
wards fallen  away  shamefully  and  admitted  them 
to  communion.  In  the  meantime,  Instantius 
and  Salvianus,  having  been  condemned  by  the 
judgment  of  the  priests,  appoint  as  bishop  in  the 
"town  of  Aries,  Priscillian,  a  layman  indeed,  but 
the  leader  in  all  these  troubles,  and  who  had 
been  condemned  along  with  themselves  in  the 
Synod  at  Saragossa.  This  they  did  with  the 
view  of  adding  to  their  strength,  doubtless  im- 
agining that,  if  they  armed  with  sacerdotal  au- 
thority a  man  of  bold  and  subtle  character,  they 
would  find  themselves  in  a  safer  position.  But 
then  Ydacius  and  Ithacius  pressed  forward  their 
measures  more  ardently,  in  the  belief  that  the 
mischief  might  be  suppressed  at  its  beginning. 
With  unwise  counsels,  however,  they  applied  to 
secular  judges,  that  by  their  decrees  and  prose- 
cutions the  heretics  might  be  expelled  from  the 
cities.  Accordingly,  after  many  disgraceful 
squabbles,  a  rescript  was,  on  the  entreaty  of 
Ydacius,  obtained  from  Gratianus,  who  was  then 
emperor,  in  virtue  of  which  all  heretics  were 
enjoined  not  only  to  leave  churches  or  cities,  but 
to  be  driven  forth  beyond  all  the  territory  under 1 
his  jurisdiction.  When  this  edict  became  known, 
the  Gnostics,  distrusting  their  own  affairs,  did 
not  venture  to  oppose  the  judgment,  but  those 
of  them  who  bore  the  name  of  bishops  gave  way 
of  their  own  accord,  while  fear  scattered  the 
rest. 

CHAPTER   XLVIII. 

And  then  Instantius,  Salvianus,  and  Priscillian 
set  out  for  Rome,  in  order  that  before  Damasus, 
who  was  at  that  time  the  bishop  of  the  city,  they 
might  clear  themselves  of  the  charges  brought 
against  them.  Well,  their  journey  led  them 
through  the  heart  of  Aquitania,  and  being  there 
received  with  great  pomp  by  such  as  knew  no 
better,  they  spread  the  seeds  of  their  heresy. 
Above  all,  they  perverted  by  their  evil  teachings 
the  people  of  Elusa,  who  were  then  of  a  good 
and  religious  disposition.  They  were  driven 
forth  from  Bordeaux  by  Delfinus,  yet  lingering 
for  a  little  while  in  the  territory  of  Euchrotia,1 
they  infected  some  with  their  errors.  They  then 
pursued  the  journey  on  which  they  had  entered, 
attended  by  a  base  and  shameful  company,  among 


1  The  text  has  merely  "  extra  omnes  terras." 
-  Some  read  Euclirocia,  and  so  afterwards. 


whom  were  their  wives  and  even  strange  women. 
In  the  number  of  these  was  Euchrotia  and  her 
daughter  Procula,  of  the  latter  of  whom  there 
was  a  common  report  that,  when  pregnant  through 
adultery  with  Priscillian,  she  procured  abortion 
by  the  use  of  certain  plants.  When  they  reached 
Rome  with  the  wish  of  clearing  themselves  be- 
fore Damasus,  they  were  not  even  admitted  to 
his  presence.  Returning  to  Milan,  they  found 
that  Ambrose  was  equally  opposed  to  them. 
Then  they  changed  their  plans,  with  the  view 
that,  as  they  had  not  got  the  better  of  the  two 
bishops,  who  were  at  that  time  possessed  of  the 
highest  authority,  they  might,  by  bribery  and 
flattery,  obtain  what  they  desired  from  the  em- 
peror. Accordingly,  having  won  over  Macedo- 
nius,  who  was  the  master2  of  public  services, 
they  procured  a  rescript,  by  which,  those  decrees 
which  had  formerly  been  made  being  trampled 
under  foot,  they  were  ordered  to  be  restored  to 
their  churches.  Relying  upon  this,  Instantius 
and  Priscillian  made  their  way  back  to  Spain 
(for  Salvianus  had  died  in  the  city)  ;  and  they 
then,  without  any  struggle,  recovered  the  churches 
over  which  they  had  ruled. 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 

But  the  power,  not  the  will,  to  resist,  failed 
Ithacius  ;  for  the  heretics  had  won  over  by  bribes 
Voluentius,  the  proconsul,  and  thus  consolidated 
their  own  power.  Moreover,  Ithacius  was  put 
on  his  trial,  by  these  men  as  being  a  disturber 
of  the  churches,  and  he  having  been  ordered  as 
the  result  of  a  fierce  prosecution,  to  be  carried 
off1  as  a  prisoner,  fled  in  terror  into  Gaul,  where 
he  betook  himself  to  Gregory  the  prefect.  He, 
after  he  learned  what  had  taken  place,  orders 
the  authors  of  these  tumults  to  be  brought  before 
himself,  and  makes  a  report  on  all  that  had 
occurred  to  the  emperor,  in  order  that  he  might 
close  against  the  heretics  every  means  of  flattery 
or  bribery.  But  that  was  done  in  vain  ;  because, 
through  the  licentiousness  and  power  of  a  few, 
all  things  were  there  to  be  purchased.  Accord- 
ingly, the  heretics  by  their  artifices,  having 
presented  Macedonius  with  a  large  sum  of 
money,  secure  that,  by  the  imperial  authority, 
the  hearing  of  the  trial  was  taken  from  the  pre- 
fect, and  transferred  to  the  lieutenant  in  Spain. 
By  that  time,  the  Spaniards  had  ceased  to  have 
a  proconsul  as  ruler,  and  officials  were  sent 
by  the  Master  to  bring  back  to  Spain  Ithacius 
who  was  then  living  at  Treves.  He,  however, 
craftily  escaped  them,  and  being  subsequently  de- 
fended by  the  bishop  Pritannius,  he  set  them  at 


2  "  magistro  officiorum." 

1  This  appears  to  be  the  meaning,  but  the  text  is  obscure. 


THE    SACRED    HISTORY    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


121 


defiance.  Then,  too,  a  faint 2  rumor  had  spread 
that  Maximus  had  assumed  imperial  power  in 
Britain,  and  would,  in  a  short  time,  make  an 
incursion  into  Gaul.  Accordingly,  Ithacius  then 
resolved,  although  his  affairs  were  in  a  ticklish 
state,  to  wait  the  arrival  of  the  new  emperor ; 
and  that,  in  the  meantime,  no  step  should  on 
his  part  be  taken.  When  therefore  Maximus, 
as  victor,  entered  the  town  of  the  Treveri,  he 
poured  forth  entreaties  full  of  ill-will  and  accusa- 
tions against  Priscillian  and  his  confederates. 
The  emperor  influenced  by  these  statements, 
sent  letters  to  the  prefeet  of  Gaul  and  to  the 
lieutenant  in  Spain,  ordering  that  all  whom  that 
disgraceful3  heresy  had  affected  should  be 
brought  to  a  Synod  at  Bordeaux.  Accordingly, 
Instantius  and  Priscillian  were  escorted  thither, 
and,  of  these,  Instantius  was  enjoined  to  plead 
his  cause  ;  and  after  he  was  found  unable  to 
clear  himself,  he  was  pronounced  unworthy  of 
the  office  of  a  bishop.  But  Priscillian,  in  order 
that  he  might  avoid  being  heard  by  the  bishops, 
appealed  to  the  emperor.  And  that  was  per- 
mitted to  be  done  through  the  want  of  resolution 
on  the  part  of  our  friends,  who  ought  either  to 
have  passed  a  sentence  even  against  one  who 
resisted  it,  or,  if  they  were  regarded  as  them- 
selves suspicious  persons,  should  have  reserved 
the  hearing  for  other  bishops,  and  should  not 
have  transferred  to  the  emperor  a  cause  involv- 
ing such  manifest  offences. 


CHAPTER   L. 

Thus,  then,  all  whom  the  process  embraced 
were  brought  before  the  king.  The  bishops 
Ydacius  and  Ithacius  followed  as  accusers ;  and 
I  would  by  no  means  blame  their  zeal  in  over- 
throwing heretics,  if  they  had  not  contended 
for  victory  with  greater  keenness  than  was  fitting. 
And  my  feeling  indeed  is,  that  the  accusers  were 
as  distasteful  to  me  as  the  accused.  I  certainly 
hold  that  Ithacius  had  no  worth  or  holiness 
about  him.  For  he  was  a  bold,  loquacious, 
impudent,  and  extravagant  man ;  excessively 
devoted  to  the  pleasures  of  sensuality.  He 
proceeded  even  to  such  a  pitch  of  folly  as  to 
charge  all  those  men,  however  holy,  who  either 
took  delight  in  reading,  or  made  it  their  object 
to  vie  with  each  other  in  the  practice  of  fasting, 
with  being  friends  or  disciples  of  Priscillian. 
The  miserable  wretch  even  ventured  publicly  to 
bring  forward  a  disgraceful  charge  of  heresy 
against  Martin,  who  was  at  that  time  a  bishop, 
and  a  man  clearly  worthy  of  being  compared  to 
the  Apostles.  For  Martin,  being  then  settled  at 
Treves,   did   not   cease   to    importune    Ithacius, 

2  "  clemens  "  :  some  read  "  Clementen,"  and  join  it  with  "  Max- 
imum." 3  "labes  ilia." 


that  he  should  give  up  his  accusations,  or  to 
implore  Maximus  that  he  should  not  shed  the 
blood  of  the  unhappy  persons  in  question.  He 
maintained  that  it  was  quite  sufficient  punish- 
ment that,  having  been  declared  heretics  by  a 
sentence  of  the  bishops,  they  should  have  been 
expelled  from  the  churches  ;  and  that  it  was, 
besides,  a  foul  and  unheard-of  indignity,  that  a 
secular  ruler  should  be  judge  in  an  ecclesiastical 
cause.  And,  in  fact,  as  long  as  Martin  survived, 
the  trial  was  put  off;  while,  when  he  was  about 
to  leave  this  world,  he,  by  his  remarkable  influ- 
ence, obtained  a  promise  from  Maximus,  that 
no  cruel  measure  would  be  resolved  on  with 
respect  to  the  guilty  persons.  But  subsequently, 
the  emperor  being  led  astray  by  Magnus  and 
Rufus,  and  turned  from  the  milder  course  which 
Martin  had  counseled,  entrusted  the  case  to  the 
prefect  Evodius,  a  man  of  stern  and  severe 
character.  He  tried  Priscillian  in  two  assemblies, 
and  convicted  him  of  evil  conduct.  In .  fact, 
Priscillian  did  not  deny  that  he  had  given  him- 
self up  to  lewd  doctrines  ;  had  been  accustomed 
to  hold,  by  night,  gatherings .  of  vile  women, 
and  to  pray  in  a  state  of  nudity.  Accordingly, 
Evodius  pronounced  him  guilty,  and  sent  him 
back  to  prison,  until  he  had  time  to  consult 
the  emperor.  The  matter,  then,  in  all  its  de- 
tails, was  reported  to  the  palace,  and  the  em- 
peror decreed  that  Priscillian  and  his  friends 
should  be  put  to  death. 


CHAPTER   LI. 

But  Ithacius,  seeing  how  much  ill-will  it 
would  excite  against  him  among  the  bishops,  if 
he  should  stand  forth  as  accuser  also  at  the  last 
trial  on  a  capital  charge  (for  it  was  requisite  that 
the  trial  should  be  repeated),  withdrew  from  the 
prosecution.  His  cunning,  however,  in  thus 
acting  was  in  vain,  as  the  mischief  was  already 
accomplished.  Well,  a  certain  Patricius,  an  ad- 
vocate connected  with  the  treasury,  was  then 
appointed  accuser  by  Maximus.  Accordingly, 
under  him  as  prosecutor,  Priscillian  was  con- 
demned to  death,  and  along  with  him,  Felicissi- 
mus  and  Armenius,  who,  when  they  were  clerics, 
had  lately  adopted  the  cause  of  Priscillian,  and 
revolted  from  the  Catholics.  Latronianus,  too, 
and  Euchrotia  were  beheaded.  Instantius,  who, 
as  we  have  said  above,  had  been  condemned  by 
the  bishops,  was  transported  to  the  island  of 
Sylina1  which  lies  beyond  Britain.  A  process 
was  then  instituted  against  the  others  in  trials 
which  followed,  and  Asarivus,  and  Aurelius  the 
deacon,  were  condemned  to  be  beheaded,  while 
Tiberianus  was  deprived  of  his  goods,  and  ban- 


1  Halm  prefers  the  form  "  Sylinancim"  to  "  Sylinam. 
erence  is  probably  to  the  Scilly  Isles. 


The  ref- 


122 


THE    WRITINGS    OF    SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


ished  to  the  island  of  Sylina.  Tertullus,  Pota- 
mius,  and  Joannes,  as  being  persons  of  less  con- 
sideration, and  worthy  of  some  merciful  treat- 
ment, inasmuch  as  before  the  trial  they  had 
made  a  confession,  both  as  to  themselves  and 
their  confederates,  were  sentenced  to  a  tem- 
porary banishment  into  Gaul.  In  this  sort  of 
way,  men  who  were  most  unworthy  of  the  light 
of  day,  were,  in  order  that  they  might  serve  as 
a  terrible  example  to  others,  either  put  to  death 
or  punished  with  exile.  That  conduct2  which 
he  had  at  first  defended  by  his  right  of  appeal 
to  the  tribunals,  and  by  regard  to  the  public 
good,  Ithacius,  harassed3  with  invectives,  and 
at  last  overcome,  threw  the  blame  of  upon 
those,  by  whose  direction  and  counsels  he  had 
effected  his  object.  Yet  he  was  the  only  one  of 
all  of  them  who  was  thrust  out  of  the  episcopate. 
For  Ydacius,  although  less  guilty,  had  voluntarily 
resigned  his  bishopric :  that  was  wisely  and 
respectfully  done,  had  he  not  afterward  spoiled 
the  credit  of  such  a  step  by  endeavoring  to  re- 


2  The  meaning  seems  to  be,  that  Ithacius  being  blamed  for  bring- 
ing accusations  against  his  brethren,  at  first  defended  his  conduct  by 
an  appeal  to  the  laws  and  the  public  weal,  both  of  which  justified 
the  prosecution  of  heretics;  but  being  at  last  driven  from  this  posi- 
tion, he  turned  round  and  cast  the  blame  upon  those  for  whom 
he  had  acted. 

3  Some  read  "  solitus,"  instead  of  "  sollicitus." 


cover  the  position  which  had  been  lost.  Well, 
after  the  death  of  Priscillian,  not  only  was  the 
heresy  not  suppressed,  which,  under  him,  as  its 
author,  had  burst  forth,  but  acquiring  strength, 
it  became  more  widely  spread.  For  his  follow- 
ers who  had  previously  honored  him  as  a  saint, 
subsequently  began  to  reverence  him  as  a  mar- 
tyr. The  bodies  of  those  who  had  been  put  to 
death  were  conveyed  to  Spain,  and  their  funerals 
were  celebrated  with  great  pomp.  Nay,  it  came 
to  be  thought  the  highest  exercise  of  religion  to 
swear  by  Priscillian.  But  between  them  and 
our  friends,  a  perpetual  war  of  quarreling  has 
been  kept  up.  And  that  conflict,  after  being 
sustained  for  fifteen  years  with  horrible  dissen- 
sion, could  not  by  any  means  be  set  at  rest. 
And  now  all  things  were  seen  to  be  disturbed 
and  confused  by  the  discord,  especially  of  the 
bishops,  while  everything  was  corrupted  by  them 
through  their  hatred,  partiality,  fear,  faithless- 
ness, envy,  factiousness,  lust,  avarice,  pride, 
sleepiness,  and  inactivity.  In  a  word,  a  large 
number  were  striving  with  insane  plans  and  ob- 
stinate inclinations  against  a  few  giving  wise 
counsel :  while,  in  the  meantime,  the  people  of 
God,  and  all  the  excellent  of  the  earth  were 
exposed  to  mockery  and  insult. 


THE  COMMONITORY 


OF 


VINCENT    OF    LERINS, 

FOR  THE    ANTIQUITY    AND    UNIVERSALITY    OF    THE    CATHOLIC    FAITH 
AGAINST    THE   PROFANE    NOVELTIES   OF    ALL   HERESIES: 

TRANSLATED    BY 

THE   REV.   C.   A.    HEURTLEY,   D.D., 

THE   LADY    MARGARET'S   PROFESSOR   OF   DIVINITY  IN   THE   UNIVERSITY   OF  OXFORD, 
AND   CANON    OF   CHRIST   CHURCH. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION 127 

Chapter  I.  —  The  Object  of  the  Following  Treatise 131 

Chapter  II.  —  A  General  Rule  for  distinguishing  the  Truth  of  the   Catholic   Faith  from  the 

Falsehood  of  Heretical  Pravity 132 

Chapter  III. —  A  difficulty  solved 133 

Chapter  IV.  —  The  evil  resulting  from  the  introduction  of  Novel  Doctrine  exemplified  in  the 

instances  of  the  Donatists  and  Arians 133 

Chapter  V.  —  The  Example  of  the  Martyrs  whom  no  force  could  deter  from  maintaining  the 

Faith  of  their  Predecessors 134 

Chapter  VI.  —  The  example  of  Pope  Stephen  in  resisting  the  Iteration  of  Baptism     .....  134 
Chapter  VII.  —  How  Heretics  craftily  cite  obscure    passages  in  ancient  writers  in  support  of 

their  novelties m.     .  136 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Exposition  of  St.  Paul's  words,  Gal.  i 136 

Chapter  IX.  —  St.  Paul's  warning  to  the  Galatians  a  warning  to  all       137 

Chapter  X.  —  Why  God  permits  Eminent  Men  to  become  Authors  of  Novelties 137 

Chapter  XI. — The  words  of  Moses,  Deut.  xiii.  1,  exemplified  in  the  History  of  the  Church   .     .  138 

Chapter  XII.  —  The  Heresies  of  Photinus,  Apollinaris,  and  Nestorius 139 

Chapter  XIII.  —  The  Catholic  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity  and  of  the  Incarnation 140 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Jesus  Christ  very  Man 141 

Chapter  XV.  —  The  Word  took  our  Nature  in  the  Womb  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  whence  She  is 

truly  "  Theotocos,"  the  Mother  of  God 142 

Chapter  XVI.  —  Recapitulation  of  Chapters  XIII.,  XIV.,  and  XV 143 

Chapter  XVI  I.  —  The  Error  of  Origen  a  great  Trial  to  the  Church       143 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  Tertullian 145 

Chapter  XIX.  —  The  Lessons  taught  by  the  foregoing  Examples 145 

Chapter  XX.  —  The  Characteristics  of  a  true  Catholic 146 

Chapter  XXI.  —  Exposition  of  1  Tim.  vi.  20 146 

Chapter  XXII.  —  The  same  continued 147 

Chapter  XXIII.  —  Of  Development  in  Religious  Doctrine 147 

Chapter  XXIV.  —  Renewed  consideration  of  1  Tim.  vi.  20 149 

Chapter  XXV.  —  Heretics  appeal  to  Scripture 150 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  Following  therein  the  example  of  Satan 151 

Chapter  XXVII.  —  Rule  for  the  Interpretation  of  Scripture 152 

Chapter  XXVIII.  —  Rules  for  the  Detection  of  Heretical  Novelties 152 

Chapter  XXIX.  —  Recapitulation  of  the  subject  matter  of  both  Commonitories 153 

Chapter  XXX.  —  The  Council  of  Ephesus 154 

Chapter  XXXI.  —  The  Example  set  by  the  Fathers  of  the  Council  of  Ephesus 155 

Chapter  XXXII.  —  The  Example  of  Popes  Celestine  and  Sixtus 155 

Chapter  XXXIII.  —  Conclusion '. 156 


INTRODUCTION. 


Very  little  is  known  of  the  author  of  the  following  Treatise.  He  writes  under  the 
assumed  name  of  Peregrinus,  but  Gennadius  of  Marseilles,1  who  flourished  a.d.  495,  some 
sixty  years  after  its  date,  ascribes  it  to  Vincentius,  an  inmate  of  the  famous  monastery  of 
Lerins,  in  the  island  of  that  name,2  and  his  ascription  has  been  universally  accepted. 

Vincentius  was  of  Gallic  nationality.  In  earlier  life  he  had  been  engaged  in  secular 
pursuits,  whether  civil  or  military  is  not  clear,  though  the  term  he  uses,  "secularis  militia," 
might  possibly  imply  the  latter.  He  refers  to  the  Council  of  Ephesus,  held  in  the  summer 
and  early  autumn  of  431,  as  having  been  held  some  three  years  previously  to  the  time  at 
which  he  was  writing  " ante  triennium  ferine."3  This  gives  the  date  of  the  Commonitory 
434.  Cyril,  bishop  of  Alexandria,  was  still  living.4  Sixtus  the  Third  had  succeeded  to 
the  See  of  Rome;5  his  predecessor,  Celestine,  having  died  in  432.  Gennadius  says  that 
Vincentius  died,  "Theodosio  et  Valentiniano  regnantibus. " 6  Theodosius  died,  leaving 
Valentinian  still  reigning,  in  July,  450.  Vincentius'  death,  therefore,  must  have  occurred  in 
or  before  that  year. 

Baronius  places  his  name  in  the  Roman  Martyrology,  Tillemont  doubts  whether  with 
sufficient  reason.7     He  is  commemorated  on  the  24th  of  May. 

Vincentius  has  been  charged  with  Semipelagianism.  Whether  he  actually  held  the 
doctrine  which  was  afterwards  called  by  that  name  is  not  clear.  Certainly  the  express 
enunciation  of  it  is  nowhere  to  be  found  in  the  Commonitory.  But  it  is  extremely  probable 
that  at  least  his  sympathies  were  with  those  who  held  it.  For  not  only  does  he  omit  the 
name  of  St.  Augustine,  who  was  especially  obnoxious  to  them,  when  making  honorable 
mention  at  any  time  of  the  champions  of  the  faith,  but  he  denounces  his  doctrine,  though 
under  a  misrepresentation  of  it,  as  one  of  the  forms  of  that  novel  error  which  he  reprobates.8 
Indeed,  whoever  will  compare  what  he  says  in  §  70  of  the  heresy  which  he  describes  but 
forbears  to  name,  with  Prosper's  account  of  the  charges  brought  against  Augustine  by 
certain  Semipelagian  clergymen  of  Marseilles,9  will  have  little  doubt  that  Vincentius  and 
they  had  the  same  teacher  in  view,  and  were  of  the  same  mind  with  regard  to  his  teaching. 

1  De  Scrifitoribus  Ecclesiasticis.  Gennadius's  work  is  to  be  found  at  the  end  of  the  second  volume  of  Vallarsius's  edition  of  St. 
Jerome's  works. 

2  Now  St.  Honorat,  so  called  from  St.  Honoratus,  the  founder  of  the  monastery. 

The  monastery  seems  at  first  to  have  consisted  of  an  aggregation  of  separate  cells,  each  of  which,  according  to  the  usage  of  that  time, 
would  be  called  a  "  monasterium."  "  Tota  ubique  insula,  exstructis  cellulis,  unum  velut  monasterium  evasit." — Cardinal  Noris,  Histor. 
Pelag.  p.  251.     "Monasterium  potest  unius  monachi  habitaculum  nominari."  —  Cassian.  Collat.  xvii.  iS. 

Among  its  more  prominent  members,  contemporary  with  Vincentius,  were  Honoratus  and  Hilary,  afterwards  successively  bishops  of 
Aries,  and  Faustus,  afterwards  bishop  of  Riez,  all  of  them  in  sympathy  with  the  neighbouring  clergy  of  Marseilles,  opposed  to  St.  Augustine's 
later  teaching,  and  holding  what  was  afterwards  called  Semipelagian  doctrine. 

The  adjoining  islet  of  St.  Marguerite,  one  of  the  LeVins  group,  has  acquired  notoriety  of  late,  from  having  been  the  place  to  which  Mar- 
shal Bazaine,  the  betrayer  of  Metz,  was  banished  in  1S73. 

3  §  79-  4  §  So.  6  §  85.  c  De  Illustr.  Eccles.  Scrip,  c.  84.  7  xv.  p.  146. 

8  Cardinal  Noris  does  not  hesitate  to  say  of  him,  "  Non  modo  Semipelagianum  se  prodit,  sed  disertis  verbis  Augustini  discipuros 
tanquam  hasreticos  traducit."  —  Historia  Pelagiana,  p.  245.     See  below,  Appendix  II. 

9  See  Prosper's  letter  to  Augustine  in  Augustine's  works,  Ep.  225,  Tom.  ii.  Ed.  Paris,  1836,  etc. 

127 


128  INTRODUCTION. 


Be  this  however  as  it  may,  when  it  is  considered  that  the  monks  of  Lerins,  in  common  with 
the  general  body  of  the  churchmen  of  Southern  Gaul,  were  strenuous  upholders  of  Semipela- 
gianism,  it  will  not  be  thought  surprising  that  Vincentius  should  have  been  suspected  of  at 
least  a  leaning  in  that  direction.  Tillemont,  who  forbears  to  express  himself  decidedly,  but 
evidently  inclines  to  that  view,  says  "L'opinion  qui  le  condamne  et  l'abandonne  aux  Semi- 
pelagiens  passe  aujourd'hui  pour  la  plus  commune  parmi  les  savans."1 

It  has  been  matter  of  question  whether  Vincentius  is  to  be  credited  with  the  authorship 
of  the  "Objectiones  Vincentianae,"  a  collection  of  Sixteen  Inferences  alleged  to  be  dedu- 
cible  from  St.  Augustine's  writings,  which  has  come  down  to  us  in  Prosper's  Reply. 

Its  date  coincides  so  nearly  with  that  of  the  Commonitory  as  to  preclude  all  doubt 
as  to  the  identity  of  authorship  on  that  score,2  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  its  animus 
and  that  of  the  70th  and  86th  sections  of  the  Commonitory  are  too  much  in  keeping  to  make 
it  difficult  to  believe  that  both  are  from  the  same  pen. 

Vincentius's  object  in  the  following  treatise  is  to  provide  himself,  as  he  states,  with  a 
general  rule  whereby  to  distinguish  Catholic  truth  from  heresy;  and  he  commits  what  he  has 
learnt,  he  adds,  to  writing,  that  he  may  have  it  by  him  for  reference  as  a  Commonitory,  or 
Remembrancer,  to  refresh  his  memory. 

This  rule,  in  brief,  is  the  authority  of  Holy  Scripture.  By  that  all  questions  must  be 
tried  in  the  first  instance.  And  it  would  be  abundantly  sufficient,  but  that,  unfortunately, 
men  differ  in  the  interpretation  of  Holy  Scripture.  The  rule,  therefore,  must  be  supple- 
mented by  an  appeal  to  that  sense  of  Holy  Scripture  which  is  supported  by  universality, 
antiquity,  and  consent:  by  universality,  when  it  is  the  faith  of  the  whole  Church;  by 
antiquity,  when  it  is  that  which  has  been  held  from  the  earliest  times;  by  consent,  when  it 
has  been  the  acknowledged  belief  of  all,  or  of  almost  all,  whose  office  and  character  gave 
authority  to  their  determinations.  This  is  the  famous  "Quod  ubique,  quod  semper,  quod  ab 
omnibus,"  with  which  Vincentius's  name  is  associated."  8  The  body  of  the  work  is  taken 
up  with  its  illustration  and  application. 

The  work  consisted  originally  of  two  books;  but  unfortunately  the  second  was  lost,  or 
rather,  as  Gennadius  says,  was  stolen,  while  the  author  was  still  alive;  and  there  remains 
to  us  nothing  but  a  recapitulation  of  its  contents,  which  the  authour,  unwilling  to  encounter 
the  labour  of  re-writing  the  whole,  has  drawn  up.4 

In  prosecution  of  his  purpose  Vincentius  proceeds  to  show  how  his  rule  applies  for  the 
detection  of  error  in  the  instances  of  some  of  the  more  notorious  heretics  and  schismatics 
who  up  to  his  time  had  made  havoc  of  the  Church, —  the  Donatists  and  the  Arians,  for 
instance,  and  the  maintainers  of  the  iteration  of  Baptism;  and  how  the  great  defenders  of 
the  Faith  were  guided  in  their  maintenance  of  the  truth  by  its  observance.5 

But  the  perplexing  question  occurs:  Wherefore,  in  God's  providence,  were  persons, 
eminent  for  their  attainments  and  their  piety,  such  as  Photinus,  Apollinaris,  and  Nestorius, 
permitted  to  fall  into  heresy?6  To  which  the  answer  is,  For  the  Church's  trial.  And 
Vincentius  proceeds  to  show,  in  the  case  of  each  of  these,  how  great  a  trial  to  the  Church 
his  fall  was.  This  leads  him  to  give  an  account  of  their  erroneous  teaching  severally,7  from 
which  he  turns  aside  for  a  while  to  expound  the  Catholic  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  as  opposed 
to  the  heresy  of  Photinus,  and  of  the  Incarnation  as  opposed  to  the  heresies  of  Apollinaris 
and  Nestorius,  in  an  exposition  remarkable  for  its  clearness  and  precision.8  It  contains  so 
much  in  common  with  the  so-called  Athanasian  Creed,  both  as  to  the  sentiments  and  the 

1  T.  xv.  p.  146. 

-  The  Objectiones  Vincentianae  must  have  been  published  at  some  time  between  the  publication  of  St.  Augustine's  Antipelagian  Treatises 
and  the  death  of  Prosper.  They  are  to  be  found  in  Prosper's  Reply,  contained  in  St.  Augustine's  works,  Appendix,  Tom.  x.  coll.  2535 
et  seq.     Paris,  1S36,  etc. 

3  §  6.  *  §§  77-SS.  5  §§  9  m,  6  §§  2?  sqq.  T  §§  32  sgq.  t  §§  36  sgq. 


INTRODUCTION.  129 


language,  that  some  have  inferred  from  it,  that  Vincentius  was  the  author  of  that  Formu- 
lary. 1 

Returning  from  this  digression,  Vincentius  proceeds,  after  promising  to  deal  with  these 
subjects  more  fully  on  a  future  occasion,'2  to  two  other  very  signal  instances  of  heretical 
defection  caused  by  the  disregard  of  antiquity  and  universality;  those  of  Origen3and 
Tertullian,4  of  both  of  whom  he  draws  a  vivid  picture,  contrasting  them,  such  as  they  were 
before  their  fall  with  what  they  became  afterwards,  and  enlarging  on  the  grievous  injury  to 
the  Church  generally,  and  the  distressing  trial  to  individuals  in  particular,  consequent 
upon  their  defection. 

But  it  will  be  asked,  Is  Christian  doctrine  to  remain  at  a  standstill?  Is  there  to  be 
no  progresss,  as  in  other  sciences?5  Undoubtedly  there  is  to  be  progress;  but  it  must  be 
real  progress,  analogous,  for  instance,  to  the  growth  of  the  human  body  from  infancy  to 
childhood,  from  childhood  to  mature  age;  or  to  the  development  of  a  plant  from  the  seed 
to  the  full-grown  vegetable  or  tree;  it  must  be  such  as  the  elucidation  of  what  was  before 
obscure,  the  following  out  into  detail  of  what  was  before  expressed  only  in  general  terms,0 
not  the  addition  of  new  doctrine,  not  the  rejection  of  old. 

One  difficulty  which  is  not  unlikely  to  perplex  a  simple  Christian  is  the  readiness  with 
which  heretics  appeal  to  Scripture,  following  therein  the  example  of  their  arch-leader,  who, 
in  his  temptation  of  our  Lord,  dared  to  make  use  of  arms  drawn  from  that  armoury.7  This 
leads  to  the  question,  How  are  we  to  ascertain  the  true  sense  of  Scripture?  And,  in  the 
answer  to  it,  to  a  more  detailed  exposition  of  the  general  rule  given  at  the  outset. 

Scripture,  then,  must  be  interpreted  in  accordance  with  the  tradition  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  our  guide  being  antiquity,  universality,  consent. 

With  regard  to  antiquity,  that  interpretation  must  be  held  to  which  has  been  handed 
down  from  the  earliest  times;  with  regard  to  universality,  that  which  has  always  been  held, 
if  not  by  all,  at  least  by  the  most  part,  in  preference  to  that  which  has  been  held  only  by  a 
few;  with  regard  to  consent,  the  determination  of  a  General  Council  on  any  point  will  of 
course  be  of  summary  authority,  and  will  hold  the  first  place ;  next  to  this,  the  interpre- 
tation which  has  been  held  uniformly  and  persistently  by  all  those  Fathers,  or  by  a  majority 
of  them,  who  have  lived  and  died  in  the  communion  of  the  Catholic  Church.  Accordingly, 
whatsoever  interpretation  of  Holy  Scripture  is  opposed  to  an  interpretation  thus  authenti- 
cated, even  though  supported  by  the  authority  of  one  or  another  individual  teacher,  how- 
ever eminent,  whether  by  his  position,  or  his  attainments,  or  his  piety,  or  by  all  of  these 
together,  must  be  rejected  as  novel  and  unsound. 

Here  the  first  Commonitory  ends;  but  it  ends  with  a  promise  of  a  still  further  and  more 
detailed  inquiry,  to  be  prosecuted  in  the  Commonitory  which  is  to  follow,  into  the  way  in 
which  the  opinions  of  the  ancient  Fathers  are  to  be  collected,  and  the  rule  of  faith  deter- 
mined in  accordance  with  them. 

Unfortunately  that  promise,  however  fulfilled  according  to  the  author's  intention,  has 
been  frustrated  to  his  readers.  The  second  Commonitory,  as  was  said  above,  was  lost,  or 
rather  stolen,  and  all  that  remains  to  us  is  a  brief  and  apparently  partial  recapitulation  of 
its  contents  and  of  the  contents  of  the  preceding. 

1  Antelmi,  Nova  de  Symbolo  Athanasiano  Disquisitio.     See  the  note  on  §  42,  Appendix  I. 

2  42.  3  §§  44-46.  4  §  47.  6  §  55. 

0  §§  55_6°-  For  instances  in  point,  he  might  have  referred  to  the  enlargement  and  expansion  of  the  earlier  Creed,  first  in  the  Nicene, 
afterward  in  the  Constantinopolitan  Formulary.  Thus,  in  the  Definition  of  the  Faith  of  the  Council  of  Chnlcedon,  the  Fathers  are  careful 
to  explain  that  they  are  making  no  addition  to  the  original  deposit,  but  simply  unfolding  and  rendering  more  intelligible  what  before  had 
been  less  distinctly  set  forth :  "  Teaching  in  its  fulness  the  doctrine  which  from  the  beginning  hath  remained  unshaken,  it  decrees,  in  the 
first  place,  that  the  Creed  of  the  31S  (the  original  Nicene  Creed)  remain  untouched;  and  on  account  of  those  who  impugn  the  Holy  Spirit, 
it  ratifies  and  confirms  the  doctrine  subsequently  delivered,  concerning  the  essence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  by  the  hundred  and  fifty  holy 
Fathers,  (the  Constantinopolitan  Creed),  which  they  promulgated  for  universal  acceptance,  not  as  though  they  were  supplying  some 
omission  of  their  predecessors,  but  testifying  in  express  words  in  writing  their  own  minds  concerning  the  Holy  Spirit." 

7  §§  65  Sqq. 


130  INTRODUCTION. 


In  this  Vincentius  repeats  the  rule  for  ascertaining  the  Catholic  doctrine  which  he  had 
laid  down  at  the  outset,  enlarging  especially  upon  the  way  in  which  the  consent  of  the 
Fathers  is  to  be  arrived  at,  and  illustrating  what  he  says  by  the  course  pursued  by  the 
Council  of  Ephesus  in  the  matter  of  Nestorius, — how  the  Fathers  of  the  Council,  instead 
of  resting  upon  their  own  judgment,  eminent  as  many  of  them  were,  collected  together  the 
opinions  of  the  most  illustrious  of  their  predecessors,  and  following  their  consentient  belief, 
determined  the  question  before  them.  To  this  most  noteworthy  example  he  adds  the 
authority  of  two  bishops  of  Rome,  Sixtus  III.,  then  occupying  the  Papal  Chair,  and 
Celestine,  his  immediate  predecessor,  — the  gist  of  the  whole  being  the  confirmation  of  the 
rule  which  it  had  been  his  object  to  enforce  throughout  the  Treatise  —  that  profane  novel- 
ties must  be  rejected,  and  that  faith  alone  adhered  to  which  the  universal  Church  has  held 
consentiently  from  the  earliest  times,  Quod  ubique,  quod  semper,  quod  ab  omnibus. 


A  COMMONITORY" 

FOR  THE    ANTIQUITY    AND    UNIVERSALITY    OF    THE    CATHOLIC    FAITH 
AGAINST    THE   PROFANE    NOVELTIES   OF    ALL   HERESIES. 


CHAPTER   I. 

The  Object  of  the  Following  Treatise. 

[i.]  I,  Peregrinus,2  who  am  the  least  of  all 
the  servants  of  God,  remembering  the  admo- 
nition of  Scripture,  "Ask  thy  fathers  and 
they  will  tell  thee,  thine  elders  and  they  will 
declare  unto  thee,"3  and  again,  "Bow  down 
thine  ear  to  the  words  of  the  wise,"4  and 
once  more,  "My  son,  forget  not  these  instruc- 
tions, but  let  thy  heart  keep  my  words :  " 5 
remembering  these  admonitions,  I  say,  I,  Pere- 
grinus, am  persuaded,  that,  the  Lord  helping 
me,  it  will  be  of  no  little  use  and  certainly  as 
regards  my  own  feeble  powers,  it  is  most  neces- 
sary, that  I  should  put  down  in  writing  the 
things  which  I  have  truthfully  received  from 
the  holy  Fathers,  since  I  shall  then  have  ready 
at  hand  wherewith  by  constant  reading  to  make 
amends  for  the  weakness  of  my  memory. 

[2.]  To  this  I  am  incited  not  only  by 
regard  to  the  fruit  to  be  expected  from  my 
labour  but  also  by  the  consideration  of  time 
and  the  opportuneness  of  place: 

By  the  consideration  of  time,  —  for  seeing 
that  time  seizes  upon  all  things  human,  we 
also  in  turn  ought  to  snatch  from  it  some- 
thing  which    may   profit    us    to   eternal    life, 


1  Commonitory.  I  have  retained  the  original  title  in  its  angli- 
cised form,  already  familiar  to  English  ears  in  connection  with  the 
name  of  Vincentius.  Its  meaning,  as  he  uses  it,  is  indicated  suffi- 
ciently, in  §  3,  "An  aid  to  memory."  Technically,  it  meant  a  Paper 
of  Instructions  given  to  a  person  charged  with  a  commission,  to  assist 
his  memory  as  to  its  details. 

2  Peregrinus.  It  does  not  appear  why  Vincentius  writes  under  an 
assumed  name.  Vossius,  with  whom  Cardinal  Noris  evidently  agrees, 
supposes  that  his  object  was  to  avoid  openly  avowing  himself  the  author 
of  a  work  which  covertly  attacked  St.  Augustine.  Vossius,  Histor. 
Pelag.  p.  40.  Ego  quidem  ad  Vossii  sententiam  plane  accessissem, 
nisi  tot  delataa  a  sapientissimis  Scriptoribus  Commonitorio  laudes 
religionem  mihi  pene  injecissent.  —Noris,  Histor.  Pelag.  p.  246. 

3  Deut.  xxxii.  7. 

4  Prov.  xxii.  17. 
6  Prov.  iii.  1. 


especially  since  a  certain  awful  expectation  of 
the  approach  of  the  divine  judgment  importu- 
nately demands  increased  earnestness  in  reli- 
gion, while  the  subtle  craftiness  of  new  heretics 
calls  for  no  ordinary,  care  and  attention. 

I  am  incited  also  by  the  opportuneness  of 
place,  in  that,  avoiding  the  concourse  and 
crowds  of  cities,  I  am  dwelling  in  the  seclu- 
sion of  a  Monastery,  situated  in  a  remote 
grange,6  where,  I  can  follow  without  distrac- 
tion the  Psalmist's7  admonition,  "Be  still, 
and  know  that  I  am  God." 

Moreover,  it  suits  well  with  my  purpose 
in  adopting  this  life;  for,  whereas  I  was  at 
one  time  involved  in  the  manifold  and  de- 
plorable tempests  of  secular  warfare,  I  have 
now  at  length,  under  Christ's  auspices,  cast 
anchor  in  the  harbour  of  religion,  a  harbour 
to  all  always  most  safe,  in  order  that,  having 
there  been  freed  from  the  blasts  of  vanity  and 
pride,  and  propitiating  God  by  the  sacrifice 
of  Christian  humility,  I  may  be  able  to 
escape  not  only  the  shipwrecks  of  the  present 
life,  but  also  the  flames  of  the  world  to  come. 

[3.]  But  now,  in  the  Lord's  name,  I  will 
set  about  the  object  I  have  in  view;  that  is  to 
say,  to  record  with  the  fidelity  of  a  narrator 
rather  than  the  presumption  of  an  author,  the 
things  which  our  forefathers  have  handed 
down  to  us  and  committed  to  our  keeping, 
yet  observing  this  rule  in  what  I  write,  that  I 


6  Noris,  from  this  word,  "  villula,"  a  grange  or  country  house, 
concludes  that  Vincentius,  at  the  time  of  writing,  though  a  monk, 
was  not  a  monk  of  Lerins,  for  there  could  be  no  "villula"  there 
then,  Honoratus  having  found  the  island  desolate  and  without 
inhabitant,  when  he  settled  on  it  but  a  few  years  previously,  "  vacan- 
tem  insulam  ob  nimictatem  squaloris,  et  inaccessam  venenatorum 
animalium  metu."  Histor.  Pelag.  p.  251.  Why,  however,  may  not 
the  "  villula  "  have  been  built  subsequently  to  Honoratus's  settlement, 
and  indeed,  as  a  part  of  it?  Whether  Vincentius  was  an  inmate  of 
the  monastery  of  Lerins  at  the  time  of  writing  the  Commonitory  or 
not,  he  was  so  eventually,  and  died  there. 

7  Ps.  xlvi.  10. 

3[ 


132 


VINCENT    OF    LERINS. 


shall  by  no  means  touch  upon  everything  that 
might  be  said,  but  only  upon  what  is  neces- 
sary; nor  yet  in  an  ornate  and  exact  style,  but 
in  simple  and  ordinary  language,1  so  that  the 
most  part  may  seem  to  be  intimated,  rather 
than  set  forth  in  detail.  Let  those  cultivate 
elegance  and  exactness  who  are  confident  of 
their  ability  or  are  moved  by  a  sense  of  duty. 
For  me  it  will  be  enough  to  have  provided  a 
Commonitory  (or  Remembrancer)  for  myself, 
such  as  may  aid  my  memory,  or  rather,  pro- 
vide against  my  forgetfulness :  which  same 
Commonitory  however,  I  shall  endeavor,  the 
Lord  helping  me,  to  amend  and  make  more 
complete  by  little  and  little,  day  by  day,  by 
recalling  to  mind  what  I  have  learnt.  I  men- 
tion this  at  the  outset,  that  if  by  chance  what 
I  write  should  slip  out  of  my  possession  and 
come  into  the  hands  of  holy  men,  they  may  for- 
bear to  blame  anything  therein  hastily,  when 
they  see  that  there  is  a  promise  that  it  will  yet 
be  amended  and  made  more  complete. 


CHAPTER   II. 

A  General  Rule  for  distinguishing  the  Truth  of  the  Catholic 
Faith  from  the  Falsehood  of  Heretical  Pravity. 

[4.]  I  have  often  then  inquired  earn- 
estly and  attentively  of  very  many  men 
eminent  for  sanctity  and  learning,  how  and 
by  what  sure  and  so  to  speak  universal  rule 
I  may  be  able  to  distinguish  the  truth  of 
Catholic  faith  from  the  falsehood  of  heretical 
pravity;  and  I  have  always,  and  in  almost 
every  instance,  received  an  answer  to  this 
effect :  That  whether  I  or  any  one  else  should 
wish  to  detect  the  frauds  and  avoid  the  snares 
of  heretics  as  they  rise,  and  to  continue  sound 
and  complete  in  the  Catholic  faith,  we  must, 
the  Lord  helping,  fortify  our  own  belief  in 
two  ways;  first,  by  the  authority  of  the  Divine 
Law,  and  then,  by  the  Tradition  of  the  Catholic 
Church. 

[5.]  But  here  some  one  perhaps  will  ask, 
Since  the  canon  of  Scripture  is  complete,  and 
sufficient  of  itself  for  everything,  and  more 
than  sufficient,  what  need  is  there  to  join  with 
it  the  authority  of  the  Church's  interpretation? 
For  this  reason,  — because,  owing  to  the  depth 
of  Holy  Scripture,  all  do  not  accept  it  in  one 
and  the  same  sense,  but  one  understands  its 
words  in  one  way,  another  in  another;  so  that 
it  seems  to  be  capable  of  as  many  interpreta- 
tions as  there  are  interpreters.  For  Novatian 
expounds  it  one  way,  Sabellius  another,  Dona- 
tus   another,    Arius,    Eunomius,   Macedonius, 


1  "  II  dit  qu'il  l'a  voulu  £crire  d'un  style  facile  et  commun,  sans  le 
vouloir  orner  et  polir;  et  je  voudrois  que  les  ouvrages  qu'on  a  pris  le 
plus  de  peine  a  polir  dans  ce  siecle  (le  4me)  et  dans  le  suivant,  ressem- 
blassent  a  celui-ci."  —  TiLUmont,  T.  xv.  p.  144. 


another,  Photinus,  Apollinaris,  Priscillian,  an- 
other, Iovinian,  Pelagius,  Celestius,  another, 
lastly,  Nestorius  another.  Therefore,  it  is  very 
necessary,  on  account  of  so  great  intricacies 
of  such  various  error,  that  the  rule  for  the 
right  understanding  of  the  prophets  and  apos- 
tles should  be  framed  in  accordance  with 
the  standard  of  Ecclesiastical  and  Catholic 
interpretation. 

[6.]  Moreover,  in  the  Catholic  Church 
itself,  all  possible  care  must  be  taken,  that  we 
hold  that  faith  which  has  been  believed  every- 
where, always,  by  all.  For  that  is  truly  and 
in  the  strictest  sense  "Catholic,"  which,  as 
the  name  itself  and  the  reason  of  the  thing 
declare,  comprehends  all  universally.  This 
rule  we  shall  observe  if  we  follow  universality, 
antiquity,  consent.  We*  shall  follow  univer- 
sality if  we  confess  that  one  faith  to  be  true, 
which  the  whole  Church  throughout  the  world 
confesses;  antiquity,  if  we  in  no  wise  depart 
from  those  interpretations  which  it  is  manifest 
were  notoriously  held  by  our  holy  ancestors 
and  fathers;  consent,  in  like  manner,  if  in 
antiquity  itself  we  adhere  to  the  consentient 
definitions  and  determinations  of  all,  or  at  the 
least  of  almost  all  priests  and  doctors. 


CHAPTER   III. 

What  is  to  be  done  if  one  or  more  dissent  from  the  rest. 

[7.]  What  then  will  a  Catholic  Christian 
do,  if  a  small  portion  of  the  Church  have  cut 
itself  off  from  the  communion  of  the  universal 
faith?  What,  surely,  but  prefer  the  sound- 
ness of  the  whole  body  to  the  unsoundness 
of  a  pestilent  and  corrupt  member?  What, 
if  some  novel  contagion  seek  to  infect  not 
merely  an  insignificant  portion  of  the  Church, 
but  the  whole?  Then  it  will  be  his  care  to 
cleave  to  antiquity,  which  at  this  day  cannot 
possibly  be  seduced  by  any  fraud  of  novelty. 

[8.]  But  what,  if  in  antiquity  itself  there  be 
found  error  on  the  part  of  two  or  three  men, 
or  at  any  rate  of  a  city  or  even  of  a  province  ? 
Then  it  will  be  his  care  by  all  means,  to 
prefer  the  decrees,  if  such  there  be,  of  an 
ancient  General  Council  to  the  rashness  and 
ignorance  of  a  few.  But  what,  if  some  error 
should  spring  up  on  which  no  such  decree  is 
found  to  bear?  Then  he  must  collate  and 
consult  and  interrogate  the  opinions  of  the 
ancients,  of  those,  namely,  who,  though  living 
in  divers  times  and  places,  yet  continuing 
in  the  communion  and  faith  of  the  one 
Catholic  Church,  stand  forth  acknowledged 
and  approved  authorities :  and  whatsoever  he 
shall  ascertain  to  have  been  held,  written, 
taught,  not  by  one  or  two  of  these  only,  but 


A   COMMONITORY. 


133 


by  all,  equally,  with  one  consent,  openly, 
frequently,  persistently,  that  he  must  under- 
stand that  he  himself  also  is  to  believe  with- 
out any  doubt  or  hesitation. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

The  evil  resulting  from  the  bringing  in  of  Novel  Doctrine  shown 
in  the  instances  of  the  Donatists  and  Arians. 

[9.]  But  that  we  may  make  what  we  say 
more  intelligible,  we  must  illustrate  it  by 
individual  examples,  and  enlarge  upon  it 
somewhat  more  fully,  lest  by  aiming  at  too 
great  brevity  important  matters  be  hurried 
over  and  lost  sight  of. 

In  the  time  of  Donatus,1  from  whom  his 
followers  were  called  Donatists,  when  great 
numbers  in  Africa  were  rushing  headlong  into 
their  own  mad  error,  and  unmindful  of  their 
name,  their  religion,  their  profession,  were  pre- 
ferring the  sacrilegious  temerity  of  one  man 
before  the  Church  of  Christ,  then  they  alone 
throughout  Africa  were  safe  within  the  sacred 
precincts  of  the  Catholic  faith,  who,  detest- 
ing the  profane  schism,  continued  in  com- 
munion with  the  universal  Church,  leaving  to 
posterity  an  illustrious  example,  how,  and 
how  well  in  future  the  soundness  of  the  whole 
body  should  be  preferred  before  the  madness 
of  one,  or  at  most  of  a  few. 

[10.]  So  also  when  the  Arian  poison  had 
infected  not  an  insignificant  portion  of  the 
Church  but  almost  the  whole  world,2  so  that 


1  There  were  two  persons  of  this  name,  both  intimately  connected 
with  the  schism,  —  the  earlier  one,  bishop  of  Casa  Nigra  in  Numidia, 
the  other  the  successor  of  Majorinus,  whom  in  the  year  311  the  party 
had  elected  to  be  bishop  of  Carthage  in  opposition  to  Cecilian,  the 
Catholic  bishop,  the  ground  of  the  opposition  being  that  the  princi- 
pal timong  Cecilian's  consecrators  lay  under  the  charge  of  having 
delivered  up  the  sacred  books  to  the  heathen  magistrates  in  the 
Dioclesian  persecution,  and  of  having  thereby  rendered  his  ministerial 
acts  invalid.  It  was  from  the  last-mentioned  probably  that  the  sect 
was  called. 

The  Donatists  affected  great  strictness  of  life,  and  ignoring  the 
plain  declarations  of  Scripture,  and  notably  the  prophetic  representa- 
tions contained  in  our  Lord's  parables  of  the  Tares,  the  Draw-net,  and 
others,  they  held  that  no  church  could  be  a  true  church  which  endured 
the  presence  of  evil  men  in  its  society.  Accordingly  they  broke  off 
communion  with  the  rest  of  the  African  Church  and  with  all  who 
held  communion  with  it,  which  was  in  effect  the  rest  of  Christendom, 
denying  the  validity  of  their  sacraments,  rebaptizing  those  who  came 
over  to  them  from  other  Christian  bodies,  and  reordaming  their  clergy. 
The  sect  became  so  powerful  that  for  some  time  it  formed  the 
stronger  party  in  the  church  of  North  Western  Africa,  its  bishops 
exceeding  four  hundred  in  number;  but  partly  checked  through  the 
exertions  of  Augustine  in  the  first  years  of  the  fifth  century,  and  of 
Pope  Gregory  the  Great  at  the  close  of  the  sixth,  and  partly  weakened 
by  divisions  among  themselves,  they  dwindled  away  and  became 
extinct. 

2  The  rise  of  Arianism  was  nearly  contemporaneous  with  that  of 
Donatism.  It  originated  with  Arius,  a  presbyter  of  Alexandria,  a  man 
of  a  subtle  wit  and  a  fluent  tongue.  He  began  by  calling  in  question 
the  teaching  of  his  bishop,  when  discoursing  on  a  certain  occasion 
on  the  subject  of  the  Trinity.  For  himself  he  denied  our  blessed 
Lord's  coeternity  and  consubstantiality  with  the  Father,  which  was  in 
effect  to  deny  that  He  is  God  in  any  true  sense,  though  he  made  no 
scruple  of  giving  Him  the  name.  His  doctrine  may  be  best  inferred 
from  the  anathema  directed  against  it,  appended  to  the  original 
Nicene  Creed:  "Those  who  say,  that  once  the  Son  of  God  did  not 
exist,  and  that  before  He  was  begotten  He  did  not  exist,  or  who 
affirm  that  He  is  of  a  different  substance  or  essence  (from  that  of  the 
Father),  or  that  His  nature  is  mutable  or  alterable,  those  the  Catholic 
and  Apostolic  Church  anathematises." 


a  sort  of  blindness  had  fallen  upon  almost  all 
the  bishops 3  of  the  Latin  tongue,  circum- 
vented partly  by  force  partly  by  fraud,  and 
was  preventing  them  from  seeing  what  was 
most  expedient  to  be  done  in  the  midst  of  so 
much  confusion,  then  whoever  was  a  true 
lover  and  worshipper  of  Christ,  preferring  the 
ancient  belief  to  the  novel  misbelief,  escaped 
the  pestilent  infection. 

[n.]  By  the  peril  of  which  time  was 
abundantly  shown  how  great  a  calamity  the 
introduction  of  a  novel  doctrine  causes.  For 
then  truly  not  only  interests  of  small  account, 
but  others  of  the  very  gravest  importance,  were 
subverted.  For  not  only  affinities,  relation- 
ships, friendships,  families,  but  moreover, 
cities,  peoples,  provinces,  nations,  at  last 
the  whole  Roman  Empire,  were  shaken  to 
their  foundation  and  ruined. 

For  when  this  same  profane  Arian  novelty, 
like  a  Bellona  or  a  Fury,  had  first  taken 
captive  the  Emperor,4  and  had  then  subjected 
all  the  principal  persons  of  the  palace  to  new 
laws,  from  that  time  it  never  ceased  to  involve 
everything  in  confusion,  disturbing  all  things, 
public  and  private,  sacred  and  profane,  pay- 
ing no  regard  to  what  was  good  and  true,  but, 
as  though  holding  a  position  of  authority, 
smiting  whomsoever  it  pleased.  Then  wives 
were  violated,  widows  ravished,  virgins  pro- 
faned, monasteries  demolished,  clergymen 
ejected,  the  inferior  clergy  scourged,  priests 
driven  into  exile,  jails,  prisons,  mines,  filled 
with  saints,  of  whom  the  greater  part,  for- 
bidden to  enter  into  cities,  thrust  forth  from 
their  homes  to  wander  in  deserts  and  caves, 
among  rocks  and  the  haunts  of  wild  beasts, 
exposed  to  nakedness,  hunger,  thirst,  were 
worn  out  and  consumed.  Of  all  of  which 
was  there  any  other  cause  than  that,  while 


Arianism  spread  with  great  rapidity;  and  though  condemned  by 
the  Council  of  Nicaea  in  325,  it  gained  fresh  strength  on  the  death 
of  Constantine  and  the  accession  of  Constantms,  so  that  for  many 
years  thenceforward  the  history  of  the  Church  is  occupied  with  noth- 
ing so  much  as  with  accounts  of  its  struggle  for  supremacy. 

"  Arians  and  Donatists  began  both  about  one  time,  which  heresies, 
according  to  the  different  strength  of  their  own  sinews,  wrought,  as 
the  hope  of  success  led  them,  the  one  with  the  choicest  wits,  the 
other  with  the  multitude,  so  far,  that  after  long  and  troublesome 
experience,  the  perfectest  view  that  men  could  take  of  both  was 
hardly  able  to  induce  any  certain  determinate  resolution,  whether 
error  may  do  more  by  the  curious  subtlety  of  sharp  discourse,  or  else 
by  the  mere  appearance  of  zeal  and  devout  affection."  —  Hooker, 
Eccles.  Pol.  v.  62.  §  8. 

3  The  Catholic  bishops,  in  number  more  than  four  hundred,  who 
at  Ariminum,  in  359,  after  having  subscribed  the  Creed  of  Nica;a, 
were  induced,  partly  by  fraud,  partly  by  threats,  to  repudiate  its 
crucial  terms  and  sign  an  Arian  Formulary.  It  was  in  reference  to 
this  that  St.  Jerome  wrote,  "  lngemuit  orbis,  et  Arium  seesse  miratus 
est."  "  The  world  groaned  and  marvelled  to  find  itself  Arian."  He 
continues,  "  The  vessel  of  the  apostles  was  in  extreme  danger.  The 
storm  raged,  the  waves  beat  upon  the  ship,  all  hope  was  gone.  The 
Lord  awakes,  rebukes  the  tempest,  the  monster  (Constantius)  dies, 
tranquillity  is  restored.  The  bishops  who  had  been  thrust  out  from 
their  sees  return,  through  the  clemency  of  the  new  emperor.  Then 
did  Egypt  receive  Athanasius  in  triumph,  then  did  the  Church  of 
Gaul  receive  Hilary  returning  from  battle,  then  did  Italy  put  off  her 
mourning  garments  at  the  return  of  Eusebius(of  Vercellsj." — Advers. 
Luciferianos,  §  10. 

4  Constantius,  the  Emperor  of  the  West. 


134 


VINCENT    OF    LERINS. 


human  superstitions  are  being  brought  in  to 
supplant  heavenly  doctrine,  while  well  estab- 
lished antiquity  is  being  subverted  by  wicked 
novelty,  while  the  institutions  of  former  ages 
are  being  set  at  naught,  while  the  decrees  of 
our  fathers  are  being  rescinded,  while  the  de- 
terminations of  our  ancestors  are  being  torn  in 
pieces,  the  lust  of  profane  and  novel  curiosity 
refuses  to  restrict  itself  within  the  most 
chaste  limits  of  hallowed  and  uncorrupt 
antiquity?  : 

CHAPTER   V. 

The   Example  set   us  by  the   Martyrs,  whom  no  force  could 
hinder  from  defending  the  Faith  of  their  Predecessors. 

[12.]  But  it  may  be,  we  invent  these 
charges  out  of  hatred  to  novelty  and  zeal  for 
antiquity.  Whoever  is  disposed  to  listen  to 
such  an  insinuation,  let  him  at  least  believe 
the  blessed  Ambrose,  who,  deploring  the  acer- 
bity of  the  time,  says,  in  the  second  book  of 
his  work  addressed  to  the  Emperor  Gratian :  - 
"Enough  now,  O  God  Almighty!  have  we 
expiated  with  our  own  ruin,  with  our  own 
blood,  the  slaughter  of  Confessors,  the  banish- 
ment of  priests,  and  the  wickedness  of  such 
extreme  impiety.  It  is  clear,  beyond  ques- 
tion, that  they  who  have  violated  the  faith 
cannot  remain  in  safety." 

And  again  in  the  third  book  of  the  same 
work,3  "Let  us  observe  the  precepts  of  our 
predecessors,  and  not  transgress  with  rude 
rashness  the  landmarks  which  we  have  in- 
herited from  them.  That  sealed  Book  of 
Prophecy  no  Elders,  no  Powers,  no  Angels, 
no  Archangels,  dared  to  open.  To  Christ 
alone  was  reserved  the  prerogative  of  explain- 
ing it.4  Who  of  us  may  dare  to  unseal  the 
Sacerdotal  Book  sealed  by  Confessors,  and 
consecrated  already  by  the  martyrdom  of 
numbers,  which  they  who  had  been  compelled 
by  force  to  unseal  afterwards  resealed,  con- 
demning the  fraud  which  had  been  practised 

1  Though  Vincentius'  account  of  the  Arian  persecutions  refers  to 
those  under  the  Arian  emperors,  Constantius  and  Valens,  the  former 
especially,  yet  he  could  not  but  have  had  in  mind  the  atrocious  cruel- 
ties which  were  being  perpetrated,  at  the  time  when  he  was  writing, 
by  the  Arian  Vandals  in  Africa.  Possidius,  in  his  life  of  St.  Augustine, 
who  lay  on  his  death-bed  in  Hippo  while  the  fierce  Vandal  host  was 
encamped  round  the  city  (c.  xxviii.),  gives  a  detailed  account  of  them, 
belonging  to  a  date  some  four  years  earlier,  entirely  of  a  piece  with 
Vincentius'  description  in  the  text.  Victor,  bishop  of  Vite,  himself  a 
sufferer,  has  left  a  still  ampler  relation,  De  Persecutione  Vandalorum. 

2  St.  Ambrose.  De  Fide,  1.  2,  c.  15,  §  141.  See  also  St.  Jerome 
adv.  Luciferianos,  §  19. 

3  Ibid.  1.  3,  §  128,  St.  Ambrose  speaks  of  the  Gothic  war  as  a 
judgment  upon  Valens,  both  for  his  Arianism  and  for  his  persecution 
of  the  Catholics.  He  had  permitted  the  Goths  to  cross  the  Danube, 
and  settle  in  Thrace  and  the  adjoining  parts,  with  the  understanding 
that  they  should  embrace  Christianity  in  its  Arian  form.  They  had 
now  turned  against  him,  and  Gratian  was  on  the  eve  of  setting  out 
to  carry  aid  to  him.  St.  Ambrose's  book,  De  Fide,  was  written  to 
confirm  Gratian  in  the  Catholic  faith,  in  view  especiallv  of  the  Arian 
influence  to  which  he  might  be  subjected  in  his  intercourse  with 
Valens.  Valens  was  killed  the  following  year,  378,  at  the  battle  of 
Adrianople. 

4  Rev.  v.  1-;. 


upon  them ;  while  they  who  had  not  ventured 
to  tamper  with  it  proved  themselves  Con- 
fessors and  martyrs  ?  How  can  we  deny  the 
faith  of  those  whose  victory  we  proclaim? " 

[13.]  We  proclaim  it  truly,  O  venerable 
Ambrose,  we  proclaim  it,  and  applaud  and 
admire.  For  who  is  there  so  demented,  who, 
though  not  able  to  overtake,  does  not  at  least 
earnestly  desire  to  follow  those  whom  no 
force  could  deter  from  defending  the  faith  of 
their  ancestors,  no  threats,  no  blandishments, 
not  life,  not  death,  not  the  palace,  not  the 
Imperial  Guards,  not  the  Emperor,  not  the 
empire  itself,  not  men,  not  demons  ?  —  whom, 
I  say,  as  a  recompense  for  their  steadfastness 
in  adhering  to  religious  antiquity,  the  Lord 
counted  worthy  of  so  great  a  reward,  that  by 
their  instrumentality  He  restored  churches 
which  had  been  destroyed,  quickened  with 
new  life  peoples  who  were  spiritually  dead, 
replaced  on  the  heads  of  priests  the  crowns 
which  had  been  torn  from  them,  washed  out 
those  abominable,  I  will  not  say  letters,  but 
blotches  ()ion  literas,  sed  lituras)  of  novel  impi- 
ety, with  a  fountain  of  believing  tears,  which 
God  opened  in  the  hearts  of  the  bishops  ?  — 
lastly,  when  almost  the  whole  world  was  over- 
whelmed by  a  ruthless  tempest  of  unlooked 
for  heresy,  recalled  it  from  novel  misbelief  to 
the  ancient  faith,  from  the  madness  of  novelty 
to  the  soundness  of  antiquity,  from  the  blind- 
ness of  novelty  to  pristine  light? 

[14.]  But  in  this  divine  virtue,  as  we  may 
call  it,  exhibited  by  these  Confessors,  we  must 
note  especially  that  the  defence  which  they 
then  undertook  in  appealing  to  the  Ancient 
Church,  was  the  defence,  not  of  a  part,  but  of 
the  whole  body.  For  it  was  not  right  that 
men  of  such  eminence  should  uphold  with  so 
huge  an  effort  the  vague  and  conflicting 
notions  of  one  or  two  men,  or  should  exert 
themselves  in  the  defence  of  some  ill-advised 
combination  of  some  petty  province;  but 
adhering  to  the  decrees  and  definitions  of  the 
universal  priesthood  of  Holy  Church,  the 
heirs  of  Apostolic  and  Catholic  truth,  they 
chose  rather  to  deliver  up  themselves  than  to 
betray  the  faith  of  universality  and  antiquity. 
For  which  cause  they  were  deemed  worthy  of 
so  great  glory  as  not  only  to  be  accounted 
Confessors,  but  rightly  and  deservedly  to  be 
accounted  foremost  among  Confessors. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

The  example   of  Pope   Stephen  in  resisting  the  Iteration  of 
Baptism. 

[15.]  Great  then  is  the  example  of  these 
same  blessed  men,  an  example  plainly  divine, 
and  worthy  to  be  called  to  mind,  and  medi- 


A   COMMONITORY. 


J35 


tated  upon  continually  by  every  true  Catho- 
lic, who,  like  the  seven-branched  candlestick, 
shining  with  the  sevenfold  light  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  showed  to  posterity  how  thenceforward 
the  audaciousness  of  profane  novelty,  in  all 
the  several  rantings  of  error,  might  be  crushed 
by  the  authority  of  hallowed  antiquity. 

Nor  is  there  anything  new  in  this?  For 
it  has  always  been  the  case  in  the  Church, 
that  the  more  a  man  is  under  the  influ- 
ence of  religion,  so  much  the  more  prompt 
is  he  to  oppose  innovations.  Examples  there 
are  without  number:  but  to  be  brief,  we 
will  take  one,  and  that,  in  preference  to 
others,  from  the  Apostolic  See,1  so  that  it 
may  be  clearer  than  day  to  every  one  with 
how  great  energy,  with  how  great  zeal,  with 
how  great  earnestness,  the  blessed  successors 
of  the  blessed  apostles  have  constantly  de- 
fended the  integrity  of  the  religion  which 
they  have  once  received. 

[16.]  Once  on  a  time  then,  Agrippinus,2 
bishop  of  Carthage,  of  venerable  memory, 
held  the  doctrine  —  and  he  was  the  first  who 
held  it  —  that  Baptism  ought  to  be  repeated, 
contrary  to  the  divine  canon,  contrary  to  the 
rule  of  the  universal  Church,  contrary  to  the 
customs  and  institutions  of  our  ancestors. 
This  innovation  drew  after  it  such  an  amount 
of  evil,  that  it  not  only  gave  an  example  of 
sacrilege  to  heretics  of  all  sorts,  but  proved 
an  occasion  of  error  to  certain  Catholics 
even. 

When  then  all  men  protested  against  the 
novelty,  and  the  priesthood  everywhere,  each 
as  his  zeal  prompted  him,  opposed  it,  Pope 
Stephen  of  blessed  memory,  Prelate  of  the 
Apostolic  See,  in  conjunction  indeed  with  his 
colleagues  but  yet  himself  the  foremost,  with- 
stood it,  thinking  it  right,  I  doubt  not,  that 
as  he  exceeded  all  others  in  the  authority  of 
his  place,  so  he  should  also  in  the  devotion 
of  his  faith.  In  fine,  in  an  epistle  sent  at 
the  time  to  Africa,  he  laid  down  this  rule : 
"Let  there  be  no  innovation — nothing  but 
what   has   been   handed   down."3       For   that 


1  "  The  Apostolic  see "  (Sedes  Apostolica)  here  means  Rome 
of  course.  But  the  title  was  not  restricted  to  Rome.  It  was  com- 
mon to  all  sees  which  could  claim  an  apostle  as  their  Founder. 
Thus  St.  Augustine,  suggesting  a  rule  for  determining  what  books  are 
to  be  regarded  as  Canonical,  says,  "  In  Canonicis  Scripturis  Eccle- 
siarum  Catholicarum  quamplurium  auctoritatem  sequatur,  inter  quas 
sane  ilia?  sint  quas  Apostolicas  Sedes  habere  et  Epistolas  accipere 
meruerunt."_  "Let  him  follow  the  authority  of  those  Catholic 
Churches  which  have  been  counted  worthy  to  have  Apostolic  Sees; 
i.e.,  to  have  been  founded  by  Apostles,  and  to  have  been  the  recipi- 
ents of  Apostolic  Epistles."  —  De  Doctr.  Christiana,  II.  §  13.  But 
the  title,  even  in  St.  Augustine's  time,  had  even  a  wider  meaning. 

'  Anciently  every  bishop's  see  was  dignified  with  the  title  of  Sedes 
Apostolica,  which  in  those  days  was  no  peculiar  title  of  the  bishop 
of  Rome,  but  given  to  all  bishops  in  general,  as  deriving  their 
origin  and  counting  their  succession  from  the  apostles."  —  Bingham, 
Antiq.  II.,  c.  2,  §  3. 

2  Agrippinus.     See  note  4,  below. 

8  Stephen's  letter  has  not  come  down  to  us,  happily  perhaps  for 


holy  and  prudent  man  well  knew  that  true 
piety  admits  no  other  rule  than  that  whatso- 
ever things  have  been  faithfully  received 
from  our  fathers  the  same  are  to  be  faithfully 
consigned  to  our  children;  and  that  it  is  our 
duty,  not  ito  lead  religion  whither  we  would, 
but  rather  to  follow  religion  whither  it  leads; 
and  that  it  is  the  part  of  Christian  modesty 
and  gravity  not  to  hand  down  our  own  beliefs 
or  observances  to  those  who  come  after  us, 
but  to  preserve  and  keep  what  we  have 
received  from  those  who  went  before  us. 
What  then  was  the  issue  of  the  whole  matter? 
What  but  the  usual  and  customary  one? 
Antiquity  was  retained,  novelty  was  rejected. 

[17.]  But  it  may  be,  the  cause  of  innovation 
at  that  time  lacked  patronage.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  had  in  its  favor  such  powerful  talent, 
such  copious  eloquence,  such  a  number  of 
partisans,  so  much  resemblance  to  truth,  such 
weighty  support  in  Scripture  (only  interpreted 
in  a  novel  and  perverse  sense),  that  it  seems 
to  me  that  that  whole  conspiracy  could  not 
possibly  have  been  defeated,  unless  the  sole 
cause  of  this  extraordinary  stir,  the  very 
novelty  of  what  was  so  undertaken,  so  de- 
fended, so  belauded,  had  proved  wanting  to 
it.  In  the  end,  what  result,  under  God, 
had  that  same  African  Council  or  decree?4 
None  whatever.  The  whole  affair,  as  though 
a  dream,  a  fable,  a  thing  of  no  possible 
account,  was  annulled,  cancelled,  and  trodden 
underfoot. 

[18.]  And  O  marvellous  revolution!  The 
authors  of  this  same  doctrine  are  judged 
Catholics,  the  followers  heretics;  the  teachers 
are  absolved,  the  disciples  condemned;  the 
writers  of  the  books  will  be  children  of  the 
Kingdom,  the  defenders  of  them  will  have 
their  portion  in  Hell.  For  who  is  so  de- 
mented as  to  doubt  that  that  blessed  light 
among  all  holy  bishops  and  martyrs,  Cyprian, 
together  with  the  rest  of  his  colleagues,  will 
reign  with  Christ;  or,  who  on  the  other 
hand  so  sacrilegious  as  to  deny  that  the 
Donatists  and  those  other  pests,  who  boast 
the  authority  of  that  council  for  their  iteration 
of  baptism,  will  be  consigned  to  eternal  fire 
with  the  devil? 5 


his  credit,  judging  by  the  terms  in  which  Cyprian  speaks  of  it  in  the 
letter  in  which  he  quotes  the  passage  in  the  text.  —  Ad  Pompeian, 
Ep.  74. 

4  The  Council  held  under  the  presidency  of  Cyprian  in  256.  Its 
acts  are  contained  in  Cyprian's  works,  Ed.  Fell.  pp.  15S,  etc.  An 
earlier  council  had  been  held  in  the  same  city  in  the  beginning  of  the 
century  under  Agrippinus.  Both  had  affirmed  the  necessity  of 
rebaptizing  heretics,  or,  as  they  would  rather  have  said,  of  baptizing 
them.  The  controversy  was  set  at  rest  by  a  decision  of  the  council 
of  Aries,  in  314,  which  ordered,  in  its  Eighth  Canon,  that  if  the  bap- 
tism had  been  administered  in  the  name  of  the  Trinity,  converts 
should  be  admitted  simply  by  the  imposition  of  hands  that  they  might 
receive  the  Holy  Ghost. 

s  See  Hooker's  reference  to  this  passage.  — Eccles.  Pol.  v,  62,  §  9. 


136 


VINCENT    OF    LERINS. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

How    Heretics,    craftily   cite    obscure    passages    in    ancient 
writers  in  support  of  their  own  novelties. 

[19.]  This  condemnation,  indeed,1  seems 
to  have  been  providentially  promulgated  as 
though  with  a  special  view  to  the  fraud  of  those 
who,  contriving  to  dress  up  a  heresy  under  a 
name  other  than  its  own,  get  hold  often  of  the 
works  of  some  ancient  writer,  not  very  clearly 
expressed,  which,  owing  to  the  very  obscurity 
of  their  own  doctrine,  have  the  appearance  of 
agreeing  with  it,  so  that  they  get  the  credit 
of  being  neither  the  first  nor  the  only  persons 
who  have  held  it.  This  wickedness  of  theirs, 
in  my  judgment,  is  doubly  hateful:  first, 
because  they  are  not  afraid  to  invite  others  to 
drink  of  the  poison  of  heresy;  and  secondly, 
because  with  profane  breath,  as  though  fanning 
smouldering  embers  into  flame,  they  blow  upon 
the  memory  of  each  holy  man,  and  spread  an 
evil  report  of  what  ought  to  be  buried  in  silence 
by  bringing  it  again  under  notice,  thus  tread- 
ing in  the  footsteps  of  their  father  Ham,  who 
not  only  forebore  to  cover  the  nakedness 
of  the  venerable  Noah,  but  told  it  to  the 
others  that  they  might  laugh  at  it,  offend- 
jng  thereby  so  grievously  against  the  duty  of 
filial  piety,  that  even  his  descendants  were 
involved  with  him  in  the  curse  which  he  drew 
down,  widely  differing  from  those  blessed 
brothers  of  his,  who  would  neither  pollute 
their  own  eyes  by  looking  upon  the  nakedness 
of  their  revered  father,  nor  would  suffer  others 
to  do  so,  but  went  backwards,  as  the  Scrip- 
ture says,  and  covered  him,  that  is,  they  neither 
approved  nor  betrayed  the  fault  of  the  holy 
man,  for  which  cause  they  were  rewarded 
with  a  benediction  on  themselves  and  their 
posterity.2 

[20.]  But  to  return  to  the  matter  in  hand: 
It  behoves  us  then  to  have  a  great  dread  of 
the  crime  of  perverting  the  faith  and  adulter- 
ating religion,  a  crime  from  which  we  are 
deterred  not  only  by  the  Church's  discipline, 
but  also  by  the  censure  of  apostolical  author- 
ity. For  every  one  knows  how  gravely,  how 
severely,  how  vehemently,  the  blessed  apostle 
Paul  inveighs  against  certain,  who,  with  mar- 
vellous levity,  had  "  been  so  soon  removed  from 
him  who  had  called  them  to  the  grace  of  Christ 
to  another  Gospel,  which  was  not  another;"3 
"who  had  heaped  to  themselves  teachers 
after  their  own  lusts,  turning  away  their  ears 
from  the  truth,  and  being  turned  aside  unto 
fables ; "  4  "  having   damnation   because   they 


1  Tlie  condemnation  of  St.  Cyprian's  practice  of  rebaptism. 

2  Gen.  ix.  22. 

3  Gal.  1.  6. 


had  cast  off  their  first  faith ;  "  5  who  had 
been  deceived  by  those  of  whom  the  same 
apostle  writes  to  the  Roman  Christians, 
"Now,  I  beseech  you,  brethren,  mark  them 
which  cause  divisions  and  offences,  contrary 
to  the  doctrine  which  ye  have  learned,  and 
avoid  them.  For  they  that  are  such  serve 
not  the  Lord  Christ,  but  their  own  belly,  and 
by  good  words  and  fair  speeches  deceive  the 
hearts  of  the  simple;"6  "who  enter  into 
houses,  and  lead  captive  silly  women  laden 
with  sins,  led  away  with  diverse  lusts,  ever 
learning  and  never  able  to  come  to  the  know- 
ledge of  the  truth;"7  "vain  talkers  and 
deceivers,  who  subvert  whole  houses,  teaching 
things  which  they  ought  not,  for  filthy  lucre's 
sake ;  "  8  "  men  of  corrupt  minds,  reprobate 
concerning  the  faith ;  "  e  "  proud  knowing 
nothing,  but  doting  about  questions  and  strifes 
of  words,  destitute  of  the  truth,  supposing 
that  godliness  is  gain,"  10  "withal  learning  to 
be  idle,  wandering  about  from  house  to  house, 
and  not  only  idle,  but  tattlers  also  and  busy- 
bodies,  speaking  things  which  they  ought 
not,"  u  "who  having  put  away  a  good  con- 
science have  made  shipwreck  concerning  the 
faith;"12  "whose  profane  and  vain  babblings 
increase  unto  more  ungodliness,  and  their 
word  doth  eat  as  doth  a  cancer."13  Well, 
also,  is  it  written  of  them:  "But  they  shall 
proceed  no  further:  for  their  folly  shall  be 
manifest  unto  all  men,  as  their's  also  was."14 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Exposition  of  St.  Paul's  Words,  Gal.  i.  8. 

[21.]  When  therefore  certain  of  this  sort 
wandering  about  provinces  and  cities,  and 
carrying  with  them  their  venal  errors,  had 
found  their  way  to  Galatia,  and  when  the 
Galatians,  on  hearing  them,  nauseating  the 
truth,  and  vomiting  up  the  manna  of  Apos- 
tolic and  Catholic  doctrine,  were  delighted 
with  the  garbage  of  heretical  novelty,  the 
apostle  putting  in  exercise  the  authority  of 
his  office,  delivered  his  sentence  with  the 
utmost  severity,  "Though  we,"  he  says,  "or 
an  angel  from  heaven,  preach  any  other  Gospel 
unto  you  than  that  which  we  have  preached 
unto  you,  let  him  be  accursed."15 

[22.]  Why  does  he  say  "Though  we"? 
why  not  rather  "  though  I "  ?  He  means, 
"though  Peter,  though  Andrew,  though  John, 


4  2  Tim.  iv.  3,  4. 

5  i  Tim.  v.  12. 

6  Rom.  xvi.  17,  iS 

7  2  Tim.  iii.  6. 

8  Tit.  i.  10. 

0  2  Tim.  iii.  S. 


10  1  Tim.  vi.  4. 

11  1  Tim.  v.  13. 

12  i  Tim.  i.  19. 

13  2  Tim.  ii.  16,  17. 

14  2  Tim.  iii.  9. 

15  Gal.  i.  8. 


A    COMMONITORY. 


137 


in  a  word,  though  the  whole  company  of 
apostles,  preach  unto  you  other  than  we  have 
preached  unto  you,  let  him  be  accursed." 
Tremendous  severity!  He  spares  neither 
himself  nor  his  fellow  apostles,  so  he  may 
preserve  unaltered  the  faith  which  was  at  first 
delivered.  Nay,  this  is  not  all.  He  goes  on: 
"  Even  though  an  angel  from  heaven  preach 
unto  you  any  other  Gospel  than  that  which 
we  have  preached  unto  you,  let  him  be 
accursed."  It  was  not  enough  for  the  preser- 
vation of  the  faith  once  delivered  to  have 
referred  to  man;  he  must  needs  comprehend 
angels  also.  "Though  we,"  he  says,  "or  an 
angel  from  heaven."  Not  that  the  holy 
angels  of  heaven  are  now  capable  of  sinning. 
But  what  he  means  is :  Even  if  that  were  to 
happen  which  cannot  happen, —  if  any  one,  be 
he  who  he  may,  attempt  to  alter  the  faith 
once  for  all  delivered,  let  him  be  accursed. 

[23.]  But  it  may  be,  he  spoke  thus  in  the 
first  instance  inconsiderately,  giving  vent  to 
human  impetuosity  rather  than  expressing 
himself  under  divine  guidance.  Far  from 
it.  He  follows  up  what  he  had  said,  and 
urges  it  with  intense  reiterated  earnestness, 
"As  we  said  before,  so  say  I  now  again,  If 
any  man  preach  any  other  Gospel  to  you 
than  that  ye  have  received,  let  him  be 
accursed."  He  does  not  say,  "If  any  man 
deliver  to  you  another  message  than  that  you 
have  received,  let  him  be  blessed,  praised, 
welcomed,"  —  no;  but  "let  him  be  accursed," 
\anathema\  i.e.,  separated,  segregated,  ex- 
cluded, lest  the  dire  contagion  of  a  single 
sheep  contaminate  the  guiltless  flock  of  Christ 
by  his  poisonous  intermixture  with  them. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

His  warning  to  the  Galatians  a  warning  to  all. 

[24.]  But,  possibly,  this  warning  was 
intended  for  the  Galatians  only.  Be  it  so; 
then  those  other  exhortations  which  follow  in 
the  same  Epistle  were  intended  for  the  Gala- 
tians only,  such  as,  "If  we  live  in  the  Spirit, 
let  us  also  walk  in  the  Spirit;  let  us  not 
be  desirous  of  vain  glory,  provoking  one 
another,  envying  one  another,"  etc.  ; 1  which 
alternative  if  it  be  absurd,  and  the  injunctions 
were  meant  equally  for  all,  then  it  follows, 
that  as  these  injunctions  which  relate  to 
morals,  so  those  warnings  which  relate  to  faith 
are  meant  equally  for  all;  and  just  as  it  is 
unlawful  for  all  to  provoke  one  another,  or  to 
envy  one  another,  so,  likewise,  it  is  unlawful 


for  all  to  receive  any  other  Gospel  than  that 
which  the  Catholic  Church  preaches  every- 
where. 

[25.]  Or  perhaps  the  anathema  pronounced 
on  any  one  who  should  preach  another  Gospel 
than  that  which  had  been  preached  was 
meant  for  those  times,  not  for  the  present. 
Then,  also,  the  exhortation,  "Walk  in  the 
Spirit  and  ye  shall  not  fulfil  the  lust  of  the 
flesh,"2  was  meant  for  those  times,  not  for 
the  present.  But  if  it  be  both  impious  and 
pernicious  to  believe  this,  then  it  follows 
necessarily,  that  as  these  injunctions  are  to  be 
observed  by  all  ages,  so  those  warnings  also 
which  forbid  alteration  of  the  faith  are  warn- 
ings intended  for  all  ages.  To  preach  any  doc- 
trine therefore  to  Catholic  Christians  other 
than  what  they  have  received  never  was  lawful, 
never  is  lawful,  never  will  be  lawful :  and  to 
anathematize  those  who  preach  anything  other 
than  what  has  once  been  received,  always  was 
a  duty,  always  is  a  duty,  always  will  be  a  duty. 

[26.]  Which  being  the  case,  is  there  any 
one  either  so  audacious  as  to  preach  any 
other  doctrine  than  that  which  the  Church 
preaches,  or  so  inconstant  as  to  receive  any 
other  doctrine  than  that  which  he  has  received 
from  the  Church?  That  elect  vessel,  that 
teacher  of  the  Gentiles,  that  trumpet  of  the 
apostles,  that  preacher  whose  commission 
was  to  the  whole  earth,  that  man  who  was 
caught  up  to  heaven,3  cries  and  cries  again  in 
his  Epistles  to  all,  always,  in  all  places,  "If 
any  man  preach  any  new  doctrine,  let  him  be 
accursed."  On  the  other  hand,  an  ephemeral, 
moribund  set  of  frogs,  fleas,  and  flies,  such  as 
the  Pelagians,  call  out  in  opposition,  and 
that  to  Catholics,  "Take  our  word,  follow  our 
lead,  accept  our  exposition,  condemn  what 
you  used  to  hold,  hold  what  you  used  to 
condemn,  cast  aside  the  ancient  faith,  the 
institutes  of  your  fathers,  the  trusts  left  for 
you  by  your  ancestors  and  receive  instead, 
—  what?  I  tremble  to  utter  it:  for  it  is  so  full 
of  arrogance  and  self-conceit,  that  it  seems 
to  me  that  not  only  to  affirm  it,  but  even  to 
refute  it,  cannot  be  done  without  guilt  in 
some  sort. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Why  Eminent  Men  are  permitted  by  God  to  become  Authors 
of  Novelties  in  the  Church. 

[27.]  But  some  one  will  ask,  How  is  it 
then,  that  certain  excellent  persons,  and  of 
position  in  the  Church,  are  often  permitted 
by  God  to  preach  novel  doctrines  to 
Catholics?      A     proper     question,   certainly, 


1  Gal.  v.  25. 


'  Gal.  v.  16. 


3  2  Cor.  xii.  2. 


138 


VINCENT    OF    LERINS. 


and  one  which  ought  to  be  very  carefully 
and  fully  dealt  with,  but  answered  at  the 
same  time,  not  in  reliance  upon  one's  own 
ability,  but  by  the  authority  of  the  divine 
Law,  and  by  appeal  to  the  Church's  deter- 
mination. 

Let  us  listen,  then,  to  Holy  Moses,  and  let 
him  teach  us  why  learned  men,  and  such  as 
because  of  their  knowledge  are  even  called 
Prophets  by  the  apostle,  are  sometimes  per- 
mitted to  put  forth  novel  doctrines,  which  the 
Old  Testament  is  wont,  by  way  of  allegory, 
to  call  "  strange  scods,"  forasmuch  as  heretics 
pay  the  same  sort  of  reverence  to  their  notions 
that  the  Gentiles  do  to  their  gods. 

[28.]  Blessed  Moses,  then,  writes  thus  in 
Deuteronomy :  *  "If  there  arise  among  you  a 
prophet  or  a  dreamer  of  dreams,"  that  is,  one 
holding  office  as  a  Doctor  in  the  Church,  who 
is  believed  by  his  disciples  or  auditors  to 
teach  by  revelation:  well,  — what  follows? 
"and  giveth  thee  a  sign  or  a  wonder,  and  the 
sign  or  the  wonder  come  to  pass  whereof  he 
spake,"  —  he  is  pointing  to  some  eminent 
doctor,  whose  learning  is  such  that  his  fol- 
lowers believe  him  not  only  to  know  things 
human,  but,  moreover,  to  foreknow  things 
superhuman,  such  as,  their  disciples  commonly 
boast,  were  Valentinus,  Donatus,  Photinus, 
Apollinaris,  and  the  rest  of  that  sort!  What 
next?  "And  shall  say  to  thee,  Let  us  go  after 
other  gods,  whom  thou  knowest  not,  and  serve 
them. "  What  are  those  other  gods  but  strange 
errors  which  thou  knowest  not,  that  is,  new 
and  such  as  were  never  heard  of  before  ?  "  And 
let  us  serve  them;"  that  is,  "Let  us  believe 
them,  follow  them."  What  last?  "Thoushalt 
not  hearken  to  the  words  of  that  prophet  or 
dreamer  of  dreams."  And  why,  I  pray  thee, 
does  not  God  forbid  to  be  taught  what  God 
forbids  to  be  heard?  "For  the  Lord,  your 
God,  trieth  you,  to  know  whether  you  love  Him 
with  all  your  heart  and  with  all  your  soul." 
The  reason  is  clearer  than  day  why  Divine 
Providence  sometimes  permits  certain  doctors 
of  the  Churches  to  preach  new  doctrines  — 
"That  the  Lord  your  God  may  try  you,"  he 
says.  And  assuredly  it  is  a  great  trial  when 
one  whom  thou  believest  to  be  a  prophet,  a 
disciple  of  prophets,  a  doctor  and  defender  of 
the  truth,  whom  thou  hast  folded  to  thy  breast 
with  the  utmost  veneration  and  love,  when 
such  a  one  of  a  sudden  secretly  and  furtively 
brings  in  noxious  errrors,  which  thou  canst 
neither  quickly  detect,  being  held  by  the 
prestige  of  former  authority,  nor  lightly  think 
it  right  to  condemn,  being  prevented  by  affec- 
tion for  thine  old  master. 


1  Deut.  xiii.  1,  etc. 


CHAPTER   XL 

Examples   from   Church    History,   confirming   the   words   of 
Moses,  —  Nestorius,  Photinus,  Apollinaris. 

[29.]  Here,  perhaps,  some  one  will  require 
us  to  illustrate  the  words  of  holy  Moses  by 
examples  from  Church  History.  The  demand 
is  a  fair  one,  nor  shall  it  wait  long  for  satis- 
faction. 

For  to  take  first  a  very  recent  and  very 
plain  case:  what  sort  of  trial,  think  we,  was 
that  which  the  Church  had  experience  of  the 
other  day,  when  that  unhappy  Nestorius,2  all 
at  once  metamorphosed  from  a  sheep  into  a 
wolf,  began  to  make  havoc  of  the  flock  of 
Christ,  while  as  yet  a  large  proportion  of 
those  whom  he  was  devouring  believed  him 
to  be  a  sheep,  and  consequently  were  the 
more  exposed  to  his  attacks  ?  For  who  would 
readily  suppose  him  to  be  in  error,  who  was 
known  to  have  been  elected  by  the  high  choice 
of  the  Emperor,  and  to  be  held  in  the  greatest 
esteem  by  the  priesthood?  who  would  readily 
suppose  him  to  be  in  error,  who,  greatly 
beloved  by  the  holy  brethren,  and  in  high 
favor  with  the  populace,  expounded  the  Scrip- 
tures in  public  daily,  and  confuted  the 
pestilent  errors  both  of  Jews  and  Heathens? 
Who  could  choose  but  believe  that  his  teach- 
ing was  Orthodox,  his  preaching  Orthodox, 
his  belief  Orthodox,  who,  that  he  might 
open  the  way  to  one  heresy  of  his  own,  was 
zealously  inveighing  against  the  blasphemies 
of  all  heresies?  But  this  was  the  very  thing 
which  Moses  says:  "The  Lord  your  God  doth 
try  you  that  He  may  know  whether  you  love 
Him  or  not." 

[30.]  Leaving  Nestorius,  in  whom  there 
was  always  more  that  men  admired  than  they 
were  profited  by,  more  of  show  than  of  reality, 
whom  natural  ability,  rather  than  divine 
grace,  magnified  for  a  time  in  the  opinion  of 
the  common  people,  let  us  pass  on  to  speak 
of  those  who,-  being  persons  of  great  attain- 
ments and  of  much  industry,  proved  no  small 
trial  to  Catholics.  Such,  for  instance,  was 
Photinus,  in  Pannonia,3  who,  in  the  memory 


2  Nestorius  was  a  native  of  Germanicia,  a  town  in  the  patriarchate 
of  Antioch,  of  which  Church  he  became  a  Presbyter.  On  the  See  of 
Constantinople  becoming  vacant  by  the  death  of  Sisinnius,  the 
Emperor  Theodosius  sent  for  him  and  caused  him  to  be  consecrated 
Archbishop.  He  was  at  first  extremely  popular,  and  so  eloquent  that 
people  said  of  him  (what  was  much  to  be  said  of  a  successor  of 
Chrysostom),  that  there  had  never  before  been  such  a  bishop.  He 
was  condemned  by  the  Council  of  Ephesus,  in  431.  The  emperor, 
after  ordering  him  to  return  to  the  monastery  to  which  he  formally 
belonged,  eventually  banished  him  to  the  great  Oasis,  whence  he 
was  harried  from  place  to  place  till  death  put  an  end  to  his  suffer- 
ings, in  440.     Evagrius,  1.  7. 

3  Photinus,  bishop  of  Sirmium  in  Pannonia,  was  a  native  of 
Galatia,  and  a  disciple  of  Marcellus  of  Ancyra.  Bishop  Pearson  (on 
the  Creed,  Art.  ir)  has  an  elaborate  note,  in  which  he  collects 
together  many  notices  of  him  left  by  the  ancients.  These  agree  with 
Vincentius  in  representing  him  as  a  man  of  extraordinary  abilitv  and 
of  consummate  eloquence.      His  heresy  consisted  in  the  denial  of 


A   COMMONITORY. 


139 


of  our  fathers,  is  said  to  have  been  a  trial 
to  the  Church  of  Sirmium,  where,  when  he 
had  been  raised  to  the  priesthood  with  uni- 
versal approbation,  and  had  discharged  the 
office  for  some  time  as  a  Catholic,  all  of  a 
sudden,  like  that  evil  prophet  or  dreamer  of 
dreams  whom  Moses  refers  to,  he  began  to 
persuade  the  people  whom  God  had  intrusted 
to  his  charge,  to  follow  "strange  gods,"  that 
is,  strange  errors,  which  before  they  knew  not. 
But  there  was  nothing  unusual  in  this:  the 
mischief  of  the  matter  was,  that  for  the  perpe- 
tration of  so  great  wickedness  he  availed 
himself  of  no  ordinary  helps.  For  he 
was  of  great  natural  ability  and  of  powerful 
eloquence,  and  had  a  wealth  of  learning, 
disputing  and  writing  copiously  and  forcibly 
in  both  languages,  as  his  books  which  remain, 
composed  partly  in  Greek,  partly  in  Latin, 
testify.  But  happily  the  sheep  of  Christ 
committed  to  him,  vigilant  and  wary  for  the 
Catholic  faith,  quickly  turned  their  eyes  to 
the  premonitory  words  of  Moses,  and,  though 
admiring  the  eloquence  of  their  prophet  and 
pastor,  were  not  blind  to  the  trial.  For  from 
thenceforward  they  began  to  flee  from  him  as 
a  wolf,  whom  formerly  they  had  followed  as 
the  ram  of  the  flock. 

[31.]  Nor  is  it  only  in  the  instance  of 
Photinus  that  we  learn  the  danger  of  this 
trial  to  the  Church,  and  are  admonished 
withal  of  the  need  of  double  diligence  in 
guarding  the  faith.  Apollinaris1  holds  out  a 
like  warning.  For  he  gave  rise  to  great 
burning  questions  and  sore  peplexities  among 
his  disciples,  the  Church's  authority  drawing 
them  one  way,  their  Master's  influence  the 
opposite;  so  that,  wavering  and  tossed  hither 
and  thither  between  the  two,  they  were  at  a 
loss  what  course  to  take. 

But  perhaps  he  was  a  person  of  no  weight 
of  character.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  so 
eminent  and  so  highly  esteemed  that  his  word 
would  only  too  readily  be  taken  on  whatsoever 
subject.     For  what   could  exceed  his  acute- 


our  blessed  Lord's  divine  nature,  whom  he  regarded  as  man,  and 
nothing  more,  i//i>d{  avd/jvyirns,  and  as  having  had  no  existence 
before  his  birth  of  the  Virgin.  He  was  condemned  in  several  synods, 
the  fifth  of  which,  a  Council  of  the  Western  bishops,  held  at  Sir- 
mium, in  350,  deposed  him.  But  in  spite  of  the  deposition,  so  great 
was  his  popularity,  that  he  could  not  even  yet  be  removed.  The 
following  year  however  he  was  by  another  council,  held  at  the  same 
place,  again  condemned,  and  sent  into  banishment.  He  died  in 
Galatia,  in  377.  See  Cave,  Hist.  Lit.,  who  refers  with  praise  to  a 
learned  dissertation  on  Photinus  by  Larroque. 

1  Apollinaris  the  younger  (a  contemporary  of  Photinus),  bishop 
of  Laodicea  in  Syria,  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  the 
age  in  which  he  lived.  Epiphanius  {Hcsr.  lxxvii.  2),  referring  to  his 
fall  into  heresy,  says  that  when  it  first  began  to  be  spoken  of,  people 
would  hardly  credit  it,  so  great  was  the  estimation  in  which  he  was 
held.  His  heresy,  which  consisted  in  the  denial  of  the  verity  of  our 
Lord's  human  nature,  the  Divine  Word  supplying  the  place  of  the 
rational  soul,  and  in  the  assertion  that  his  flesh  was  not  derived  from 
the  Virgin,  but  was  brought  down  from  heaven,  was  condemned  by 
the  Council  of  Constantinople,  in  381  (Canon  I.).  It  was  in  reference 
to  the  latter  form  of  it  that  the  clause  "of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  the 
Virgin  Mary  "  was  inserted  in  the  Nicene  Creed. 


ness,  his  adroitness,  his  learning?  How 
many  heresies  did  he,  in  many  volumes,  anni- 
hilate! How  many  errors,  hostile  to  the 
faith,  did  he  confute!  A  proof  of  which  is 
that  most  noble  and  vast  work,  of  not  less 
than  thirty  books,  in  which,  with  a  great 
mass  of  arguments,  he  repelled  the  insane 
calumnies  of  Porphyry.2  It  would  take  a 
long  time  to  enumerate  all  his  works,  which 
assuredly  would  have  placed  him  on  a  level 
with  the  very  chief  of  the  Church's  builders, 
if  that  profane  lust  of  heretical  curiosity  had 
not  led  him  to  devise  I  know  not  what  novelty 
which  as  though  through  the  contagion  of  a  sort 
of  leprosy  both  defiled  all  his  labours,  and 
caused  his  teachings  to  be  pronounced  the 
Church's  trial  instead  of  the  Church's  edifi- 
cation. 

CHAPTER   XII. 

A     fuller    account   of    the   Errors    of    Photinus,    Apollinaris 
and    Nestorius. 

[32.]  Here,  possibly,  I  may  be  asked  for 
some  account  of  the  above  mentioned 
heresies;  those,  namely,  of  Nestorius,  Apol- 
linaris, and  Photinus.  This,  indeed,  does 
not  belong  to  the  matter  in  hand:  for  our  ob- 
ject is  not  to  enlarge  upon  the  errors  of  indi- 
viduals, but  to  produce  instances  of  a  few,  in 
whom  the  applicability  of  Moses'  words  may 
be  evidently  and  clearly  seen;  that  is  to 
say,  that  if  at  any  time  some  Master  in 
the  Church,  himself  also  a  prophet  in  inter- 
preting the  mysteries  of  the  prophets,  should 
attempt  to  introduce  some  novel  doctrine 
into  the  Church  of  God,  Divine  Providence 
permits  this  to  happen  in  order  to  try  us.  It 
will  be  useful,  therefore,  by  way  of  digres- 
sion, to  give  a  brief  account  of  the  opin- 
ions of  the  above-named  heretics,  Photinus, 
Apollinaris,  Nestorius. 

[33.]  The  heresy  of  Photinus,  then,  is  as 
follows:  He  says  that  God  is  singular  and 
sole,  and  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  Jews 
regarded  Him.  He  denies  the  completeness 
of  the  Trinity,  and  does  not  believe  that 
there  is  any  Person  of  God  the  Word,  or  any 
Person  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Christ  he  affirms 
to  be  a  mere  man,  whose  original  was  from 
Mary.  Hence  he  insists  with  the  utmost 
obstinacy  that  we  are  to  render  worship  only 
to  the  Person  of  God  the  Father,  and  that  we 
are  to  honour  Christ  as  man  only.  This  is  the 
doctrine  of  Photinus. 

[34.]  Apollinaris,  affecting  to  agree  with  the 
Church  as  to  the  unity  of  the  Trinity,  though 


2  This  work,  of  which  St.  Jerome  speaks  in  high  terms  {de  Viris 
Illiistr.,  c.  104),  has  not  come  down  to  us,  nor  indeed  have  his  other 
writings,  except  in  fragments. 


140 


VINCENT   OF   LERINS. 


not  this  even  with  entire  soundness  of  belief,1 
as  to  the  Incarnation  of  the  Lord,  blas- 
phemes openly.  For  he  says  that  the  flesh 
of  our  Saviour  was  either  altogether  devoid  of 
a  human  soul,  or,  at  all  events,  was  devoid 
of  a  rational  soul.  Moreover,  he  says  that 
this  same  flesh  of  the  Lord  was  not  received 
from  the  flesh  of  the  holy  Virgin  Mary,  but 
came  down  from  heaven  into  the  Virgin ;  and, 
ever  wavering  and  undecided,  he  preaches 
one  while  that  it  was  co-eternal  with  God  the 
Word,  another  that  it  was  made  of  the  divine 
nature  of  the  Word.  For,  denying  that  there 
are  two  substances  in  Christ,  one  divine, 
the  other  human,  one  from  the  Father,  the 
other  from  his  mother,  he  holds  that  the  very 
nature  of  the  Word  was  divided,  as  though 
one  part  of  it  remained  in  God,  the  other  was 
converted  into  flesh :  so  that  whereas  the  truth 
says  that  of  two  substances  there  is  one 
Christ,  he  affirms,  contrary  to  the  truth,  that 
of  the  one  divinity  of  Christ  there  are  become 
two  substances.  This,  then,  is  the  doctrine 
of  Apollinaris. 

[35.]  Nestorius,  whose  disease  is  of  an 
opposite  kind,  while  pretending  that  he  holds 
two  distinct  substances  in  Christ,  brings  in  of 
a  sudden  two  Persons,  and  with  unheard  of 
wickedness  would  have  two  sons  of  God,  two 
Christs,  —  one,  God,  the  other,  man,  one,  be- 
gotten of  his  Father,  the  other,  born  of  his 
mother.  For  which  reason  he  maintains  that 
Saint  Mary  ought  to  be  called,  not  Theotocos 
(the  mother  of  God),  but  Christotocos  (the 
mother  of  Christ),  seeing  that  she  gave  birth 
not  to  the  Christ  who  is  God,  but  to  the 
Christ  who  is  man.  But  if  any  one  supposes 
that  in  his  writings  he  speaks  of  one  Christ, 
and  preaches  one  Person  of  Christ,  let  him 
not  lightly  credit  it.  For  either  this  is  a 
crafty  device,  that  by  means  of  good  he  may 
the  more  easily  persuade  evil,  according  to 
that  of  the  apostle,  "That  which  is  good 
was  made  death  to  me,"2 —  either,  I  say,  he 
craftily  affects  in  some  places  in  his  writ- 
ings to  believe  one  Christ  and  one  Person  of 
Christ,  or  else  he  says  that  after  the  Virgin 
had  brought  forth,  the  two  Persons  were 
united  into  one  Christ,  though  at  the  time  of 
her  conception  or  parturition,  and  for  some 
short  time  afterwards,  there  were  two  Christs ; 
so  that  forsooth,  though  Christ  was  born  at 
first  an  ordinary  man  and  nothing  more,  and 
not  as  yet  associated  in  unity  of  Person  with 
the  Word  of  God,  yet  afterwards  the  Person 
of  the  Word  assuming  descended  upon  Him; 
and  though  now  the  Person  assumed  remains 


1  "  Et  hoc  ipsum  non  plena  fidei  sanitate."  —  The  Cambridge 
Ed.,  16S7,  with  Baluzius's  notes  appended,  reads,  "  et  hoc  ipsum  plena 
fidei  sanctitate." 


2  Rom.  vii.  13. 


in  the  glory  of  God,  yet  once  there  would 
seem  to  have  been  no  difference  between 
Him  and  all  other  men. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

The   Catholic  Doctrine   of  the   Trinity  and   the   Incarnation 
explained. 

[36.]  In  these  ways  then  do  these  rabid 
dogs,  Nestorius,  Apollinaris,  and  Photinus, 
bark  against  the  Catholic  faith:  Photinus, 
by  denying  the  Trinity;  Apollinaris,  by  teach- 
ing that  the  nature  of  the  Word  is  mutable,  and 
refusing  to  acknowledge  that  there  are  two 
substances  in  Christ,  denying  moreover  either 
that  Christ  had  a  soul  at  all,  or,  at  all  events, 
that  he  had  a  rational  soul,  and  asserting  that 
the  Word  of  God  supplied  the  place  of  the 
rational  soul;  Nestorius,  by  affirming  that  there 
were  always  or  at  any  rate  that  once  there 
were  two  Christs.  But  the  Catholic  Church, 
holding  the  right  faith  both  concerning  God 
and  concerning  our  Saviour,  is  guilty  of  blas- 
phemy neither  in  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity, 
nor  in  that  of  the  Incarnation  of  Christ.  For 
she  worships  both  one  Godhead  in  the  plenitude 
of  the  Trinity,  and  the  equality  of  the  Trinity 
in  one  and  the  same  majesty,  and  she  confesses 
one  Christ  Jesus,  not  two ;  the  same  both  God 
and  man,  the  one  as  truly  as  the  other.8 
One  Person  indeed  she  believes  in  Him,  but 
two  substances;  two  substances  but  one 
Person:  Two  substances,  because  the  Word 
of  God  is  not  mutable,  so  as  to  be  converti- 
ble into  flesh ;  one  Person,  lest  by  acknow- 
ledging two  sons  she  should  seem  to  worship 
not  a  Trinity,  but  a  Quaternity 

[37.]  But  it  will  be  well  to  unfold  this  same 
doctrine  more  distinctly  and  explicitly  again 
and  again. 

In  God  there  is  one  substance,  but  three 
Persons;  in  Christ  two  substances,  but  one 
Person.  In  the  Trinity,  another  and  another 
Person,  not  another  and  another  substance 
(distinct  Persons,  not  distinct  substances)  ;  4 
in  the  Saviour  another  and  another  substance, 
not  another  and  another  Person,  (distinct 
substances,  not  distinct  Persons.  How  in 
the  Trinity  another  and  another  Person 
(distinct  Persons)  not  another  and  another 
substance  (distinct  substances)  ? 5  Because 
there   is  one  Person  of   the   Father,   another 


3  TJnum  Christum  Jesum  non  duos,  eundemque  Deum  pariter 
atque  Hominem  confitetur.  Compare  the  Athanasian  Creed,  "Est 
ergo  fides  recta  et  credamus  et  confiteamur,  quia  Dominus  Noster 
Jesus  Christus.     Dei  Filius,  Deus  pariter  et  Homo  est." 

*  In  Trinitate  alius  atque  alius,  non  aliud  atque  aliud.  In  Salvatore 
aliud  atque  aliud,  non  alius  atque  alius. 

6  Aliud  atque  aliud,  non  alius  atque  alius. 


A    COMMONITORY. 


141 


of  the  Son,  another  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  1 
but  yet  there  is  not  another  and  another 
nature  (distinct  natures)  but  one  and  the 
same  nature.  How  in  the  Saviour  another 
and  another  substance,  not  another  and  an- 
other Person  (two  distinct  substances,  not 
two  distinct  Persons)  ?  Because  there  is  one 
substance  of  the  Godhead,  another  of  the 
manhood.  But  yet  the  Godhead  and  the 
manhood  are  not  another  and  another  Person 
(two  distinct  Persons),  but  one  and  the  same 
Christ,  one  and  the  same  Son  of  God,  and 
one  and  the  same  Person  of  one  and  the 
same  Christ  and  Son  of  God,  in  like  manner 
as  in  man  the  flesh  is  one  thing  and  the  soul 
another,  but  one  and  the  same  man,  both  soul 
and  flesh.  In  Peter  and  Paul  the  soul  is 
one  thing,  the  flesh  another;  yet  there  are  not 
two  Peters,  —  one  soul,  the  other  flesh,  or  two 
Pauls,  one  soul,  the  other  flesh, —  but  one  and 
the  same  Peter,  and  one  and  the  same  Paul,  con- 
sisting each  of  two  diverse  natures,  soul  and 
body.  Thus,  then,  in  one  and  the  same  Christ 
there  are  two  substances,  one  divine,  the 
other  human ;  one  of  (ex)  God  the  Father,  the 
other  of  (ex)  the  Virgin  Mother;  one  co- 
eternal  with  and  co-equal  with  the  Father,  the 
other  temporal  and  inferior  to  the  Father; 
one  consubstantial  with  his  Father,  the  other 
consubstantial  with  his  Mother,  but  one  and 
the  same  Christ  in  both  substances.  There 
is  not,  therefore,  one  Christ  God,  the  other 
man,  not  one  uncreated,  the  other  created; 
not  one  impassible,  the  other  passible ;  not 
one  equal  to  the  Father,  the  other  inferior  to 
the  Father;  not  one  of  his  Father  (ex),  the 
other  of  his  Mother  (ex),  but  one  and  the  same 
Christ,  God  and  man,  the  same  uncreated  and 
created,  the  same  unchangeable  and  incapable 
of  suffering,  the  same  acquainted  by  experi- 
ence with  both  change  and  suffering,  the  same 
equal  to  the  Father  and  inferior  to  the  Father, 
the  same  begotten  of  the  Father  before  time, 
("before  the  world"),  the  same  born  of  his 
mother  in  time  ("in  the  world"),2  perfect 
God,  perfect  Man.  In  God  supreme  divinity, 
in  man  perfect  humanity.  Perfect  humanity, 
I  say,  forasmuch  as  it  hath  both  soul  and 
flesh;  the  flesh,  very  flesh;  our  flesh,  his 
mother's  flesh;  the  soul,  intellectual,  endowed 
with  mind  and  reason.  There  is  then  in 
Christ  the  Word,  the  soul,  the  flesh;  but  the 
whole  is  one  Christ,    one   Son  of  God,   and 

1  Quia  scilicet  alia  est  Persona  Patris,  alia  Filii,  alia  Spiritus  Sancti 
sed  tamen  Patris  et  Filii  et  Spiritus  Sancti  non  alia  et  alia  sed  una 
cadunque  natura.  So  the  Athanasian  Creed,  "  Alia  est  enim  Persona 
Patris,  alia  Filii,  alia  Spiritus  Sancti,  sed  Patris  et  Filii  et  Spiritus 
Sancti  una  est  Divinitas,  etc."  The  coincidence  between  the  whole 
of  this  context  and  the  Athanasian  Creed  is  very  observable,  though 
the  agreement  is  not  always  exact  to  the  very  letter. 

2  Idem  ex  Patre  ante  saecula  genitus,  Idem  in  saeculo  ex  matre 
generatus.  Compare  the  Athanasian  Creed,  "  Deus  est  ex  substantia 
Patris  ante  saecula  genitus;  Homo  ex  substantia  Matris  in  sseculo 
natus."     See  Apper.dix  I. 


one  our  Saviour  and  Redeemer:  One,  not  by  I 
know  not  what  corruptible  confusion  of  God- 
head and  manhood,  but  by  a  certain  entire  and 
singular  unity  of  Person.  For  the  conjunc- 
tion hath  not  converted  and  changed  the  one 
nature  into  the  other,  (which  is  the  character- 
istic error  of  the  Arians),  but  rather  hath  in 
such  wise  compacted  both  into  one,  that  while 
there  always  remains  in  Christ  the  singularity 
of  one  and  the  self-same  Person,  there  abides 
eternally  withal  the  characteristic  property  of 
each  nature;  whence  it  follows,  that  neither 
doth  God  (i.e.,  the  divine  nature)  ever  begin 
to  be  body,  nor  doth  the  body  ever  cease  to  be 
body.  The  which  may  be  illustrated  in  human 
nature :  for  not  only  in  the  present  life,  but 
in  the  future  also,  each  individual  man  will 
consist  of  soul  and  body;  nor  will  his  body 
ever  be  converted  into  soul,  or  his  soul  into 
body;  but  while  each  individual  man  will 
live  for  ever,  the  distinction  between  the  two 
substances  will  continue  in  each  individual 
man  for  ever.  So  likewise  in  Christ  each 
substance  will  for  ever  retain  its  own  char- 
acteristic property,  yet  without  prejudice  to 
the  unity  of  Person. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Jesus  Christ  Man  in  Truth,  not  in  Semblance. 

[38.]  But  when  we  use  the  word  "Person," 
and  say  that  God  became  man  by  means  of  a 
Person,  there  is  reason  to  fear  that  our  mean- 
ing may  be  taken  to  be,  that  God  the  Word 
assumed  our  nature  merely  in  imitation,  and 
peformed  the  actions  of  man,  being  man  not 
in  reality,  but  only  in  semblance,  just  as  in  a 
theatre,  one  man  within  a  brief  space  repre- 
sents several  persons,  not  one  of  whom  him- 
self is.  For  when  one  undertakes  to  sustain 
the  part  of  another,  he  performs  the  offices,  or 
does  the  acts,  of  the  person  whose  part  he  sus- 
tains, but  he  is  not  himself  that  person.  So, 
to  take  an  illustration  from  secular  life  and 
one  in  high  favour  with  the  Manichees,  when 
a  tragedian  represents  a  priest  or  a  king,  he  is 
not  really  a  priest  or  a  king.  For,  as  soon  as 
the  play  is  over,  the  person  or  character  whom 
he  represented  ceases  to  be.  God  forbid  that 
we  should  have  anything  to  do  with  such  nefa- 
rious and  wicked  mockery.  Be  it  the  infatu- 
ation of  the  Manichees,  those  preachers  of 
hallucination,  who  say  that  the  Son  of  God, 
God,  was  not  a  human  person  really  and  truly, 
but  that  He  counterfeited  the  person  of  a  man 
in  feigned  conversation  and  manner  of  life. 

[39.]  But  the  Catholic  Faith  teaches  that 
the  Word  of  God  became  man  in  such  wise, 
that  He  took  upon  Him  our  nature,  not  feign- 


142 


VINCENT    OF   LERINS. 


edly  and  in  semblance,  but  in  reality  and 
truth,  and  performed  human  actions,  not  ^as 
though  He  were  imitating  the  actions  of 
another,  but  as  performing  His  own,  and  as 
being  in  reality  the  person  whose  part  He 
sustained.  Just  as  we  ourselves  also,  when 
we  speak,  reason,  live,  subsist,  do  not  imitate 
men,  but  are  men.  Peter  and  John,  for  in- 
stance, were  men,  not  by  imitation,  but  by 
being  men  in  reality.  Paul  did  not  counter- 
feit an  apostle,  or  feign  himself  to  be  Paul, 
but  was  an  apostle,  was  Paul.  So,  also,  that 
which  God  the  Word  did,  in  His  condescen- 
sion, in  assuming  and  having  flesh,  in  speak- 
ing, acting,  and  suffering,  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  flesh,  yet  without  any  marring 
of  His  own  divine  nature,  came  in  one  word 
to  this:  —  He  did  not  imitate  or  feign  Himself 
to  be  perfect  man,  but  He  shewed  Himself  to 
be  very  man  in  reality  and  truth.  There- 
fore, as  the  soul  united  to  the  flesh,  but  yet 
not  changed  into  flesh,  does  not  imitate  man, 
but  is  man,  and  man  not  feignedly  but  sub- 
stantially, so  also  God  the  Word,  without  any 
conversion  of  Himself,  in  uniting  Himself  to 
man,  became  man,  not  by  confusion,  not  by 
imitation,  but  by  actually  being  and  subsist- 
ing. Away  then,  once  and  for  all,  with  the 
notion  of  His  Person  as  of  an  assumed  ficti- 
tious character,  where  always  what  is  is  one 
thing,  what  is  counterfeited  another,  where 
the  man  who  acts  never  is  the  man  whose  part 
he  acts.  God  forbid  that  we  should  believe 
God  the  Word  to  have  taken  upon  Himself 
the  person  of  a  man  in  this  illusory  way. 
Rather  let  us  acknowledge  that  while  His  own 
unchangeable  substance  remained,  and  while 
He  took  upon  Himself  the  nature  of  perfect 
man,  Himself  actually  was  flesh,  Himself  actu- 
ally was  man,  Himself  actually  was  personally 
man;  not  feignedly,  but  in  truth,  not  in  imita- 
tion, but  in  substance;  not,  finally,  so  as  to 
cease  to  be  when  the  performance  was  over, 
but  so  as  to  be,  and  continue  to  be  substantially 
and  permanently. 1 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Union  of  the  Divine  with  the  Human  Nature  took  place  in 
the  very  Conception  of  the  Virgin.  The  appellation  "The 
Mother  of  God. 


[40.]  This  unity  of  Person,  then,  in  Christ 
is  not  effected  after  His  birth  of  the  Virgin, 
t  was  compacted  and  perfected  in  her  very 


1  The  word  "  Person  "  is  used  in  this  and  the  preceding  section 
in  a  way  which  might  seem  at  variance  with  Catholic  truth.  Christ 
did  not  assume  the  Person  of  a  man ;  but,  being  God,  He  united  in 
his  one  divine  Person,  the  Godhead  and  the  Manhood.  This  Vin- 
centius  himself  teaches  most  explicitly.  But  his  object  here  is  to 
show  that  our  blessed  Lord,  while  conversant  among  us  as  man,  and 
being  to  all  appearance  man,  did  not  personate  man,  but  was  man  in 
deed  and  in  truth.  The  misconception  against  which  Vincentius 
seeks  to  guard  arises  from  the  ambiguity  of  the  Latin  Persona,  an 


womb.  For  we  must  take  most  especial  heed 
that  we  confess  Christ  not  only  one,  but 
always  one.  For  it  were  intolerable  blas- 
phemy, if  while  thou  dost  confess  Him  one 
now,  thou  shouldst  maintain  that  once  He  was 
not  one,  but  two;  one  forsooth  since  His  bap- 
tism, but  two  at  His  birth.  Which  monstrous 
sacrilege  we  shall  assuredly  in  no  wise  avoid 
unless  we  acknowledge  the  manhood  united  to 
the  Godhead  (but  by  unity  of  Person),  not  from 
the  ascension,  or  the  resurrection,  or  the  bap- 
tism, but  even  in  His  mother,  even  in  the 
womb,  even  in  the  Virgin's  very  conception.2 
In  consequence  of  which  unity  of  Person,  both 
those  attributes  which  are  proper  to  God  are 
ascribed  to  man,  and  those  which  are  proper 
to  the  flesh  to  God,  indifferently  and  promis- 
cuously.3 For  hence  it  is  written  by  divine 
guidance,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  Son  of 
man  came  down  from  heaven ; 4  and  on  the 
other,  that  the  Lord  of  glory  was  crucified  on 
earth.5  Hence  it  is  also  that  since  the 
Lord's  flesh  was  made,  since  the  Lord's 
flesh  was  created,  the  very  Word  of  God  is 
said  to  have  been  made,  the  very  omniscient 
Wisdom  of  God  to  have  been  created,  just  as 
prophetically  His  hands  and  His  feet  are 
described  as  having  been  pierced.6  From  this 
unity  of  Person  it  follows,  by  reason  of  a  like 
mystery,  that,  since  the  flesh  of  the  Word  was 
born  of  an  undefiled  mother,  God  the  Word 
Himself  is  most  Catholicly  believed,  most 
impiously  denied,  to  have  been  born  of  the 
Virgin;  which  being  the  case,  God  forbid  that 
any  one  should  seek  to  defraud  Holy  Mary 
of  her  prerogative  of  divine  grace  and  her 
special  glory.  For  by  the  singular  gift  of 
Him  who  is  our  Lord  and  God,  and  withal, 
her  own  son,  she  is  to  be  confessed  most 
truly  and  most  blessedly — The  mother  of  God 


ambiguity  which  is  not  continued  in  our  derived  word  Person.  Per- 
sona signifies  not  only  Person,  in  our  sense  of  the  word,  but  also  an 
assumed  cJtaracter.  Though  however  we  have  not  this  sense  in 
Person,  we  have  it  in  Personate. 

2  If  the  Son  of  God  had  taken  to  Himself  a  man  now  made  and 
already  perfected,  it  would  of  necessity  follow  that  there  are  in 
Christ  two  persons,  the  one  assuming  and  the  other  assumed; 
whereas,  the  Son  of  God  did  not  assume  a  man's  person  unto  His 
own,  but  a  man's  nature  to  His  own  person,  and  therefore  took 
semen,  the  seed  of  Abraham,  the  very  first  original  element  of  our 
nature,  before  it  was  come  to  have  any  personal  human  subsistence. 
The  flesh,  and  the  conjunction  of  the  flesh  with  God,  began  both  in 
one  instant.  His  making  and  taking  to  Himself  our  flesh  was  but  one 
act,  so  that  in  Christ  there  is  no  personal  subsistence  but  one,  and 
that  from  everlasting.  By  taking  only  the  nature  of  man  He  still 
continueth  one  person,  andchangeth  but  the  manner  of  His  subsisting, 
which  was  before  in  the  mere  glory  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  is  now 
in  the  habit  of  our  flesh.  — Hooker,  Eccl.  Pol.  v.  52,  §  3. 

3  "A  kind  of  mutual  commutation  there  is,  whereby  those  con- 
crete names,  God  and  man,  when  we  speak  of  Christ,  do  take  inter- 
changeably one  another's  room,  so  that  for  truth  of  speech,  it  skill- 
eth  not,  whether  we  say  that  the  Son  of  God  hath  created  the  world, 
and  the  Son  of  man  by  His  death  hath  saved  it,  or  else,  that  the  Son 
of  man  did  create,  and  the  Son  of  God  die  to  save  the  world.  How- 
beit,  as  oft  as  we  attribute  to  God  what  the  manhood  of  Christ  claim- 
eth,  or  to  man  what  His  Deity  hath  right  unto,  we  understand  by  the 
name  of  God  and  the  name  of  man  neither  the  one  nor  the  other 
nature,  but  the  whole  person  of  Christ,  in  whom  both  natures  are." 
—  Hooker,  Eccl.  Polity,  v.  53,  §  4.  This  is  technically  called  "The 
Communication  of  Properties,"  Communicatio  idiomatum. 

4  St.  John  iii.  13.  °  1  Cor.  ii.  8.  6  Ps.  xxii.  16. 


A    COMMONITORY. 


H3 


"Theotocos,"  but  not  in  the  sense  in  which  it 
is  imagined  by  a  certain  impious  heresy  which 
maintains,  that  she  is  to  be  called  the  Mother 
of  God  for  no  other  reason  than  because  she 
gave  birth  to  that  man  who  afterwards  became 
God,  just  as  we  speak  of  a  woman  as  the 
mother  of  a  priest,  or  the  mother  of  a  bishop, 
meaning  that  she  was  such,  not  by  giving 
birth  to  one  already  a  priest  or  a  bishop,  but 
by  giving  birth  to  one  who  afterwards  became 
a  priest  or  a  bishop.  Not  thus,  I  say,  was 
the  holy  Mary  "Theotocos,"  the  mother  of 
God,  but  rather,  as  was  said  before,  because 
in  her  sacred  womb  was  wrought  that  most 
sacred  mystery  whereby,  on  account  of  the 
singular  and  unique  unity  of  Person,  as  the 
Word  in  flesh  is  flesh,  so  Man  in  God  is  God.1 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Recapitulation  of  what  was   said  of  the  Catholic  Faith  and 
of  divers  Heresies,  Chapters  xi-xv. 

[41.]  But  now  that  we  may  refresh  our 
remembrance  of  what  has  been  briefly  said 
concerning  either  the  afore-mentioned  heresies 
or  the  Catholic  Faith,  let  us  go  over  it  again 
more  briefly  and  concisely,  that  being  repeated 
it  may  be  more  thoroughly  understood,  and 
being  pressed  home  more  firmly  held. 

Accursed  then  be  Photinus,  who  does  not 
receive  the  Trinity  complete,  but  asserts  that 
Christ  is  mere  man. 

Accursed  be-  Apollinaris,  who  affirms  that 
the  Godhead  of  Christ  is  marred  by  conver- 
sion, and  defrauds  Him  of  the  property  of 
perfect  humanity. 

Accursed  be  Nestorius,  who  denies  that 
God  was  born  of  the  Virgin,  affirms  two 
Christs,  and  rejecting  the  belief  of  the 
Trinity,  brings  in  a  Quaternity. 

But  blessed  be  the  Catholic  Church,  which 
worships  one  God  in  the  completeness  of  the 
Trinity,  and  at  the  same  time  adores  the 
equality  of  the  Trinity  in  the  unity  of  the 
Godhead,  so  that  neither  the  singularity  of 
substance  confounds  the  propriety  of  the  Per- 
sons, not  the  distinction  of  the  Persons  in  the 
Trinity  separates  the  unity  of  the  Godhead. 

Blessed,  I  say,  be  the  Church,  which  be- 
lieves that  in  Christ  there  are  two  true  and 
perfect  substances  but  one  Person,  so  that 
neither  doth  the  distinction  of  natures  divide 
the  unity  of  Person,  nor  the  unity  of  Person 
confound  the  distinction  of  substances. 

Blessed,  I  say,  be  the  Church,  which  under- 
stands God  to  have  become  Man,  not  by  con- 
version of  nature,  but  by  reason  of  a  Person, 


1  Sicut  Verbum  in  came  caro,  ita  Homo  in  Deo  Deus  est.  Com- 
pare the  Atlianasian  Creed,  v.  33,  in  what  is  probably  the  true  read- 
ing, "  Unus  autem,  non  conversione  Divinitatis  in  came,  sed 
assumptione  Humanitatis  in  Deo."  _ 


but  of  a  Person  not  feigned  and  transient, 
but  substantial  and  permanent. 

Blessed,  I  say,  be  the  Church,  which  de- 
clares this  unity  of  Person  to  be  so  real  and 
effectual,  that  because  of  it,  in  a  marvellous 
and  ineffable  mystery,  she  ascribes  divine  at- 
tributes to  man,  and  human  to  God ;  because 
of  it,  on  the  one  hand,  she  does  not  deny  that 
Man,  as  God,  came  down  from  heaven,  on 
the  other,  she  believes  that  God,  as  Man,  was 
created,  suffered,  and  was  crucified  on  earth ; 
because  of  it,  finally,  she  confesses  Man  the 
Son  of  God,  and  God  the  Son  of  the  Virgin. 

Blessed,  then,  and  venerable,  blessed  and 
most  sacred,  and  altogether  worthy  to  be  com- 
pared with  those  celestial  praises  of  the 
Angelic  Host,  be  the  confession  which  ascribes 
glory  to  the  one  Lord  God  with  a  threefold 
ascription  of  holiness.  For  this  reason  more- 
over she  insists  emphatically  upon  the  oneness 
of  the  Person  of  Christ,  that  she  may  not  go 
beyond  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity  (that  is 
by  making  in  effect  a  Quaternity.) 

Thus  much  by  way  of  digression.  On 
another  occasion,  please  God,  we  will  deal 
with  the  subject  and  unfold  it  more  fully.2 
Now  let  us  return  to  the  matter  in  hand. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

The  Error  of  Origen  a  great  Trial  to  the  Church. 

[42.]  We  said  above  that  in  the  Church  of 
God  the  teacher's  error  is  the  people's  trial, 
a  trial  by  so  much  the  greater  in  proportion 
to  the  greater  learning  of  the  erring  teacher. 
This  we  showed  first  by  the  authority  of 
Scripture,  and  then  by  instances  from  Church 
History,  of  persons  who  having  at  one  time 
had  the  reputation  of  being  sound  in  the  faith, 
eventually  either  fell  away  to  some  sect  already 
in  existence,  or  else  founded  a  heresy  of  their 
own.  An  important  fact  truly,  useful  to  be 
learnt,  and  necessary  to  be  remembered,  and 
to  be  illustrated  and  enforced  again  and  again, 
by  example  upon  example,  in  order  that  all 
true  Catholics  may  understand  that  it  be- 
hoves them  with  the  Church  to  receive  Teach- 
ers, not  with  Teachers  to  desert  the  faith  of 
the  Church. 

[43.]  My  belief  is,  that  among  many 
instances  of  this  sort  of  trial  which  might  be 
produced,  there  is  not  one  to  be  compared 
with   that   of    Origen,3  in   whom   there  were 


2  Anrtelmi,  who  ascribed  the  Athanasian  Creed  to  Vincentius, 
thought  that  document  a  fulfilment  of  the  promise  here  made.  Nova 
de  Symbolo  Athanasiano  Disquisitio.  —  See  Appendix  I. 

3  Origen  was  born  of  Christian  parents,  at  Alexandria,  about  the 
year  186.  His  father,  Leonidas,  suffered  martyrdom  in  the  perse- 
cution under  Severus,  in  202  ;  and  the  family  estate  having  been  con- 
fiscated, his  mother,  with  six  younger  children,  became  dependent 
upon  him  for  her  support,  At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  was  appointed 
by  the  bishop  Demetrius  over  the  Catechetical  School  of  Alexandria, 


1 44 


VINCENT    OF    LERINS. 


many  things  so  excellent,  so  unique,  so 
admirable,  that  antecedently  any  one  would 
readily  deem  that  implicit  faith  was  to  be 
placed  in  all  his  assertions.  For  if  the  con- 
versation and  manner  of  life  carry  authority, 
great  was  his  industry,  great  his  modesty,  his 
patience,  his  endurance;  if  his  descent  or  his 
erudition,  what  more  noble  than  his  birth  of 
a  house  rendered  illustrious  by  martyrdom? 
Afterwards,  when  in  the  cause  of  Christ  he 
had  been  deprived  not  only  of  his  father,  but 
also  of  all  his  property,  he  attained  so  high  a 
standard  in  the  midst  of  the  straits  of  holy 
poverty,  that  he  suffered  several  times,  it  is 
said,  as  a  Confessor.  Nor  were  these  the 
only  circumstances  connected  with  him,  all  of 
which  afterwards  proved  an  occasion  of  trial. 
He  had  a  genius  so  powerful,  so  profound,  so 
acute,  so  elegant,  that  there  was  hardly  any 
one  whom  he  did  not  very  far  surpass.  The 
splendour  of  his  learning,  and  of  his  erudition 
generally,  was  such  that  there  were  few  points 
of  divine  philosophy,  hardly  any  of  human, 
which  he  did  not  thoroughly  master.  When 
Greek  had  yielded  to  his  industry,  he  made 
himself  a  proficient  in  Hebrew.  What  shall  I 
say  of  his  eloquence,  the  style  of  which  was 
so  charming,  so  soft,  so  sweet,  that  honey 
rather  than  words  seemed  to  flow  from  his 
mouth!  What  subjects  were  there,  however 
difficult,  which  he  did  not  render  clear  and  per- 
spicuous by  the  force  of  his  reasoning?  What 
undertakings,  however  hard  to  accomplish, 
which  he  did  not  make  to  appear  most  easy? 
But  perhaps  his  assertions  rested  simply  on  in- 
geniously woven  argumentation?  On  the  con- 
trary, no  teacher  ever  used  more  proofs  drawn 
from  Scripture.  Then  I  suppose  he  wrote 
little?  No  man  more,  so  that,  if  I  mistake 
not,  his  writings  not  only  cannot  all  be  read 
through,  they  cannot  all  be  found ; x  for  that 
nothing  might  be  wanting  to  his  opportunities 
of  obtaining  knowledge,  he  had  the  additional 
advantage  of  a  life  greatly  prolonged.2  But 
perhaps  he  was  not  particularly  happy  in  his 
disciples?  Who  ever  more  so?  From  his 
school  came  forth  doctors,  priests,  confessors, 


the  duties  of  which  place  he  discharged  with  eminent  ability  and 
success.  He  remained  a  layman  till  the  age  of  forty-three,  when  he 
was  admitted  to  priest's  orders  at  Ca?sarea,  greatly  to  the  displeasure 
of  Demetrius,  by  whose  hand,  according  to  the  Church's  rule,  the  office 
ought  to  have  been  conferred,  and  he  was  in  consequence  banished 
from  Alexandria.  Returning  to  Cssarea,  he  taught  there  with  great 
reputation,  and  had  many  eminent  persons  among  his  disciples.  He 
suffered  much  in  the  Decian  persecution  in  250,  when  he  was  thrown 
into  prison  and  subjected  to  severe  tortures.  His  works,  as  Vincen- 
tuis  says,  were  very  numerous,  including  among  them  the  Hexapla, 
a  revised  edition  of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  and  of  the  Septuagint  ver- 
sion, together  with  three  other  versions,  the  Hebrew  being  set  forth 
in  both  Hebrew  and  Greek  characters.  His  writings  were  corrupted 
in  many  instances,  so  that,  as  Vincentius  says,  opinions  were  often 
imputed  to  him  which  he  would  not  have  acknowledged.  He  died  in 
his  sixty-ninth  year  at  Tyre,  and  was  buried  there. 

1  "  Quis  nostrum,"  says  St.  Jerome,  "  potest  tanta  legere  quanta 
llle  conscripsit." — Hieron.  ad  Pam.  et  Ocean. 

2  He  died,  as  was  said  in  the  preceding  note,  in  his  sixty-ninth 
year. 


martyrs,  without  number.3  Then  who  can 
express  how  much  he  was  admired  by  all, 
how  great  his  renown,  how  wide  his  influ- 
ence? Who  was  there  whose  religion  was  at 
all  above  the  common  standard  that  did  not 
hasten  to  him  from  the  ends  of  the  earth? 
What  Christian  did  not  reverence  him  almost 
as  a  prophet;  what  philosopher  as  a  master? 
How  great  was  the  veneration  with  which  he 
was  regarded,  not  only  by  private  persons,  but 
also  by  the  Court,  is  declared  by  the  histories 
which  relate  how  he  was  sent  for  by  the 
mother  of  the  Emperor  Alexander,4  moved  by 
the  heavenly  wisdom  with  the  love  of  which 
she,  as  he,  was  inflamed.  To  this  also  his 
letters  bear  witness,  which,  with  the  authority 
which  he  assumed  as  a  Christian  Teacher,  he 
wrote  to  the  Emperor  Philip,5  the  first  Roman 
prince  that  was  a  Christian.  As  to  his  in- 
credible learning,  if  any  one  is  unwilling  to 
receive  the  testimony  of  Christians  at  our 
hands,  let  him  at  least  accept  that  of  heathens 
at  the  hands  of  philosophers.  For  that  im- 
pious Porphyry  says  that  when  he  was  little 
more  than  a  boy,  incited  by  his  fame,  he 
went  to  Alexandria,  and  there  saw  him,  then 
an  old  man,  but  a  man  evidently  of  so  great 
attainments,  that  he  had  reached  the  summit 
of  universal  knowledge. 

[44.]  Time  would  fail  me  to  recount,  even 
in  a  very  small  measure,  the  excellencies  of 
this  man,  all  of  which,  nevertheless,  not 
only  contributed  to  the  glory  of  religion,  but 
also  increased  the  magnitude  of  the  trial. 
For  who  in  the  world  would  lightly  desert  a 
man  of  so  great  genius,  so  great  learning,  so 
great  influence,  and  would  not  rather  adopt 
that  saying,  That  he  would  rather  be  wrong 
with  Origen,  than  be  right  with  others.6 

What  shall  I  say  more?  The  result  was 
that  very  many  were  led  astray  from  the 
integrity  of  the  faith,  not  by  any  human 
excellencies  of  this  so  great  man,  this  so 
great  doctor,  this  so  great  prophet,  but,  as 
the  event  showed,  by  the  too  perilous  trial 
which  he  proved  to  be.  Hence  it  came  to 
pass,  that  this  Origen,  such  and  so  great  as 
he  was,  wantonly  abusing  the  grace  of  God, 
rashly  following  the  bent  of  his  own  genius, 
and  placing  overmuch  confidence  in  himself, 
making  light  account  of  the  ancient  simplicity 
of  the  Christian  religion,  presuming  that  he 
knew   more   than  all   the  world  besides,  de- 


3  Among  these  were  Gregory  Thaumaturgus,  Bishop  of  Neo- 
Caesarea  in  Pontus,  and  Firmihan,  Bishop  of  Cssarea  in  Cappa- 
docia. 

4  Mammea. 

B  These  are  St.  Jerome's  words,  from  whose  book,  De  Viris  illus- 
tribus  c.  54,  Vincentius's  account  of  Origen  is  taken.  The  vexed 
question  of  Philip's  claim  to  be  ranked  as  a  Christian  is  discussed  by 
Tillemont.  — Histoire   cits  Empereurs,  T.  iii.  pp.  494  sgq. 

B  Errare  malo  cum  Platone  quam  cum  istis  vera  sentire.  —  Cicero, 
Tuscul.  Quasi.  1. 


A   COMMONITORY. 


'45 


spising  the  traditions  of  the  Church  and  the 
determinations  of  the  ancients,  and  interpret- 
ing certain  passages  of  Scripture  in  a  novel 
way,  deserved  for  himself  the  warning  given 
to  the  Church  of  God,  as  applicable  in  his 
case  as  in  that  of  others,  "  If  there  arise  a 
prophet  in  the  midst  of  thee,"  .  .  .  "thou  shalt 
not  hearken  to  the  words  of  that  prophet," 
.  .  .  "because  the  Lord  your  God  doth  make 
trial  of  you,  whether  you  love  Him  or 
not."1  Truly,  thus  of  a  sudden  to  seduce  the 
Church  which  was  devoted  to  him,  and  hung 
upon  him  through  admiration  of  his  genius, 
his  learning,  his  eloquence,  his  manner  of 
life  and  influence,  while  she  had  no  fear,  no 
suspicion  for  herself,  — thus,  I  say,  to  seduce 
the  Church,  slowly  and  little  by  little,  from 
the  old  religion  to  a  new  profaneness,  was 
not  only  a  trial,  but  a  great  trial.2 

[45.]  But  some  one  will  say,  Origen's 
books  have  been  corrupted.  I  do  not  deny 
it;  nay,  I  grant  it  readily.  For  that  such  is 
the  case  has  been  handed  down  both  orally 
and  in  writing,  not  only  by  Catholics,  but  by 
heretics  as  well.  But  the  point  is,  that  though 
himself  be  not,  yet  books  published  under  his 
name  are,  a  great  trial,  which,  abounding  in 
many  hurtful  blasphemies,  are  both  read  and 
delighted  in,  not  as  being  some  one  else's, 
but  as  being  believed  to  be  his,  so  that, 
although  there  was  no  error  in  Origen's  origi- 
nal meaning,  yet  Origen's  authority  appears 
to  be  an  effectual  cause  in  leading  people  to 
embrace  error. 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Tertullian  a  great  Trial  to  the  Church. 

[46.]  The  case  is  the  same  with  Tertullian.3 
For  as  Origen   holds   by  far   the   first   place 


1  Deuteronomy  xiii.  1. 

2  "  The  great  Origen  died  after  his  many  labors  in  peace.  His 
immediate  pupils  were  saints  and  rulers  in  the  Church.  He  has  the 
praise  of  St.  Athanasius,  St.  Basil,  and  St.  Gregory  Nazianzen,  and 
furnishes  materials  to  St.  Ambrose  and  St.  Hilary;  yet,  as  time  pro- 
ceeded, a  definite  heterodoxy  was  the  growing  result  of  his  theology, 
and  at  length,  three  hundred  years  after  his  death,  he  was  condemned, 
and,  as  has  generally  been  considered,  in  an  Oecumenical  Council."  — 
Newman  on  Development,  p.  85,  First  Edition. 

3  Hardly  anything  is  known  of  Tertullian,  besides  what  may  be 
gathered  from  his  works,  in  addition  to  the  following  account  given 
by  St.  Jerome  (De  Viris  Ilhistribus),  which  I  quote  from  Bishop 
Kaye's  work  on  Tertullian  and  his  writings:  "Tertullian,  a  pres- 
byter, the  first  Latin  writer  after  Victor  and  Apollonius,  was  a  native 
of  the  province  of  Africa  and  city  of  Carthage,  the  son  of  a  procon- 
sular centurion.  He  was  a  man  of  a  sharp  and  vehement  temper, 
flourished  under  Severus  and  Caracalla,  and  wrote  numerous  works, 
which,  as  they  are  generally  known,  I  think  it  unnecessary  to  par- 
ticularize, f  saw  at  Concordia,  in  Italy,  an  old  man  named  Paulus, 
who  said  that,  when  young,  he  had  met  at  Rome  with  an  aged 
amanuensis  of  the  blessed  Cyprian,  who  told  him  that  Cyprian  never 
passed  a  day  without  reading  some  portion  of  Tertullian's  works,  and 
used  frequently  to  say,  'Give  me  my  master,'  meaning  Tertullian. 
After  remaining  a  presbyter  of  the  Church  till  he  had  attained  the 
middle  of  life,  Tertullian  was  by  the  cruel  and  contumelious  treatment 
of  the  Roman  clergy  driven  to  embrace  the  opinions  of  Montanus, 
which  he  has  mentioned  in  several  of  his  works,  under  the  title  of 
'The  New  Prophecy.'  He  is  reported  to  have  lived  to  a  very 
advanced  age."  He  was  born  about  the  middle  of  the  second  cen- 
tury, and  flourished,  according  to  the  dates  indicated  above,  between 
the  years  190  and  216. 


among  the  Greeks,  so  does  Tertullian  among 
the  Latins.  For  who  more  learned  than  he, 
who  more  versed  in  knowledge  whether  divine 
or  human?  With  marvellous  capacity  of  mind 
he  comprehended  all  philosophy,  and  had  a 
knowledge  of  all  schools  of  philosophers,  and 
of  the  founders  and  upholders  of  schools,  and 
was  acquainted  with  all  their  rules  and  ob- 
servances, and  with  their  various  histories 
and  studies.  Was  not  his  genius  of  such  un- 
rivalled strength  and  vehemence  that  there 
was  scarcely  any  obstacle  which  he  proposed 
to  himself  to  overcome,  that  he  did  not  pene- 
trate by  acuteness,  or  crush  by  weight?  As 
to  his  style,  who  can  sufficiently  set  forth  its 
praise?  It  was  knit  together  with  so  much 
cogency  of  argument  that  it  compelled  assent, 
even  where  it  failed  to  persuade.  Every  word 
almost  was  a  sentence;  every  sentence  a  vic- 
tory. This  know  the  Marcions,  the  Apelleses, 
the  Praxeases,  the  Hermogeneses,  the  Jews, 
the  Heathens,  the  Gnostics,  and  the  rest, 
whose  blasphemies  he  overthrew  by  the  force 
of  his  many  and  ponderous  volumes,  as  with 
so  many  thunderbolts.  Yet  this  man  also, 
notwithstanding  all  that  I  have  mentioned, 
this  Tertullian,  I  say,  too  little  tenacious  of 
Catholic  doctrine,  that  is,  of  the  universal 
and  ancient  faith,  more  eloquent  by  far  than 
faithful,4  changed  his  belief,  and  justified  what 
the  blessed  Confessor,  Hilary,  writes  of  him, 
namely,  that  "by  his  subsequent  error  he 
detracted  from  the  authority  of  his  approved 
writings."5  He  also  was  a  great  trial  in  the 
Church.  But  of  Tertullian  I  am  unwilling  to 
say  more.  This  only  I  will  add,  that,  contrary 
to  the  injunction  of  Moses,  by  asserting  the 
novel  furies  of  Montanus  6  which  arose  in  the 
Church,  and  those  mad  dreams  of  new  doc- 
trine dreamed  by  mad  women,  to  be  true 
prophecies,  he  deservedly  made  both  himself 
and  his  writings  obnoxious  to  the  words, 
"  If  there  arise  a  prophet  in  the  midst  of 
thee,".  .  .  "thou  shalt  not  hearken  to  the 
words  of  that  prophet."  For  why?  "Because 
the  Lord  your  God  doth  make  trial  of  you, 
whether  you  love  Him  or  not." 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

What  we  ought  to  learn  from  these  Examples. 

[47.]  It  behoves  us,  then,  to  give  heed  to 
these  instances  from  Church  History,  so 
many   and  so  great,  and  others  of  the  same 


4  Fidelior,  Baluz,  Felicior,  others.  6  In  Mat.  v. 

6  Montanus,  with  his  two  prophetesses,  professed  that  he  was 
intrusted  with  a  new  dispensation,  —  a  dispensation  in  advance  of 
the  Gospel,  as  the  Gospel  was  in  advance  of  the  Law.  His  system 
was  a  protest  against  the  laxity  which  had  grown  up  in  the  Church, 
as  has  repeatedly  been  the  case  after  revivals  of  religious  fervor,  veri- 
fying Tertullian's  apophthegm,  "  Christiani  fiunt,  non  nascuntur  " 
(men  become  Christians,  they  are  not  born  such).     Its  characteristics 


146 


VINCENT   OF   LfiRINS. 


description,  and  to  understand  distinctly, 
in*  accordance  with  the  rule  laid  down  in 
Deuteronomy,  that  if  at  any  time  a  Doctor  in 
the  Church  have  erred  from  the  faith,  Divine 
Providence  permits  it  in  order  to  make  trial 
of  us,  whether  or  not  we  love  God  with  all 
our  heart  and  with  all  our  mind. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

The  Notes  of  a  true  Catholic. 

[48.]  This  being  the  case,  he  is  the  true 
and  genuine  Catholic  who  loves  the  truth  of 
God,  who  loves  the  Church,  who  loves  the 
Body  of  Christ,  who  esteems  divine  religion 
and  the  Catholic  Faith  above  every  thing, 
above  the  authority,  above  the  regard,  above 
the  genius,  above  the  eloquence,  above  the 
philosophy,  of  every  man  whatsoever;  who 
sets  light  by  all  of  these,  and  continuing 
steadfast  and  established  in  the  faith,  resolves 
that  he  will  believe  that,  and  that  only,  which 
he  is  sure  the  Catholic  Church  has  held  uni- 
versally and  from  ancient  time;  but  that  what- 
soever new  and  unheard-of  doctrine  he  shall 
find  to  have  been  furtively  introduced  by  some 
one  or  another,  besides  that  of  all,  or  contrary 
to  that  of  all  the  saints,  this,  he  will  under- 
stand, does  not  pertain  to  religion,  but  is  per- 
mitted as  a  trial,  being  instructed  especially 
by  the  words  of  the  blessed  Apostle  Paul,  who 
writes  thus  in  his  first  Epistle  to  the  Cor- 
inthians, "There  must  needs  be  heresies,  that 
they  who  are  approved  may  be  made  manifest 
among  you:"1  as  though  he  should  say,  This 
is  the  reason  why  the  authors  of  Heresies  are 
not  forthwith  rooted  up  by  God,  namely,  that 
they  who  are  approved  may  be  made  manifest; 
that  is,  that  it  may  be  apparent  of  each  indi- 
vidual, how  tenacious  and  faithful  and  stead- 
fast he  is  in  his  love  of  the  Catholic  faith. 

[49.]  And  in  truth,  as  each  novelty  springs 
up  incontinently  is  discerned  the  difference 
between  the  weight  of  the  wheat  and  the 
lightness  of  the  chaff.  Then  that  which  had 
no  weight  to  keep  it  on  the  floor  is  without 
difficulty  blown  away.  For  some  at  once  fly 
off  entirely;  others  having  been  only  shaken 
out,  afraid  of  perishing,  wounded,  half  alive, 
half  dead,  are  ashamed  to  return.  They  have, 
in  fact  swallowed  a  quantity  of  poison  —  not 
enough  to  kill,  yet  more  than  can  be  got  rid 
of;  it  neither  causes  death,  nor  suffers  to 
.live.     O     wretched    condition!     With    what 


were  extreme  ascetism,  rigorous  fasting,  the  exaltation  of  celibacy,  the 
absolute  prohibition  of  second  marriage,  the  expectation  of  our  Lord's 
second  advent  as  near  at  hand,  the  disparagement  of  the  clergy  in 
comparison  with  its  own  Paraclete-inspired  teachers.  It  had  its  rise 
in  Phrygia,  and  from  thence  spread  throughout  Asia  Minor,  thence  it 
found  its  way  to  Southern  Gaul,  to  Rome,  to  North  Western  Africa, 
in  which  last  for  a  time  it  had  many  followers. 
1  1  Cor.  ii.  9. 


surging  tempestuous  cares  are  they  tossed 
about!  One  while,  the  error  being  set  in 
motion,  they  are  hurried  whithersoever  the 
wind  drives  them ;  another,  returning  upon 
themselves  like  refluent  waves,  they  are  dashed 
back :  one  while,  with  rash  presumption,  they 
give  their  approval  to  what  seems  uncertain; 
another,  with  irrational  fear,  they  are  fright- 
ened out  of  their  wits  at  what  is  certain, 
in  doubt  whither  to  go,  whither  to  return, 
what  to  seek,  what  to  shun,  what  to  keep, 
what  to  throw  away. 

[50.]  This  affliction,  indeed,  of  a  hesitating 
and  miserably  vacillating  mind  is,  if  they 
are  wise,  a  medicine  intended  for  them  by 
God's  compassion.  For  therefore  it  is  that 
outside  the  most  secure  harbour  of  the  Cath- 
olic Faith,  they  are  tossed  about,  beaten,  and 
almost  killed,  by  divers  tempestuous  cogita- 
tions, in  order  that  they  may  take  in  the  sails 
of  self-conceit,  which,  they  had  with  ill 
advice  unfurled  to  the  blasts  of  novelty, 
and  may  betake  themselves  again  to,  and 
remain  stationary  within,  the  most  secure 
harbour  of  their  placid  and  good  mother,  and 
may  begin  by  vomiting  up  those  bitter  and 
turbid  floods  of  error  which  they  had  swal- 
lowed, that  thenceforward  they  may  be  able 
to  drink  the  streams  of  fresh  and  living  water. 
Let  them  unlearn  well  what  they  had  learnt 
not  well,  and  let  them  receive  so  much  of  the 
entire  doctrine  of  the  Church  as  they  can 
understand :  what  they  cannot  understand  let 
them  believe. 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

Exposition  of  St.  Paul's  Words.  —  1  Tim.  vi.  20. 

[51.]  Such  being  the  case,  when  I  think 
over  these  things,  and  revolve  them  in  my  mind 
again  and  again,  I  cannot  sufficiently  wonder 
at  the  madness  of  certain  men,  at  the  impiety 
of  their  blinded  understanding,  at  their  lust 
of  error,  such  that,  not  content  with  the  rule 
of  faith  delivered  once  for  all,  and  received 
from  the  times  of  old,  they  are  every  day 
seeking  one  novelty  after  another,  and  are 
constantly  longing  to  add,  change,  take  away, 
in  religion,  as  though  the  doctrine,  "Let  what 
has  once  for  all  been  revealed  suffice,"  were 
not  a  heavenly  but  an  earthly  rule,  —  a  rule 
which  could  not  be  complied  with  except  by 
continual  emendation,  nay,  rather  by  con- 
tinual fault-finding;  whereas  the  divine 
Oracles  cry  aloud,  "Remove  not  the  land- 
marks, which  thy  fathers  have  set,"2  and  "Go 
not  to  law  with  a  Judge,"3  and  "Whoso 
breaketh  through  a  fence  a  serpent  shall  bite 
him,"4  and  that  saying  of  the  Apostle  where- 


5  Prov.  xxii.  28.  3  Ecclus.  viii.  14.  4  Eccles.  x.  8. 


A   COMMONITORY. 


H7 


with,  as  with  a  spiritual  sword,  all  the  wicked 
novelties  of  all  heresies  often  have  been, 
and  will  always  have  to  be,  decapitated,  "  O 
Timothy,  keep  the  deposit,  shunning  pro- 
fane novelties  of  words  and  oppositions  of  the 
knowledge  falsely  so  called,  which  some  pro- 
fessing have  erred  concerning  the  faith."  1 

[52.]  After  words  such  as  these,  is  there 
any  one  of  so  hardened  a  front,  such  anvil- 
like impudence,  such  adamantine  pertinacity, 
as  not  to  succumb  to  so  huge  a  mass,  not  to 
be  crushed  by  so  ponderous  a  weight,  not  to  be 
shaken  in  pieces  by  such  heavy  blows,  not 
to  be  annihilated  by  such  dreadful  thunder- 
bolts of  divine  eloquence?  "Shun  profane 
novelties,"  he  says.  He  does  not  say  shun 
"antiquity."  But  he  plainly  points  to  what 
ought  to  follow  by  the  rule  of  contrary.  For  if 
novelty  is  to.  be  shunned,  antiquity  is  to  be 
held  fast;  if  novelty  is  profane,  antiquity  is 
sacred.  He  adds,  "  And  oppositions  of  science 
falsely  so  called."  "Falsely  called"  indeed, 
as  applied  to  the  doctrines  of  heretics,  where 
ignorance  is  disguised  under  the  name  of 
knowledge,  fog  of  sunshine,  darkness  of  light. 
"Which  some  professing  have  erred  concern- 
ing the  faith."  Professing  what?  What  but 
some  (I  know  not  what)  new  and  unheard-of 
doctrine.  For  thou  mayest  hear  some  of  these 
same  doctors  say,  "Come,  O  silly  wretches, 
who  go  by  the  name  of  Catholics,  come  and 
learn  the  true  faith,  which  no  one  but  our- 
selves is  acquainted  with,  which  same  has  lain 
hid  these  many  ages,  but  has  recently  been 
revealed  and  made  manifest.  But  learn  it  by 
stealth  and  in  secret,  for  you  will  be  delighted 
with  it.  Moreover,  when  you  have  learnt  it, 
teach  it  furtively,  that  the  world  may  not  hear, 
that  the  Church  may  not  know.  For  there 
are  but  few  to  whom  it  is  granted  to  receive 
the  secret  of  so  great  a  mystery."  Are  not 
these  the  words  of  that  harlot  who,  in  the 
proverbs  of  Solomon,  calls  to  the  passengers 
who  go  right  on  their  ways,  "Whoso  is 
simple  let  him  turn  in  hither."  And  as  for 
them  that  are  void  of  understanding,  she 
exhorts  them  saying:  "Drink  stolen  waters, 

»for  they  are  sweet,  and  eat  bread  in  secret  for 
it  is  pleasant."  What  next?  "But  he  know- 
eth  not  that  the  sons  of  earth  perish  in  her 
house."1  Who  are  those  "sons  of  earth"? 
Let  the  apostle  explain:  "Those  who  have 
erred  concerning  the  faith." 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

A  more  particular  Exposition  of  1  Tim.  vi.  20. 

[53.]  But  it  is  worth  while  to  expound  the 
whole  of   that  passage   of   the    apostle  more 


.  im.  vi.  20. 


2   Prov.  ix.  16-1S. 


fully,  "O  Timothy,  keep  the  deposit,  avoid- 
ing profane  novelties  of  words." 

"O!  "  The  exclamation  implies  fore-know- 
ledge as  well  as  charity.  For  he  mourned  in 
anticipation  over  the  errors  which  he  foresaw. 
Who  is  the  Timothy  of  to-day,  but  either  gener- 
ally the  Universal  Church,  or  in  particular,  the 
whole  body  of  The  Prelacy,  whom  it  behoves 
either  themselves  to  possess  or  to  communicate 
to  others  a  complete  knowledge  of  religion? 
What  is  "Keep  the  deposit"?  "Keep  it," 
because  of  thieves,  because  of  adversaries, 
lest,  while  men  sleep,  they  sow  tares  over  that 
good  wheat  which  the  Son  of  Man  had  sown 
in  his  field.  "Keep  the  deposit."  What  is 
"The  deposit"?  That  which  has  been  in- 
trusted to  thee,  not  that  which  thou  hast 
thyself  devised :  a  matter  not  of  wit,  but  of 
learning;  not  of  private  adoption,  but  of 
public  tradition;  a  matter  brought  to  thee,  not 
put  forth  by  thee,  wherein  thou  art  bound  to  be 
not  an  author  but  a  keeper,  not  a  teacher 
but  a  disciple,  not  a  leader  but  a  follower. 
"Keep  the  deposit."  Preserve  the  talent  of 
Catholic  Faith  inviolate,  unadulterate.  That 
which  has  been  intrusted  to  thee,  let  it  con- 
tinue in  thy  possession,  let  it  be  handed 
on  by  thee.  Thou  hast  received  gold;  give 
gold  in  turn.  Do  not  substitute  one  thing 
for  another.  Do  not  for  gold  impudently 
substitute  lead  or  brass.  Give  real  gold,  not 
counterfeit. 

O  Timothy!  O  Priest!  O  Expositor!  O 
Doctor!  if  the  divine  gift  hath  qualified 
thee  by  wit,  by  skill,  by  learning,  be  thou  a 
Bazaleel  of  the  spiritual  tabernacle,3  engrave 
the  precious  gems  of  divine  doctrine,  fit  them 
in  accurately,  adorn  them  skilfully,  add  splen- 
dor, grace,  beauty.  Let  that  which  formerly 
was  believed,  though  imperfectly  apprehend- 
ed, as  expounded  by  thee  be  clearly  under- 
stood. Let  posterity  welcome,  understood 
through  thy  exposition,  what  antiquity  vener- 
ated without  understanding.  Yet  teach  still 
the  same  truths  which  thou  hast  learnt,  so  that 
though  thou  speakest  after  a  new  fashion,  what 
thou  speakest  may  not  be  new. 


CHAPTER     XXIII. 

On  Development  in  Religious  Knowledge. 

[54.]  But  some  one  will  say  perhaps, 
Shall  there,  then,  be  no  progress  in  Christ's 
Church?  Certainly;  all  possible  progress. 
For  what  being  is  there,  so  envious  of  men, 
so  full  of  hatred  to  God,  who  would  seek  to 
forbid  it?     Yet  on  condition  that  it   be   real 


3  Exod.  xxxi.  1,  etc. 


148 


VINCENT   OF   LfiRINS. 


progress,  not  alteration  of  the  faith.  For 
progress  requires  that  the  subject  be  enlarged 
in  itself,  alteration,  that  it  be  transformed 
into  something  else.  The  intelligence,  then, 
the  knowledge,  the  wisdom,  as  well  of  indi- 
viduals as  of  all,  as  well  of  one  man  as  of  the 
whole  Church,  ought,  in  the  course  of  ages 
and  centuries,  to  increase  and  make  much 
and  vigorous  progress;  but  yet  only  in  its 
own  kind ;  that  is  to  say,  in  the  same  doc- 
trine, in  the  same  sense,  and  in  the  same 
meaning. 

[55.]  The  growth  of  religion  in  the  soul 
must  be  analogous  to  the  growth  of  the  body, 
which,  though  in  process  of  years  it  is 
developed  and  attains  its  full  size,  yet 
remains  still  the  same.  There  is  a  wide  dif- 
erence  between  the  flower  of  youth  and  the 
maturity  of  age ;  yet  they  who  were  once  young 
are  still  the  same  now  that  they  have  become 
old,  insomuch  that  though  the  stature  and 
outward  form  of  the  individual  are  changed, 
yet  his  nature  is  one  and  the  same,  his  person 
is  one  and  the  same.  An  infant's  limbs  are 
small,  a  young  man's  large,  yet  the  infant 
and  the  young  man  are  the  same.  Men  when 
full  grown  have  the  same  number  of  joints 
that  they  had  when  children ;  and  if  there  be 
any  to  which  maturer  age  has  given  birth, 
these  were  already  present  in  embryo,  so 
that  nothing  new  is  produced  in  them  when 
old  which  was  not  already  latent  in  them 
when  children.  This,  then,  is  undoubtedly 
the  true  and  legitimate  rule  of  progress,  this 
the  established  and  most  beautiful  order  of 
growth,  that  mature  age  ever  develops  in  the 
man  those  parts  and  forms  which  the  wisdom 
of  the  Creator  had  already  framed  beforehand 
in  the  infant.  Whereas,  if  the  human  form 
were  changed  into  some  shape  belonging  to 
another  kind,  or  at  any  rate,  if  the  number  of 
its  limbs  were  increased  or  diminished,  the 
result  would  be  that  the  whole  body  would 
become  either  a  wreck  or  a  monster,  or,  at  the 
least,  would  be  impaired  and  enfeebled. 

[56.]  In  like  manner,  it  behoves  Christian 
doctrine  to  follow  the  same  laws  of  progress, 
so  as  to  be  consolidated  by  years,  enlarged  by 
time,  refined  by  age,  and  yet,  withal,  to  con- 
tinue uncorrupt  and  unadulterate,  complete 
and  perfect  in  all  the  measurement  of  its 
parts,  and,  so  to  speak,  in  all  its  proper 
members  and  senses,  admitting  no  change,  no 
waste  of  its  distinctive  property,  no  variation 
in  its  limits. 

[57.]  For  example:  Our  forefathers  in  the 
old  time  sowed  wheat  in  the  Church's  field. 
It  would  be  most  unmeet  and  iniquitous  if 
we,  their  descendants,  instead  of  the  genuine 
truth  of  corn,  should  reap  the  counterfeit 
error   of   tares.     This   rather   should   be  the 


result,  —  there  should  be  no  discrepancy  be- 
tween the  first  and  the  last.  From  doctrine 
which  was  sown  as  wheat,  we  should  reap,  in 
the  increase,  doctrine  of  the  same  kind  — 
wheat  also;  so  that  when  in  process  of  time 
any  of  the  original  seed  is  developed,  and 
now  flourishes  under  cultivation,  no  change 
may  ensue  in  the  character  of  the  plant. 
There  may  supervene  shape,  form,  variation 
in  outward  appearance,  but  the  nature  of  each 
kind  must  remain  the  same.  God  forbid  that 
those  rose-beds  of  Catholic  interpretation 
should  be  converted  into  thorns  and  thistles. 
God  forbid  that  in  that  spiritual  paradise 
from  plants  of  cinnamon  and  balsam  darnel 
and  wolfsbane  should  of  a  sudden  shoot 
forth. 

Therefore,  whatever  has  been  sown  by  the 
fidelity  of  the  Fathers  in  this  husbandry  of 
God's  Church,  the  same  ought  to  be  culti- 
vated and  taken  care  of  by  the  industry  of 
their  children,  the  same  ought  to  flourish  and 
ripen,  the  same  ought  to  advance  and  go  for- 
ward to  perfection.  For  it  is  right  that  those 
ancient  doctrines  of  heavenly  philosophy 
should,  as  time  goes  on,  be  cared  for, 
smoothed,  polished;  but  not  that  they  should 
be  changed,  not  that  they  should  be  maimed, 
not  that  they  should  be  mutilated.  They 
may  receive  proof,  illustration,  definiteness; 
but  they  must  retain  withal  their  complete- 
ness, their  integrity,  their  characteristic 
properties. 

[58.]  For  if  once  this  license  of  impious 
fraud  be  admitted,  I  dread  to  say  in  how 
great  danger  religion  will  be  of  being  utterly 
destroyed  and  annihilated.  For  if  any  one 
part  of  Catholic  truth  be  given  up,  another, 
and  another,  and  another  will  thenceforward 
be  given  up  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  the 
several  individual  portions  having  been 
rejected,  what  will  follow  in  the  end  but  the 
rejection  of  the  whole?  On  the  other  hand, 
if  what  is  new  begins  to  be  mingled  with 
what  is  old,  foreign  with  domestic,  profane 
with  sacred,  the  custom  will  of  necessity 
creep  on  universally,  till  at  last  the  Church 
will  have  nothing  left  untampered  with, 
nothing  unadulterated,  nothing  sound,  nothing 
pure ;  but  where  formerly  there  was  a  sanctuary 
of  chaste  and  undefiled  truth,  thenceforward 
there  will  be  a  brothel  of  impious  and  base 
errors.  May  God's  mercy  avert  this  wicked- 
ness from  the  minds  of  his  servants;  be  it 
rather  the  frenzy  of  the  ungodly. 

[59.]  But  the  Church  of  Christ,  the  careful 
and  watchful  guardian  of  the  doctrines  depos- 
ited in  her  charge,  never  changes  anything 
in  them,  never  diminishes,  never  adds,  does 
not  cut  off  what  is  necessary,  does  not  add 
what  is  superfluous,  does  not  lose  her  own, 


A    COMMONITORY. 


149 


does  not  appropriate  what  is  another's,  but 
while  dealing  faithfully  and  judiciously  with 
ancient  doctrine,  keeps  this  one  object  care- 
fully in  view,  —  if  there  be  anything  which 
antiquity  has  left  shapeless  and  rudimentary, 
to  fashion  and  polish  it,  if  anything  already 
reduced  to  shape  and  developed,  to  consoli- 
date and  strengthen  it,  if  any  already  ratified 
and  defined  to  keep  and  guard  it.  Finally, 
what  other  object  have  Councils  ever  aimed  at 
in  their  decrees,  than  to  provide  that  what 
was  before  believed  in  simplicity  should  in 
future  be  believed  intelligently,  that  what  was 
before  preached  coldly  should  in  future  be 
preached  earnestly,  that  what  was  before  prac- 
tised negligently  should  thenceforward  be 
practised  with  double  solicitude?  This,  I  say, 
is  what  the  Catholic  Church,  roused  by  the 
novelties  of  heretics,  has  accomplished  by  the 
decrees  of  her  Councils, — this,  and  nothing 
else,  —  she  has  thenceforward  consigned  to 
posterity  in  writing  what  she  had  received 
from  those  of  olden  times  only  by  tradition, 
comprising  a  great  amount  of  matter  in  a  few 
words,  and  often,  for  the  better  understanding, 
designating  an  old  article  of  the  faith  by  the 
characteristic  of  a  new  name.1 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Continuation  of  the  Exposition  of  1  Tim.  vi.  20. 

[60.]  But  let  us  return  to  the  apostle. 
"O  Timothy,"  he  says,  "Guard  the  deposit, 
shunning  profane  novelties  of  words." 
"  Shun  them  as  you  would  a  viper,  as  you 
would  a  scorpion,  as  you  would  a  basilisk,  lest 
they  smite  you  not  only  with  their  touch,  but 
even  with  their  eyes  and  breath. "  What  is  "  to 
shun  "  ?  Not  even  to  eat 2  with  a  person  of  this 
sort.  What  is  "  shun  "  ?  "  If  anyone,"  says  St. 
John,  "come  to  you  and  bring  not  this  doc- 
trine." What  doctrine?  What  but  the  Catholic 
and  universal  doctrine,  which  has  continued 
one  and  the  same  through  the  several  succes- 
sions of  ages  by  the  uncorrupt  tradition  of 
the  truth,  and  so  will  continue  for  ever —  "  Re- 
ceive him  not  into  your  house,  neither  bid  him 
Godspeed,  for  he  that  biddeth  him  Godspeed 
communicates  with  him  in  his  evil  deeds."8 

[61.]  "Profane  novelties  of  words." 
What  words  are  these?  Such  as  have  noth- 
ing sacred,  nothing  religious,  words  utterly 
remote  from  the  inmost  sanctuary  of  the 
Church,  which  is  the  temple  of  God.  "  Pro- 
fane novelties  of  words,"  that  is,  of  doctrines, 


1  For  instance,  the  proper  Deity  of  our  Blessed  Lord  by  the 
word  "  Homousios,"  consubstantial,  of  one  substance,  essence, 
nature. 

2  Cor.  v.  11. 

3  2  John  10 


subjects,  opinions,  such  as  are  contrary  to 
antiquity  and  the  faith  of  the  olden  time. 
Which  if  they  be  received,  it  follows  neces- 
sarily that  the  faith  of  the  blessed  fathers  is 
violated  either  in  whole,  or  at  all  events  in 
great  part;  it  follows  necessarily  that  all  the 
faithful  of  all  ages,  all  the  saints,  the  chaste, 
the  continent,  the  virgins,  all  the  clergy, 
Deacons  and  Priests,  so  many  thousands 
of  Confessors,  so  vast  an  army  of  martyrs,  . 
such  multitudes  of  cities  and  of  peoples,  so 
many  islands,  provinces,  kings,  tribes,  king- 
doms, nations,  in  a  word,  almost  the  whole 
earth,  incorporated  in  Christ  the  Head, 
through  the  Catholic  faith,  have  been  ignorant 
for  so  long  a  tract  of  time,  have  been  mis- 
taken, have  blasphemed,  have  not  known  what 
to  believe,  what  to  confess. 

[62.]  "  Shun  prof ane  novelties  of  words," 
which  to  receive  and  follow  was  never  the 
part  of  Catholics;  of  heretics  always  was. 
In  sooth,  what  heresy  ever  burst  forth  save 
under  a  definite  name,  at  a  definite  place,  at 
a  definite  time?  Who  ever  originated  a  heresy 
that  did  not  first  dissever  himself  from  the 
consentient  agreement  of  the  universality  and 
antiquity  of  the  Catholic  Church?  '  That  this 
is  so  is  demonstrated  in  the  clearest  way  by 
examples.  For  who  ever  before  that  profane 
Pelagius 4  attributed  so  much  antecedent 
strength  to  Free-will,  as  to  deny  the  necessity 
of  God's  grace  to  aid  it  towards  good  in  every 


i  Pelagius,  a  monk,  a  Briton  by  birth,  but  resident  in  Rome, 
where  by  the  strictness  of  his  life  he  had  acquired  a  high  reputation 
for  sanctity,  was  led,  partly  perhaps  by  opposition  to  St.  Augustine's 
teaching  on  the  subject  of  election  and  predestination,  partly  by 
indignation  at  the  laxity  of  professing  Christians,  who  pleaded,  in 
excuse  for  their  low  standard,  the  weakness  of  human  nature,  to 
insist  upon  man's  natural  power,  and  to  deny  his  need  of  divine  grace. 

Pelagius  was  joined  by  another  monk,  Ccelestius,  a  younger  man, 
with  whom  about  the  year  410,  the  year  in  which  Rome  was  taken 
by  the  Goths,  he  began  to  teach  openly  and  in  public  what  before  he 
had  held  and  taught  in  private.  After  the  sack  of  Rome,  the  two 
friends  passed  over  into  Africa,  and  from  thence  Pelagius  proceeded 
to  Palestine,  where  he  was  in  two  separate  synods  acquitted  of  the 
charge  of  heresy,  which  had  been  brought  against  him  by  Orosius,  a 
Spanish  monk,  whom  Augustine  had  sent  for  that  purpose.  But  in 
416,  two  African  synods  condemned  his  doctrine,  and  Zosimus, 
bishop  of  Rome,  whom  he  had  appealed  to,  though  he  had  set  aside 
their  decision,  was  eventually  obliged  to  yield  to  the  firmness  with 
which  they  held  their  ground,  and  not  only  to  condemn  Pelagius, 
but  to  take  stringent  measures  against  his  adherents.  "In  418,  an- 
other African  synod  of  two  hundred  and  fourteen  bishops  passed  nine 
cano*ns,  which  were  afterwards  generally  accepted  throughout  the 
Church,  and  came  to  be  regarded  as  the  most  important  bulwark 
against  Pelagianism."  The  heresy  was  formally  condemned,  in  431, 
by  the  General  Council  of  Ephesus.     Canons  2  and  4. 

The  Pelagians  denied  the  corruption  of  man's  nature,  and  the 
necessity  of  divine  grace.  They  held  that  infants  new-born  are  in 
the  same  state  in  which  Adam  was  before  his  fall;  that  Adam's 
sin  injured  no  one  but  himself,  and  affected  his  posterity  no  other 
wise  than  by  the  evil  example  which  it  afforded;  they  held  also  that 
men  may  live  without  sin  if  they  will,  and  that  some  have  so  lived. 

Those  who  were  afterwards  called  semi-Pelagians  (they  belonged 
chiefly  to  the  churches  of  Southern  Gaul)  were  orthodox  except  in 
one  particular  :  In  their  anxiety  to  justify,  as  they  thought,  Gt.-d's 
dealings  with  man,  they  held  that  the  first  step  in  the  way  of  salva- 
tion must  be  from  ourselves :  we  must  ask  that  we  may  receive,  seek 
that  we  may  find,  knock  that  it  may  be  opened  to  us;  thenceforward 
in  every  stage  of  the  road,  our  strenuous  efforts  must  be  aided  by 
divine  grace.  They  did  not  understand,  or  did  not  grant,  that  to  that 
same  grace  must  be  referred  even  the  disposition  to  ask,  to  seek,  to 
knock.     See  Prosper's  letter  to  Augustine,  August.  Opera,  Tom.  x. 

The  semi- Pelagian  doctrine  was  condemned  in  the  second  Council 
of  Orange  (a.d.  529),  the  third  and  fifth  canons  of  which  are  directed 
against  it. 


150 


VINCENT    OF    LERINS. 


single  act?  Who  ever  before  his  monstrous 
disciple  Coelestius  denied  that  the  whole 
human  race  is  involved  in  the  guilt  of  Adam's 
sin?  Who  ever  before  sacrilegious  Arius 
dared  to  rend  asunder  the  unity  of  the 
Trinity?  Who  before  impious  Sabellius  was 
so  audacious  as  to  confound  the  Trinity  of 
the  Unity?  Who  before  cruellest  Novatian 
represented  God  as  cruel  in  that  He  had 
rather  the  wicked  should  die  than  that  he 
should  be  converted  and  live?  Who  before 
Simon  Magus,  who  was  smitten  by  the  apos- 
tle's rebuke,  and  from  whom  that  ancient  sink 
of  every  thing  vile  has  flowed  by  a  secret  con- 
tinuous succession  even  to  Priscillian  of  our 
own  time, — ■  who,  I  say,  before  this  Simon 
Magus,  dared  to  say  that  God,  the  Creator, 
is  the  author  of  evil,  that  is,  of  our  wicked- 
nesses, impieties,  flagitiousnesses,  inasmuch  as 
he  asserts  that  He  created  with  His  own  hands 
a  human  nature  of  such  a  description,  that  of 
its  own  motion,  and  by  the  impulse  of  its 
necessity-constrained  will,  it  can  do  nothing 
else,  can  will  nothing  else,  but  sin,  seeing 
that  tossed  to  and  fro,  and  set  on  fire  by 
the  furies  of  all  sorts  of  vices,  it  is  hurried 
away  by  unquenchable  lust  into  the  utmost 
extremes  of  baseness  ? 

[63.]  There  are  innumerable  instances  of 
this  kind,  which  for  brevity's  sake,  pass  over; 
by  all  of  which,  however,  it  is  manifestly 
and  clearly  shown,  that  it  is  an  established 
law,  in  the  case  of  almost  all  heresies, 
that  they  evermore  delight  in  profane  novel- 
ties, scorn  the  decisions  of  antiquity,  and, 
through  oppositions  of  science  falsely  so 
called,  make  shipwreck  of  the  faith.  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  the  sure  characteristic  of 
Catholics  to  keep  that  which  has  been  com- 
mitted to  their  trust  by  the  holy  Fathers,  to  con- 
demn profane  novelties,  and,  in  the  apostle's 
words,  once  and  again  repeated,  to  anathema- 
tize every  one  who  preaches  any  other  doctrine 
than  that  which  has  been  received.1 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Heretics    appeal   to   Scripture   that    they   may   more    easily 
succeed  in  deceiving. 

[64.]  Here,  possibly,  some  one  may  ask, 
Do  heretics  also  appeal  to  Scripture?  They 
do  indeed,  and  with  a  vengeance ;  for  you  may 
see  them  scamper  through  every  single  book 
of  Holy  Scripture,  —  through  the  books  of 
Moses,  the  books  of  Kings,  the  Psalms,  the 
Epistles,  the  Gospels,  the  Prophets.  Whether 
among  their  own  people,  or  among  strangers,  in 

1  Gal.  ii.  9. 


private  or  in  public,  in  speaking  or  in  writing, 
at  convivial  meetings,  or  in  tha  streets,  hardly 
ever  do  they  bring  forward  anything  of  their 
own  which  they  do  not  endeavour  to  shelter 
under  words  of  Scripture.  Read  the  works  of 
Paul  of  Samosata,  of  Priscillian,  of  Eunomius, 
of  Jovinian,  and  the  rest  of  those  pests,  and 
you  will  see  an  infinite  heap  of  instances, 
hardly  a  single  page,  which  does  not  bristle 
with  plausible  quotations  from  the  New  Tes- 
ment  or  the  Old. 

[65.]  But  the  more  secretly  they  conceal 
themselves  under  shelter  of  the  Divine  Law, 
so  much  the  more  are  they  to  be  feared  and 
guarded  against.  For  they  know  that  the  evil 
stench  of  their  doctrine  will  hardly  find  accept- 
ance with  any  one  if  it  be  exhaled  pure  and 
simple.  They  sprinkle  it  over,  therefore,  with 
the  perfume  of  heavenly  language,  in  order 
that  one  who  would  be  ready  to  despise  human 
error,  may  hesitate  to  condemn  divine  words. 
They  do,  in  fact,  what  nurses  do  when  they 
would  prepare  some  bitter  draught  for  chil- 
dren; they  smear  the  edge  of  the  cup  all 
round  with  honey,  that  the  unsuspecting 
child,  having  first  tasted  the  sweet,  may  have 
no  fear  of  the  bitter.  So  too  do  these  act, 
who  disguise  poisonous  herbs  and  noxious 
juices  under  the  names  of  medicines,  so  that 
no  one  almost,  when  he  reads  the  label,  sus- 
pects the  poison. 

[66.]  It  was  for  this  reason  that  the 
Saviour  cried,  "  Beware  of  false  prophets 
who  come  to  you  in  sheep's  clothing,  but 
inwardly  they  are  ravening  wolves."  2  What 
is  meant  by  "sheep's  clothing"?  What  but 
the  words  which  prophets  and  apostles  with 
the  guilelessness  of  sheep  wove  beforehand 
as  fleeces,  for  that  immaculate  Lamb  which 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world?  What  are 
the  ravening  wolves?  What  but  the  savage 
and  rabid  glosses  of  heretics,  who  continu- 
ally infest  the  Church's  folds,  and  tear  in 
pieces  the  flock  of  Christ  wherever  they  are 
able?  But  that  they  may  with  more  success- 
ful guile  steal  upon  the  unsuspecting  sheep, 
retaining  the  ferocity  of  the  wolf,  they  put  off 
his  appearance,  and  wrap  themselves,  so  to 
say,  in  the  language  of  the  Divine  Law,  as  in 
a  fleece,  so  that  one,  having  felt  the  softness 
of  wool,  may  have  no  dread  of  the  wolf's 
fangs.  But  what  saith  the  Saviour?  "By 
their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them ; "  that  is, 
when  they  have  begun  not  only  to  quote  those 
divine  words,  but  also  to  expound  them,  not 
as  yet  only  to  make  a  boast  of  them  as  on  their 
side,  but  also  to  interpret  them,  then  will  that 
bitterness,  that  acerbity,  that  rage,  be  under- 
stood; then  will  the  ill-savour  of  that  novel 


Matt. 


A    COMMONITORY. 


151 


poison  be  perceived,  then  will  those  profane 
novelties  be  disclosed,  then  may  you  see  first 
the  hedge  broken  through,  then  the  landmarks 
of  the  Fathers  removed,  then  the  Catholic 
faith  assailed,  then  the  doctrine  of  the  Church 
torn  in  pieces. 

[67.]  Such  were  they  whom  the  Apostle 
Paul  rebukes  in  his  Second  Epistle  to  the 
Corinthians,  when  he  says,  "For  of  this  sort 
are  false  apostles,  deceitful  workers,  trans- 
forming themselves  into  apostles  of  Christ."  1 
The  apostles  brought  forward  instances  from 
Holy  Scripture;  these  men  did  the  same. 
The  apostles  cited  the  authority  of  the 
Psalms;  these  men  did  so  likewise.  The 
apostles  brought  forward  passages  from  the 
prophets;  these  men  still  did  the  same.  But 
when  they  began  to  interpret  in  different 
senses  the  passages  which  both  had  agreed 
in  appealing  to,  then  were  discerned  the 
guileless  from  the  crafty,  the  genuine  from 
the  counterfeit,  the  straight  from  the  crooked, 
then,  in  one  word,  the  true  apostles  from 
the  false  apostles.  "And  no  wonder,"  he 
says,  "for  Satan  himself  transforms  himself 
into  an  angel  of  light.  It  is  no  marvel  then 
if  his  servants  are  transformed  as  the  servants 
of  righteousness."  Therefore,  according  to 
the  authority  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  as  often  as 
either  false  apostles  or  false  teachers  cite 
passages  from  the  Divine  Law,  by  means  of 
which,  misinterpreted,  they  seek  to  prop  up 
their  own  errors,  there  is  no  doubt  that  they 
are  following  the  cunning  devices  of  their 
father,  which  assuredly  he  would  never  have 
devised,  but  that  he  knew  that  where  he 
could  fraudulently  and  by  stealth  introduce 
error,  there  is  no  easier  way  of  effecting  his 
impious  purpose  than  by  pretending  the 
authority  of  Holy  Scripture. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Heretics,   in   quoting  Scripture,  follow   the   example   of    the 
Devil. 

[68.]  But  some  one  will  say,  What  proof 
have  we  that  the  Devil  is  wont  to  appeal  to 
Holy  Scripture?  Let  him  read  the  Gospels 
wherein  it  is  written,  "Then  the  Devil  took 
Him  (the  Lord  the  Saviour)  and  set  Him 
upon  a  pinnacle  of  the  Temple,  and  said  unto 
Him:  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  thyself 
down,  for  it  is  written,  He  shall  give  His 
angels  charge  concerning  thee,  that  they  may 
keep   thee    in   all  thy  ways:  In  their  hands 


1  2  Cor.  xi.  12. 


they  shall  bear  thee  up,  lest  perchance  thou 
dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone."  2  What  sort  of 
treatment  must  men,  insignificant  wretches  that 
they  are,  look  for  at  the  hands  of  him  who  as- 
sailed even  the  Lord  of  Glory  with  quotations 
from  Scripture?  "If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God," 
saith  he,  "cast  thyself  down."  Wherefore? 
"For,"  saith  he,  "it  is  written."  It  behoves 
us  to  pay  special  attention  to  this  passage  and 
bear  it  in  mind,  that,  warned  by  so  important 
an  instance  of  Evangelical  authority,  we  may 
be  assured  beyond  doubt,  when  we  find  peo- 
ple alleging  passages  from  the  Apostles  or 
Prophets  against  the  Catholic  Faith,  that  the 
Devil  speaks  through  their  mouths.  For  as 
then  the  Head  spoke  to  the  Head,  so  now 
also  the  members  speak  to  the  members,  the 
members  of  the  Devil  to  the  members  of 
Christ,  misbelievers  to  believers,  sacrilegious 
to  religious,  in  one  word,  Heretics  to  Catholics. 
[69.]  But  what  do  they  say?  "If  thou  be 
the  Son  of  God,  cast  thyself  down ; "  that  is,  If 
thou  wouldst  be  a  son  of  God,  and  wouldst 
receive  the  inheritance  of  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven,  cast  thyself  down ;  that  is,  cast  thy- 
self down  from  the  doctrine  and  tradition  of 
that  sublime  Church,  which  is  imagined  to  be 
nothing  less  than  the  very  temple  of  God.  And 
if  one  should  ask  one  of  the  heretics  who 
gives  this  advice,  How  do  you  prove?  What 
ground  have  you,  for  saying,  that  I  ought  to 
cast  away  the  universal  and  ancient  faith  of 
the  Catholic  Church?  he  has  the  answer 
ready,  "  For  it  is  written ;  "  and  forthwith  he 
produces  a  thousand  testimonies,  a  thousand 
examples,  a  thousand  authorities  from  the 
Law,  from  the  Psalms,  from  the  apostles,  from 
the  Prophets,  by  means  of  which,  interpreted 
on  a  new  and  wrong  principle,  the  unhappy 
soul  may  be  precipitated  from  the  height  of 
Catholic  truth  to  the  lowest  abyss  of  heresy. 
Then,  with  the  accompanying  promises,  the 
heretics  are  wont  marvellously  to  beguile  the 
incautious.  For  they  dare  to  teach  and 
promise,  that  in  their  church,  that  is,  in  the 
conventicle  of  their  communion,  there  is  a 
certain  great  and  special  and  altogether 
personal  grace  of  God,  so  that  whosoever 
pertain  to  their  number,  without  any  labour, 
without  any  effort,  without  any  industry,  even 
though  they  neither  ask,  nor  seek,  nor  knock, 
have  such  a  dispensation  from  God,  that, 
borne  up  by  angel  hands,  that  is,  preserved 
by  the  protection  of  angels,  it  is  impossible 
they  should  ever  dash  their  feet  against  a 
stone,  that  is,  that  they  should  ever  be 
offended.3 


2  Matt.  iv.  5,  etc. 

3  See  Appendix  II. 


152 


VINCENT   OF   LERINS. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

What  Rule  is  to  be  observed  in  the  Interpretation  of 
Scripture. 

[70.]  But  it  will  be  said,  If  the  words,  the 
sentiments,  the  promises  of  Scripture,  are 
appealed  to  by  the  Devil  and  his  disciples,  of 
whom  some  are  false  apostles,  some  false 
prophets  and  false  teachers,,  and  all  without 
exception  heretics,  what  are  Catholics  and  the 
sons  of  Mother  Church  to  do  ?  How  are  they  to 
distinguish  truth  from  falsehood  in  the  sacred 
Scriptures?  They  must  be  very  careful  to 
pursue  that  course  which,  in  the  beginning 
of  this  Commonitory,  we  said  that  holy  and 
learned  men  had  commended  to  us,  that  is 
to  say,  they  must  interpret  the  sacred  Canon 
according  to  the  traditions  of  the  Universal 
Church  and  in  keeping  with  the  rules  of 
Catholic  doctrine,  in  which  Catholic  and  Uni- 
versal Church,  moreover,  they  must  follow 
universality,  antiquity,  consent.  And  if  at 
any  time  a  part  opposes  itself  to  the  whole, 
novelty  to  antiquity,  the  dissent  of  one  or  a 
few  who  are  in  error  to  the  consent  of  all  or 
at  all  events  of  the  great  majority  of  Catho- 
lics, then  they  must  prefer  the  soundness  of 
the  whole  to  the  corruption  of  a  part;  in 
which  same  whole  they  must  prefer  the 
religion  of  antiquity  to  the  profaneness  of 
novelty;  and  in  antiquity  itself  in  like  manner, 
to  the  temerity  of  one  or  of  a  very  few  they 
must  prefer,  first  of  all,  the  general  decrees, 
if  such  there  be,  of  a  Universal  Council,  or 
if  there  be  no  such,  then,  what  is  next  best, 
they  must  follow  the  consentient  belief  of 
many  and  great  masters.  Which  rule  having 
been  faithfully,  soberly,  and  scrupulously 
observed,  we  shall  with  little  difficulty 
detect  the  noxious  errors  of  heretics  as  they 
arise. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


In  what  Way,  on  collating  the  consentient  opinions  of  the 
Ancient  Masters,  the  Novelties  of  Heretics  may  be  detected 
and  condemned. 


[71.]  And  here  I  perceive  that,  as  a  neces- 
sary sequel  to  the  foregoing,  I  ought  to  show 
by  examples  in  what  way,  by  collating  the 
consentient  opinions  of  the  ancient  masters, 
the  profane  novelties  of  heretics  may  be  de- 
tected and  condemned.  Yet  in  the  investi- 
gation of  this  ancient  consent  of  the  holy 
Fathers  we  are  to  bestow  our  pains  not  on 
every  minor  question  of  the  Divine  Law,  but 
only,  at  all  events  especially,  where  the  Rule 


of  Faith  is  concerned.  Nor  is  this  way  of 
dealing  with  heresy  to  be  resorted  to  always, 
or  in  every  instance,  but  only  in  the  case  of 
those  heresies  which  are  new  and  recent,  and 
that  on  their  first  arising,  before  they  have 
had  time  to  deprave  the  Rules  of  the  Ancient 
Faith,  and  before  they  endeavour,  while  the 
poison  spreads  and  diffuses  itself,  to  corrupt 
the  writings  of  the  ancients.  But  heresies 
already  widely  diffused  and  of  old  standing  are 
by  no  means  to  be  thus  dealt  with,  seeing  that 
through  lapse  of  time  they  have  long  had 
opportunity  of  corrupting  the  truth.  And 
therefore,  as  to  the  more  ancient  schisms  or 
heresies,  we  ought  either  to  confute  them,  if 
need  be,  by  the  sole  authority  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, or  at  any  rate,  to  shun  them  as  having 
been  already  of  old  convicted  and  condemned 
by  universal  councils  of  the  Catholic  Priest- 
hood. 

[72.]  Therefore,  as  soon  as  the  corruption 
of  each  mischievous  error  begins  to  break 
forth,  and  to  defend  itself  by  filching  certain 
passages  of  Scripture,  and  expounding  them 
fraudulently  and  deceitfully,  forthwith,  the 
opinions  of  the  ancients  in  the  interpretation 
of  the  Canon  are  to  be  collected,  whereby  the 
novelty,  and  consequently  the  profaneness, 
whatever  it  may  be,  that  arises,  may  both  with- 
out any  doubt  be  exposed,  and  without  any  ter- 
giversation be  condemned.  But  the  opinions 
of  those  Fathers  only  are  to  be  used  for  com- 
parison, who  living  and  teaching,  holily, 
wisely,  and  with  constancy,  in  the  Catholic 
faith  and  communion,  were  counted  worthy 
either  to  die  in  the  faith  of  Christ,  or  to 
suffer  death  happily  for  Christ.  Whom  yet 
we  are  to  believe  on  this  condition,  that  that 
only  is  to  be  accounted  indubitable,  certain, 
established,  which  either  all,  or  the  more  part, 
have  supported  and  confirmed  manifestly, 
frequently,  persistently,  in  one  and  the  same 
sense,  forming,  as  it  were,  a  consentient 
council  of  doctors,  all  receiving,  holding, 
handing  on  the  same  doctrine.  But  whatso- 
ever a  teacher  holds,  other  than  all,  or  con- 
trary to  all,  be  he  holy  and  learned,  be  he  a 
bishop,  be  he  a  Confessor,  be  he  a  martyr, 
let  that  be  regarded  as  a  private  fancy  of  his 
own,  and  be  separated  from  the  authority  of 
common,  public,  general  persuasion,  lest,  after 
the  sacrilegious  custom  of  heretics  and  schis- 
matics, rejecting  the  ancient  truth  of  the  uni- 
versal Creed,  we  follow,  at  the  utmost  peril 
of  our  eternal  salvation,  the  newly  devised 
error  of  one  man. 

[73.]  Lest  any  one  perchance  should 
rashly  think  the  holy  and  Catholic  consent 
of  these  blessed  fathers  to  be  despised, 
the  Apostle  says,  in  the  First  Epistle  to  the 
Corinthians,  "God  hath  placed  some   in  the 


A   COMMONITORY. 


153 


Church,  first  Apostles,"  1of  whom  himself  was 
one;  " secondly  Prophets,"  such  as  Agabus, 
of  whom  we  read  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles ; 2 
"then  doctors,"  who  are  now  called  Hom- 
ilists,  Expositors,3  whom  the  same  apostle 
sometimes  calls  also  "Prophets,"  because  by 
them  the  mysteries  of  the  Prophets  are  opened 
to  the  people.  Whosoever,  therefore,  shall 
despise  these,  who  had  their  appointment  of 
God  in  His  Church  in  their  several  times 
and  places,  when  they  are  unanimous  in 
Christ,  in  the  interpretation  of  some  one 
point  of  Catholic  doctrine,  despises  not  man, 
but  God,  from  whose  unity  in  the  truth, 
lest  any  one  should  vary,  the  same  Apostle 
earnestly  protests,  "  I  beseech  you,  brethren, 
that  ye  all  speak  the  same  thing,  and  that 
there  be  no  divisions  among  you,  but  that  ye 
be  perfectly  joined  together  in  the  same  mind 
and  in  the  same  judgment."4  But  if  any  one 
dissent  from  their  unanimous  decision,  let 
him  listen  to  the  words  of  the  same  apostle," 
"  God  is  not  the  God  of  dissension  but  of 
peace ; " 5  that  is,  not  of  him  who  departs 
from  the  unity  of  consent,  but  of  those  who 
remain  steadfast  in  the  peace  of  consent; 
"as,"  he  continues,  "I  teach  in  all  Churches 
of  the  saints,"  that  is,  of  Catholics,  which 
churches  are  therefore  churches  of  the  saints, 
because  they  continue  steadfast  in  the  com- 
munion of  the  faith. 

[74.]  And  lest  any  one,  disregarding  every 
one  else,  should  arrogantly  claim  to  be  lis- 
tened to  himself  alone,  himself  alone  to  be 
believed,  the  Apostle  goes  on  to  say,  "Did  the 
word  of  God  proceed  from  you,  or  did  it 
come  to  you  only?  "  And,  lest  this  should  be 
thought  lightly  spoken,  he  continues,  "  If  any 
man  seem  to  be  a  prophet  or  a  spiritual  person, 
let  him  acknowledge  that  the  things  which  I 
write  unto  you  are  the  Lord's  commands." 
As  to  which,  unless  a  man  be  a  prophet  or  a 
spiritual  person,  that  is,  a  master  in  spiritual 
matters,  let  him  be  as  observant  as  possible 
of  impartiality  and  unity,  so  as  neither  to 
prefer  his  own  opinions  to  those  of  every  one 
besides,  nor  to  recede  from  the  belief  of 
the  whole*  body.  Which  injunction,  whoso 
ignores,  shall  be  himself  ignored;6  that  is, 
he  who  either  does  not  learn  what  he  does 
not  know,  or  treats  with  contempt  what  he 
knows,  shall  be  ignored,  that  is,  shall  be 
deemed  unworthy  to  be  ranked  of  God  with 
those  who  are  united  to  each  other  by  faith, 
and  equalled  with  each  other  by  humility, 
than  which  I  cannot  imagine  a  more  terrible 
evil.     This  it  is  however  which,  according  to 


1  1  Cor.  xii.  27,  28.  *  Acts  xi.  28. 

3  "  Tractatores."     St.   Augustine's  Expository  Lectures  on  St. 
John's  Gospel  are  entitled  "  Tractatus." 

*  1  Cor.  i.  10.  6  1  Cor.  xiv.  33.  8  1  Cor.  xiv.  33. 


the  Apostle's  threatening,  we  see  to  have 
befallen  Julian  the  Pelagian,7  who  either  neg- 
lected to  associate  himself  with  the  belief 
of  his  fellow  Christians,  or  presumed  to  dis- 
sociate himself  from  it. 

[75.]  But  it  is  now  time  to  bring  forward  the 
exemplification  which  we  promised,  where  and 
how  the  sentences  of  the  holy  Fathers  have 
been  collected  together,  so  that  in  accordance 
with  them,  by  the  decree  and  authority  of  a 
council,  the  rule  of  the  Church's  faith  may  be 
settled.  Which  that  it  may  be  done  the  more 
conveniently,  let  this  present  Commonitory  end 
here,  so  that  the  remainder  which  is  to  follow 
may  be  begun  from  a  fresh  beginning. 

[The  Second  Book  of  the  Commonitory  is  lost.  Noth- 
ing of  it  remains  but  the  conclusion  :  in  other  words, 
the  recapitulation  which  follows-] 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Recapitulation. 

[76.]  This  being  the  case,  it  is  now  time 
that  we  should  recapitulate,  at  the  close  of 
this  second  Commonitory,  what  was  said  in 
that  and  in  the  preceding. 

We  said  above,  that  it  has  always  been  the 
custom  of  Catholics,  and  still  is,  to  prove 
the  true  faith  in  these  two  ways ;  first  by  the 
authority  of  the  Divine  Canon,  and  next  by 
the  tradition  of  the  Catholic  Chnrch.  Not 
that  the  Canon  alone  does  not  of  itself  suffice 
for  every  question,  but  seeing  that  the  more 
part,  interpreting  the  divine  words  according 
to  their  own  persuasion,  take  up  various  erro- 
neous opinions,  it  is  therefore  necessary  that 
the  interpretation  of  divine  Scripture  should 
be  ruled  according  to  the  one  standard  of 
the  Church's  belief,  especially  in  those  arti- 
cles on  which  the  foundations  of  all  Catholic 
doctrine  rest. 

[77.]  We  said  likewise,  that  in  the  Church 
itself  regard  must  be  had  to  the  consentient 
voice  of  universality  equally  with  that  of 
antiquity,  lest  we  either  be  torn  from  the 
integrity  of  unity  and  carried  away  to  schism, 
or  be  precipitated  from  the  religion  of  an- 
tiquity into  heretical  novelties.  We  said, 
further,  that  in  this  same  ecclesiastical 
antiquity  two  points  are  very  carefully  and 
earnestly  to  be   held   in  view  by  those  who 


7  Julian,  bishop  of  Eclanum,  a  small  town  in  Apulia  or  Campania, 
was  one  of  nineteen  bishops,  who,  having  espoused  the  cause  of 
Pelagius,  and  having  refused  to  subscribe  a  circular  letter  issued  by 
Zosimus,  now  adopting  the  decisions  of  the  African  Council  (see 
above  note  p.  147)  were  deposed  and  banished.  St.  Augustine  at  his 
death  left  a  work  against  Julian  unfinished,  "  Opus  imperfectum 
contra  Julianum"  in  which  he  had  been  engaged  till  the  sickness 
of  which  he  died  put  an  end  to  his  labours. 


T54 


VINCENT    OF    LERINS. 


would  keep  clear  of  heresy:  first,  they  should 
ascertain  whether  any  decision  has  been 
given  in  ancient  times  as  to  the  matter  in 
question  by  the  whole  priesthood  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  with  the  authority  of  a 
General  Council :  and,  secondly,  if  some  new 
question  should  arise  on  which  no  such  de- 
cision has  been  given,  they  should  then  have 
recourse  to  the  opinions  of  the  holy  Fathers, 
of  those  at  least,  who,  each  in  his  own  time 
and  place,  remaining  in  the  unity  of  com- 
munion and  of  the  faith,  were  accepted  as 
approved  masters;  and  whatsoever  these  may 
be  found  to  have  held,  with  one  mind  and,  with 
one  consent,  this  ought  to  be  accounted  the 
true  and  Catholic  doctrine  of  the  Church, 
without  any  doubt  or  scruple. 

[78.]  Which  lest  we  should  seem  to  allege 
presumptuously  on  our  own  warrant  rather 
than  on  the  authority  of  the  Church,  we 
appealed  to  the  example  of  the  holy  council 
which  some  three  years  ago  was  held  at 
Ephesus  1  in  Asia,  in  the  consulship  of  Bassus 
and  Antiochus,  where,  when  question  was 
raised  as  to  the  authoritative  determining  of 
rules  of  faith,  lest,  perchance,  any  profane 
novelty  should  creep  in,  as  did  the  perversion 
of  the  truth  at  Ariminum,2  the  whole  body 
of  priests  there  assembled,  nearly  two  hun- 
dred in  number,  approved  of  this  as  the 
most  Catholic,  the  most  trustworthy,  and  the 
best  course,  viz.,  to  bring  forth  into  the  midst 
the  sentiments  of  the  holy  Fathers,  some  of 
whom  it  was  well  known  had  been  martyrs, 
some  Confessors,  but  all  had  been,  and  con- 
tinued to  the  end  to  be,  Catholic  priests,  in 
order  that  by  their  consentient  determina- 
tion the  reverence  due  to  ancient  truth  might 
be  duly  and  solemnly  confirmed,  and  the 
blasphemy  of  profane  novelty  condemned. 
Which  having  been  done,  that  impious  Nes- 
torius  was  lawfully  and  deservedly  adjudged 
to  be  opposed  to  Catholic  antiquity,  and  con- 
trariwise blessed  Cyril  to  be  in  agreement 
with  it.  And  that  nothing  might  be  wanting 
to  the  credibility  of  the  matter,  we  recorded  the 
names  and  the  number  (though  we  had  for- 
gotten the  order)  of  the  Fathers,  according 
to  whose  consentient  and  unanimous  judg- 
ment, both  the  sacred  preliminaries  of  judi- 
cial procedure  were  expounded,  and  the  rule 
of  divine  truth  established.  Whom,  that  we 
may  strengthen  our  memory,  it  will  be  no 
superfluous  labour  to  mention  again  here 
also. 


1  The  Council  of  Ephesus,  summoned  by  the  Emperor  Theodo- 
sius  to  meet  at  Whitsuntide,  431  (June  7),  held  its  first  sitting  on 
June  22,  in  the  Church  of  St.  Mary,  where  the  blessed  Virgin  was 
believed  to  have  been  buried. 

2  See  note  above,  p.  131,  a.  3. 


CHAPTR    XXX. 

The  Council  of  Ephesus. 

[79.]  These  then  are  the  men  whose  writ 
ings,  whether  as  judges  or  as  witnesses,  were 
recited  in  the  Council:  St.  Peter,  bishop  of 
Alexandria,  a  most  excellent  Doctor  and  most 
blessed  martyr,  Saint  Athanasius,  bishop  of 
the  same  city,  a  most  faithful  Teacher,  and 
most  eminent  Confessor,  Saint  Theophilus, 
also  bishop  of  the  same  city,  a  man  illus- 
trious for  his  faith,  his  life,  his  knowl- 
edge, whose  successor,  the  revered  Cyril, 
now3  adorns  the  Alexandrian  Church.  And 
lest  perchance  the  doctrine  ratified  by  the 
Council  should  be  thought  peculiar  to  one 
city  and  province,  there  were  added  also 
those  lights  of  Cappadocia,  St.  Gregory  of 
Nazianzus,  bishop  and  Confessor,  St.  Basil 
of  Caesarea  in  Cappadocia,  bishop  and  Con- 
fessor, and  the  other  St.  Gregory,  St.  Gregory 
of  Nyssa,  for  his  faith,  his  conversation, 
his  integrity,  and  his  wisdom,  most  worthy 
to  be  the  brother  of  Basil.  And  lest  Greece 
or  the  East  should  seem  to  stand  alone,  to 
prove  that  the  Western  and  Latin  world 
also  have  always  held  the  same  belief,  there 
were  read  in  the  Council  certain  Epistles 
of  St.  Felix,  martyr,  and  St.  Julius,  both 
bishops  of  Rome.  And  that  not  only  the 
Head,  but  the  other  parts,  of  the  world  also 
might  bear  witness  to  the  judgment  of  the 
council,  there  was  added  from  the  South  the 
most  blessed  Cyprian,  bishop  of  Carthage  and 
martyr,  and  from  the  North  St.  Ambrose, 
bishop  of  Milan. 

[80.]    These  all    then,   to  the  sacred  num- 
ber of  the  decalogue,4  were  produced  at  Eph- 


3  This  marks  Vincentius's  date  within  very  narrow  limits,  viz. 
after  the  Council  of  Ephesus,  and  before  Cyril's  death.  Cyril  died 
in  444-. 

4  Vincentius's  copy  of  the  acts  of  the  Council  appears  to  have  con- 
tained extracts  from  no  more  than  ten  Fathers.  But  the  Fathers 
from  whose  writings  extracts  were  read  were  twelve  in  number;  the 
two  omitted  by  Vincentius  being  Atticus,  bishop  of  Constantinople, 
and  Amphilochius,  bishop  of  Iconium.  In  Labbe's  Concilia,  where 
the  whole  are  given,  it  is  remarked  that  in  one  manuscript  the  two 
last  mentioned  occupy  a  different  place  from  the  other*. 

Dean  Milman  {Latin  Christianity,  vol.  1,  p.  164)  speaks  of  the 
passages  read,  "  as  of  very  doubtful  bearing  on  the  question  raised  by 
Nestorius."  It  is  true  only  two,  those  from  Athanasius  and  Gregory 
Nazianzen,  contain  the  crucial  term  "  Theotocos  "  but  all  express  the 
truth  which  "Theotocos"  symbolizes.  That  the  word  was  not  of 
recent  introduction,  Bishop  Pearson  {Creed,  Art.  3)  shows  by  quota- 
tions from  other  writers  besides  those  produced  at  the  Council,  going 
back  as  far  as  to  Origen. 

The  Fathers  cited  may  certainly  be  said  to  fulfil  to  some  extent 
Vincentius's  requirement  of  universality.  They  represent  the  teach- 
ing of  Alexandria,  Rome,  Carthage,  Milan,  Constantinople,  and  Asia 
Minor;  but  his  appeal  would  hare  been  more  to  his  purpose  if  antiq- 
uity had  been  more  expressly  represented.  With  the  exception  of 
Cyprian,  all  the  passages  cited  were  from  writers  of  comparatively 
recent  date  at  the  time,  though,  as  Vincentius  truly  remarks,  others 
might  have  been  produced. 

Petavius  {De  Incarn.  1.  xiv.  c.  15),  in  defending  the  cultus  of  the 
blessed  Virgin  and  of  the  saints  generally,  lays  much  stress  on  this 
omission  of  citations  from  earlier  Fathers  at  the  Council,  as  he  does 
'also  on  similar  omissions  in  the  case  of  the  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth 


A   COMMONITORY. 


J55 


esus  as  doctors,  councillors,  witnesses,  judges. 
And  that  blessed  council  holding  their  doc- 
trine, following  their  counsel,  believing  their 
witness,  submitting  to  their  judgment  without 
haste,  without  foregone  conclusion,  without 
partiality,  gave  their  determination  concerning 
the  Rules  of  Faith.  A  much  greater  number 
of  the  ancients  might  have  been  adduced;  but 
it  was  needless,  because  neither  was  it  fit  that 
the  time  should  be  occupied  by  a  multitude  of 
witnesses,  nor  does  any  one  suppose  that  those 
ten  were  really  of  a  different  mind  from  the 
rest  of  their  colleagues. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

The   Constancy   of   the   Ephesine    Fathers   in   driving   away 
Novelty  and  maintaining  Antiquity. 

[8 1.]  After  the  preceding  we  added  also 
the  sentence  of  blessed  Cyril,  which  is  con- 
tained in  these  same  Ecclesiastical  Proceed- 
ings. For  when  the  Epistle  of  Capreolus,1 
bishop  of  Carthage,  had  been  read,  wherein  he 
earnestly  intreats  that  novelty  may  be  driven 
away  and  antiquity  maintained,  Cyril  made 
and  carried  the  proposal,  which  it  may  not  be 
out  of  place  to  insert  here :  For  says  he,  at  the 
close  of  the  proceedings,  "Let  the  Epistle  of 
Capreolus  also,  the  reverend  and  very  reli- 
gious bishop  of  Carthage,  which  has  been  read, 
be  inserted  in  the  acts.  His  mind  is  obvi- 
ous, for  he  intreats  that  the  doctrines  of  the 
ancient  faith  be  confirmed,  such  as  are 
novel,  wantonly  devised,  and  impiously  pro- 
mulgated, reprobated  and  condemned."  All 
the  bishops  cried  out,  "These  are  the  words 
of  all;  this  we  all  say,  this  we  all  desire." 
What  mean  "the  words  of  all,"  what  mean 
"the  desires  of  all,"  but  that  what  has 
been  handed  down  from  antiquity  should  be 
retained,  what  has  been  newly  devised,  re- 
jected with  disdain? 

[82.]  Next  we  expressed  our  admiration  of 
the  humility  and   sanctity  of   that   Council, 


Councils,  with  what  object  is  sufficiently  obvious.  Bishop  Bull 
points  out  Petavius's  disposition  to  disparage  or  misrepresent  the 
teaching  of  the  earlier  Fathers,  in  another  and  still  more  important 
instance.     (De/ens.  Fid.  Alic.)  Introd.  §  8. 

1  The  letter  of  Capreolus  is  given  in  Labbe's  Concilia,  vol.  3,  col. 
.  J29  sqq.  The  Emperor  Theodosius  had  written  to  Augustine,  requir- 
ing his  presence  at  the  Council  which  he  had  summoned  to  meet  at 
Ephesus  in  the  matter  of  Nestorius.  But  Augustine  having  died 
while  the  letter  was  on  its  way,  it  was  brought  to  Capreolus,  bishop 
of  Carthage  and  Metropolitan.  Capreolus  would  have  summoned  a 
meeting  of  the  African  bishops,  that  they  might  appoint  a  delegate  to 
represent  them  at  the  Council ;  but  the  presence  of  the  hostile  Van- 
dals, who  were  laying  waste  the  country  in  all  directions,  made  it 
impossible  for  the  bishops  to  travel  to  any  place  of  meeting.  Cap- 
reolus therefore  could  do  no  more  than  send  his  deacon  Besula  to 
represent  him  and  the  African  Church,  bearing  with  him  the  letter 
referred  to  in  the  text.  The  letter,  after  having  been  read  before  the 
Council,  both  in  the  original  Latin  and  in  a  Greek  translation,  was, 
on  the  motion  of  Cyril,  inserted  in  the  acts. 


such  that,  though  the  number  of  priests  was 
so  great,  almost  the  more  part  of  them  metro- 
politans, so  erudite,  so  learned,  that  almost 
all  were  capable  of  taking  part  in  doctrinal 
discussions,  whom  the  very  circumstance  of 
their  being  assembled  for  the  purpose,  might 
seem  to  embolden  to  make  some  determi- 
nation on  their  own  authority,  yet  they  inno- 
vated nothing,  presumed  nothing,  arrogated 
to  themselves  absolutely  nothing,  but  used 
all  possible  care  to  hand  down  nothing  to 
posterity  but  what  they  had  themselves  re- 
ceived from  their  Fathers.  And  not  only 
did  they  dispose  satisfactorily  of  the  matter 
presently  in  hand,  but  they  also  set  an  ex- 
ample to  those  who  should  come  after  them, 
how  they  also  should  adhere  to  the  determi- 
nations of  sacred  antiquity,  and  condemn  the 
devices  of  profane  novelty. 

[83.]  We  inveighed  also  against  the  wicked 
presumption  of  Nestorius  in  boasting  that 
he  was  the  first  and  the  only  one  who  under- 
stood holy  Scripture,  and  that  all  those 
teachers  were  ignorant,  who  before  him  had 
expounded  the  sacred  oracles,  forsooth,  the 
whole  body  of  priests,  the  whole  body  of  Con- 
fessors and  martyrs,  of  whom  some  had  pub- 
lished commentaries  upon  the  Law  of  God, 
others  had  agreed  with  them  in  their  com- 
ments, or  had  acquiesced  in  them.  In  a  word, 
he  confidently  asserted  that  the  whole  Church 
was  even  now  in  error,  and  always  had  been  in 
error,  in  that,  as  it  seemed  to  him,  it  had 
followed,  and  was  following,  ignorant  and 
misguided   teachers. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

The  zeal  of  Celestine  and  Sixtus,  bishops  of  Rome,  in  oppos- 
ing Novelty. 

[84.]  The  foregoing  would  be  enough  and 
very  much  more  than  enough,  to  crush  and 
annihilate  every  profane  novelty.  But  yet 
that  nothing  might  be  wanting  to  such  com- 
pleteness of  proof,  we  added,  at  the  close, 
the  twofold  authority  of  the  Apostolic  See, 
first,  that  of  holy  Pope  Sixtus,  the  venerable 
prelate  who  now  adorns  the  Roman  Church ; 
and  secondly  that  of  his  predecessor,  Pope 
Celestine  of  blessed  memory,  which  same  we 
think  it  necessary  to  insert  here  also. 

Holy  Pope  Sixtus2  then  says  in  an  Epistle 
which  he  wrote  on  Nestorius's  matter  to  the 
bishop  of  Antioch,  "Therefore,  because,  as 
the  Apostle  says,  the  faith  is  one,  — evidently 
the  faith  which  has  obtained  hitherto,  —  let 


2  Sixtus   III.      See    the   Epistle    in   Labbe's    Concilia,   T. 
Col.  1262. 


156 


VINCENT   OF   LfiRINS. 


us  believe  the  things  that  are  to  be  said,  and 
say  the  things  that  are  to  be  held."  What 
are  the  things  that  are  to  be  believed  and  to 
be  said?  He  goes  on:  "Let  no  license  be 
allowed  to  novelty,  because  it  is  not  fit  that 
any  addition  should  be  made  to  antiquity. 
Let  not  the  clear  faith  and  belief  of  our  fore- 
fathers be  fouled  by  any  muddy  admixture." 
A  truly  apostolic  sentiment!  He  enhances 
the  belief  of  the  Fathers  by  the  epithet  of 
clearness;  profane  novelties  he  calls  muddy. 

[85.]  Holy  Pope  Celestine  also  expresses 
himself  in  like  manner  and  to  the  same 
effect.  For  in  the  Epistle  which  he  wrote  to 
the  priests  of  Gaul,  charging  them  with  con- 
nivance with  error,  in  that  by  their  silence 
they  failed  in  their  duty  to  the  ancient 
faith,  and  allowed  profane  novelties  to  spring 
up,  he  says :  "  We  are  deservedly  to  blame  if 
we  encourage  error  by  silence.  Therefore 
rebuke  these  people.  Restrain  their  liberty 
of  preaching."  But  here  some  one  may 
doubt  who  they  are  whose  liberty  to  preach 
as  they  list  he  forbids, — the  preachers  of 
antiquity  or  the  devisers  of  novelty.  Let 
himself  tell  us;  let  himself  resolve  the 
reader's  doubt.  For  he  goes  on:  "If  the 
case  be  so  (that  is,  if  the  case  be  so  as 
certain  persons  complain  to  me  touching  your 
cities  and  provinces,  that  by  your  hurtful 
dissimulation  you  cause  them  to  consent  to 
certain  novelties),  if  the  case  be  so,  let 
novelty  cease  to  assail  antiquity."  This, 
then,  was  the  sentence  of  blessed  Celestine, 
not  that  antiquity  should  cease  to  subvert  nov- 
elty, but  that  novelty  should  cease  to  assail 
antiquity.2 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

The  Children  of  the  Catholic  Church  ought  to  adhere  to  the 
Faith  of  their  Fathers  and  die  for  it. 

[86.]  Whoever  then  gainsays  these  Apos- 
tolic and  Catholic  determinations,  first  of  all 
necessarily  insults  the  memory  of  holy  Celes- 
tine, who  decreed  that  novelty  should  cease 
to  assail  antiquity;  and  in  the  next  place  sets 
at  naught  the  decision  of  holy  Sixtus,  whose 
sentence  was,  "Let  no  license  be  allowed  to 
novelty,  since  it  is  not  fit  that  any  addition 
be  made  to  antiquity;"  moreover,  he  con- 
temns the  determination  of  blessed  Cyril, 
who   extolled  with   high  praise   the    zeal    of 


1  Celestine's  letter  will  be  found  in  the  appendix  to  Vol.  x.,  Part 
II.,  of  St.  Augustine's  Works,  col.  2403,  Paris,  1838.  See  the 
remarks  on  Vincentius's  mode  of  dealing  with  Celestine's  letter, 
Appendix  III. 


the  venerable  Capreolus,  in  that  he  would  fain 
have  the  ancient  doctrines  of  the  faith  con- 
firmed, and  novel  inventions  condemned;  yet 
more,  he  tramples  upon  the  Council  of 
Ephesus,  that  is,  on  the  decisions  of  the  holy 
bishops  of  almost  the  whole  East,  who  de- 
creed, under  divine  guidance,  that  nothing 
ought  to  be  believed  by  posterity  save  what 
the  sacred  antiquity  of  the  holy  Fathers, 
consentient  in  Christ,  had  held,  who  with  one 
voice,  and  with  loud  acclaim,  testified  that 
these  were  the  words  of  all,  this  was  the 
wish  of  all,  this  was  the  sentence  of  all, 
that  as  almost  all  heretics  before  Nestorius, 
despising  antiquity  and  upholding  novelty, 
had  been  condemned,  so  Nestorius,  the 
author  of  novelty  and  the  assailant  of  antiq- 
uity, should  be  condemned  also.  Whose 
consentient  determination,  inspired  by  the 
gift  of  sacred  and  celestial  grace,  whoever 
disapproves  must  needs  hold  the  profaneness 
of  Nestorius  to  have  been  condemned  un- 
justly; finally,  he  despises  as  vile  and 
worthless  the  whole  Church  of  Christ,  and  its 
doctors,  apostles,  and  prophets,  and  especially 
the  blessed  Apostle  Paul :  he  despises  the 
Church,  in  that  she  hath  never  failed  in 
loyalty  to  the  duty  of  cherishing  and  preserv- 
ing the  faith  once  for  all  delivered  to  her; 
he  despises  St.  Paul,  who  wrote,  "O  Timothy, 
guard  the  deposit  intrusted  to  thee,  shunning 
profane  novelties  of  words;"2  and  again,  "If 
any  man  preach  unto  you  other  than  ye  have 
received,  let  him  be  accursed."8  But  if 
neither  apostolical  injunctions  nor  ecclesias- 
tical decrees  may  be  violated,  by  which,  in 
accordance  with  the  sacred  consent  of  univer- 
sality and  antiquity,  all  heretics  always,  and, 
last  of  all,  Pelagius,  Ccelestius,  and  Nestorius 
have  been  rightly  and  deservedly  condemned, 
then  assuredly  it  is  incumbent  on  all  Catho- 
lics who  are  anxious  to  approve  themselves 
genuine  sons  of  Mother  Church,  to  adhere 
henceforward  to  the  holy  faith  of  the  holy 
Fathers,  to  be  wedded  to  it,  to  die  in  it; 
but  as  to  the  profane  novelties  of  profane  men 
—  to  detest  them,  abhor  them,  oppose  them, 
give  them  no  quarter. 

[87.]  These  matters,  handled  more  at  large 
in  the  two  preceding  Commonitories,  I  have 
now  put  together  more  briefly  by  way  of 
recapitulation,  in  order  that  my  memory,  to 
aid  which  I  composed  them,  may,  on  the  one 
hand,  be  refreshed  by  frequent  reference,  and, 
on  the  other,  may  avoid  being  wearied  by 
prolixity. 


2  Tim.  vi.  20. 


Gal. 


APPENDIX    I. 

Note  on  Section  41,  Page  143. 

There  is  so  close  an  agreement,  both  in  substance  and  often  in  the  form  of  expression, 
between  the  preceding  sections  (36-42)  and  the  so-called  Athanasian  Creed,  that  it  led 
Antelmi  {Nova  de  Symb.  Athanas.  Disquisitio,)  to  ascribe  that  document  to  Vincentius 
as  its  author,  and  to  suppose  that  in  it  we  have  the  fulfilment  of  the  promise  here  referred 
to.  If,  however,  the  Creed  was  the  work  of  Vincentius,  it  cannot  well  be  the  work  promised 
at  the  close  of  §  41,  for  Vincentius's  words  point  to  a  fuller  and  more  explicit  treatment  of 
the  subjects  referred  to,  whereas  in  the  Athanasian  Creed,  though  the  subjects  are  the  same, 
the  treatment  of  them  is  very  much  briefer  and  more  concise. 

Whoever  was  the  author  however,  if  it  was  not  Vincentius,  he  must  at  feast,  as  the  sub- 
joined extracts  seem  to  prove,  have  been  familiar  with  the  Commonitory,  as  also  with  St. 
Augustine's  writings,  of  which,  as  well  as  of  the  Commonitory,  the  Creed  bears  evident  traces. 

I  subjoin  the  following  instances  of  agreement  between  the  Commonitory  and  the 
Creed:  Antelmi  gives  several  others. 


COMMONITORY. 


ATHANASIAN    CREED. 


Unum  Christum  Jesum,  non  duos,  eum- 
demque  Deum  pariter  atque  Hominem  con- 
fitetur.      §  36. 


Est  ergo  Fides  recta,  ut  credamus  et  con- 
fiteamur,  quia  Dominus  noster  Jesus  Christus, 
Dei  Filius,  Deus  pariter  et  Homo  est.     v.  28. 


Alia    est   Persona   Patris,    alia    Filii, 
Spiritus  Sancti.      §  37. 


ilia       Alia   est   Persona   Patris, 
Spiritus  Sancti.      v.  5. 


alia   Filii,    alia 


Unus   idemque  Christus,    Deus   et    Homo,  Deus   ex    substantia    Patris,    ante    saecula 

Idem  Patri  et  eequalis  et  minor,  Idem  ex  Patre  genitus,     Homo     ex    substantia     Matris,     in 

ante  saecula  genitus,  Idem  in  saeculo  ex  Matre  sseculo  natus;  perfectus  Deus  perfectus  Homo, 

generatus,  perfectus    Deus,  perfectus    Homo.  vv.  29,  30. 
§  37- 

Unus,  non  corruptibili  nescio  qua  Divini-        Unus  omnino,  non  conversione  substantias, 
tatis  et  Humanitatis  confusione,  sed  integra  et    sed  unitate  Personae.      v.  34. 
singulari  quadam  unitate  Personae.     §  37. 

Sicut  Verbum  in  carne  caro,  ita  Homo  in        Unus,  non  conversione  Divinitatis  in  carne, 
Deo  Deus  est.     §  40.  sed  Adsumptione  Humanitatis  in  Deo.1  v.  33. 

1  This  is  probably  the  true  reading. 


157 


APPENDIX    II. 

Note  on  Section  69,  Page  149. 

That  Vincentius  had  Augustine  and  his  adherents  in  view  in  this  description  will  hardly  be 
doubted  by  any  one  who  will  compare  it  with  the  following  extracts,  the  first  from  Prosper's 
letter  to  Augustine,1  giving  him  an  account  of  the  complaints  made  against  his  doctrine  by 
the  Massilian  clergy;  the  second  from  St.  Augustine's  treatise,  "  De  dono  Perseveranti  "  2 
written  in  consequence  of  it. 

COMMONITORY,   §  69.  PROSPER   TO   AUGUSTINE. 

"Si  quis  interroget  quempiam  haereticorum  "The  Massilian  clergy  complain,"  he  says, 
sibi  talia  persuadentem,  Unde  probas,  unde  "  Romoveri  omnem  industriam,  tollique  vir- 
doces  quod  Ecclesiae  Catholicae  universalem  tutes,  si  Dei  constitutio  humanus  praeveniat 
et  antiquam  fidem  dimittere  debeam  ?     Statim   voluntates."     §3. 

ille,  '  Scriptum  est  enim,'  et  continuo  milk  tes-  Then  referring  to  the  teaching  of  the  Massil- 
timonia,  milk  exempla,  milk  auctoritates  parat  ians  themselves,  Prosper  continues, 
de  Lege,  de  Psalmis,  de  Apostolis,  de  Prophetis,  "  Ad  conditionemhanc  velint  uniuscujusque 
quibus,  novo  et  malo  more  interpretatis,  ex  hominis  pertinere,  ut  ad  cognitionem  Dei  et 
arce  Catholica  in  haereseos  barathrum  infelix  ad  obedientiam  mandatorum  Ejus  possit  suam 
anima  praecipitetur.  Audent  enim  polliceri  dirigere  voluntatem,  et  ad  hanc  gratiam  qua 
et  docere,  quod  in  Ecclesia  sua,  id  est,  in  in  Christo  renascimur  pervenire,  per  natu- 
communionis  suae  conventiculo,  magna  et  ralem  scilicet  facultatem,  petendo,  qticerendo, 
specialis  ac  plane  personalis  quaedam  sit   Dei  pulsando." 

gratia,  adeo  ut  sine  ullo  labore,  sine  ullo  Referring  to  the  line  of  argument  pursued 
studio,  sine  ulla  industria,  etiamsi  nee  petant,  by  himself  and  others  of  Augustine's  friends 
nee  qucerant,  nee  pulsent,  quicunque  illi  ad  and  the  Massilian  way  of  dealing  with  it,  he 
numerum  suum  pertinent,  tamen  ita  divinitus  says,  "  Et  cum  contra  eos  Scripta  Beatitudinis 
dispensentur,  ut,  angel icis  evecti  manibus,  id  tuas  validissimis  et  innutneris  testimoniis  Divi- 
est,  angelica  protectione  servati,  nunquam  naram  Seripturarum  instructa  proferimus, 
possint  offendere  ad  lapidem  pedem  suum,  id  ...  obstinationem  suam  vetustate  defendant" 
est,  nunquam  scandal izari."  §  3. 

St.  Augustine  replies  to  Prosper  not  in  an 
ordinary  letter,  but  in  two  short  Treatises, 
which  must  have  been  written  immediately 
after  its  receipt,  for  he  died  in  August  430, 
the  first  entitled  "De  Prasdestinatione  Sanc- 
torum," the  second  "  De  Dono  Perseverantiae." 
The  following  extract  is  from  the  latter: 
"  Attendant  ergo  quomodo  falluntur  qui  pu- 
tant  Esse  a  nobis,  non  dari  nobis,  ut  petamus, 
quceramus,  pulsemus.  Et  hoc  esse,  dicunt, 
quod  gratia  praeceditur  merito  nostro,  ut 
sequatur  ilia  cum  aceipimus  petentes,  et  inveni- 
mus  quczrentes,  aperiturque  pulsantibus.  Nee 
volunt  intelligere  etiam  hoc  divini  muneris 
esse  ut  oremus,  hoc  est,  petamus,  qutzramus, 
atque pulsamus. " —  De  Dono  Persev.  c.  23,  §  64. 

Vincentius's  language  is  in  keeping  with  that  of  others  of  St.  Augustine's  opponents,  as 
Cassian  and  Faustus,  extracts  from  whom  are  given  by  Noris;  only,  as  he  observes,  while 
Vincentius  uses  the  term  "heresy"  of  the  doctrine  impugned,  — they  are  content  to  use 
the  milder  term  "error."  —  Histor.  Pelag.  p.  246. 

1  Inter  Epistolas  S.  August.  Ep.  225.  Tom.  ii.  and  again  Tom.  x.  col.  1327.  '  Opera  ix.  col.  1S33. 

158 


APPENDIX    III. 

Note  on  Section  85,  Page  156. 

Celestine's  letter  was  addressed  to  certain  Bishops  of  Southern  Gaul,  who  are  particular- 
ized by  name. 

It  appears  that  Prosper  and  Hilary  had  made  a  journey  to  Rome,  where  they  then  were, 
for  the  purpose  of  complaining  to  Celestine  of  the  connivance  of  certain  bishops  of  South- 
ern Gaul  with  the  unsound  teaching  of  their  clergy.  They  complained  too  of  the  disre- 
spectful manner  in  which  these  same  clergy  treated  the  memory  of  Augustine,  then  recently 
deceased. 

Celestine  writes  to  these  bishops:  blames  their  connivance  with  a  fault,  which,  says  he, 
by  their  silence  they  make  their  own,  and  then  proceeds  to  charge  them,  as  in  the  passage 
quoted  in  the  text,  "Rebuke  these  people:  restrain  their  liberty  of  preaching.  If  the  case 
be  so,  let  novelty  cease  to  assail  antiquity,  let  restlessness  cease  to  disturb  the  Church's 
peace."  Then,  after  some  further  exhortation,  he  adds,  "We  cannot  wonder  at  their  thus 
assailing  the  living,  when  they  do  not  shrink  from  seeking  to  asperse  the  memory  of  the 
departed.  With  Augustine,  whom  all  men  everywhere  loved  and  honoured,  we  ever  held 
communion.  Let  a  stop  be  put  to  this  spirit  of  disparagement,  which  unhappily  is  on  the 
increase." 

The  manner  in  which  Vincentius  deals  with  this  letter  has  been  very  commonly  thought, 
and  with  reason,  to  indicate  a  Semipelagian  leaning.1  His  "si  ita  est,"  "if  the  case  be 
so,"  emphasized  by  being  repeated  again  and  again,  quite  in  an  excited  manner,  as  we 
should  say,  shows  an  evident  wish  to  shift  the  charge  of  novelty  from  those  against  whom  it 
had  been  brought,  and  fix  it  upon  the  opposite  party.  "Who  are  the  introducers  of  novelty? 
The  Massilians,  as  Prosper  represents  them,  or  their  calumniators?  Not  the  Massilians: 
they  notoriously  appeal  to  antiquity, — not  the  Massilians,  but  Prosper  and  the  rest  of 
Augustine's  followers." 

The  feeling  with  regard  to  Augustine,  on  the  part  of  the  Massilian  clergy,  as  indicated 
in  Celestine's  letter,  is  quite  in  accordance  with  the  animus  of  §  69  above.  See  the  note 
on  that  place,  and  see  Noris's  remarks,  pp.  246-248. 

1  E' g.  "  Hunc  locum  Vincentius  Lirinensis  sic  a  vero  sensu  contra  Prosperum  et  Hilarium  detorquet,  ut  ipse  haud  injuria  in  erroris 
Semipelagiani  suspicionem  veniat."  The  Benedictine  editor  of  St.  Augustine's  works  on  Celestine's  letter,  Tom.  x.  col.  2403.  To  the 
same  purpose,  among  others,  Card.  Norris,  Histor.  Pelag.,  246.  Vossius,  Histor.  Pelag.  Tillemont,  T.  xv.  pp.  145,  862. 
Neander,  Church  History,  iv.  p.  388. 

159 


THE  WORKS  OF  JOHN  CASSIAN. 


TRANSLATED, 


WITH    PROLEGOMENA,  PREFACES,  AND   NOTES, 


REV.  EDGAR   C.  S.  GIBSON,  M.A., 

PRINCIPAL   OF   THE   THEOLOGICAL   COLLEGE,  WELLS,  SOMERSET. 


CONTENTS. 


THE  INSTITUTES   OF  THE  CCENOBIA. 
BOOK  I. 

OF  THE  DRESS  OF  THE  MONKS. 

PAGE 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  the  monk's  girdle 201 

Chapter  II.  —  Of  the  monk's  robe 202 

Chapter  III.  — Of  the  hoods  of  the  Egyptians 202 

Chapter  IV.  —  Of  the  tunics  of  the  Egyptians 203 

Chapter  V.  —  Of  their  cords 203 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  their  capes 203 

Chapter  VII.  —  Of  the  sheepskin  and  the  goatskin 203 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Of  the  staff  of  the  Egyptians 203 

Chapter  IX.  —  Of  their  shoes 204 

Chapter  X.  — Of  the  modification  in  the  observances  which  may  be  permitted  in  accordance  with  the  char- 
acter of  the  climate  or  the  custom  of  the  district 204 

Chapter  XI.  —  Of  the  spiritual  girdle  and  its  mystical  meaning 204 


BOOK   II. 

OF   THE   CANONICAL   SYSTEM    OF   THE   NOCTURNAL   PRAYERS   AND   PSALMS. 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  the  canonical  system  of  the  nocturnal  prayers  and  Psalms. 205 

Chapter  II. — Of  the  difference  of  the  number  of  Psalms  appointed  to  be  sung  in  all  the  provinces 205 

Chapter  III.  —  Of  the  observance  of  one  uniform  rule  throughout  the  whole  of  Egypt,  and  of  the  election 

of  those  who  are  set  over  the  brethren 205 

Chapter  IV.  —  How  throughout  the  whole  of  Egypt  and  the  Thebaid  the  number  of   Psalms  is   fixed  at 

twelve ' 206 

Chapter  V.  —  How  the  fact  that  the  number  of  the  Psalms  was  to  be  twelve  was  received  from  the  teaching 

of  an  angel 206 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  the  custom  of  having  twelve  prayers 207 

Chapter  VII.  —  Of  their  method  of  praying 207 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Of  the  prayer  which  follows  the  Psalm 208 

Chapter  IX. — Of  the  characteristics  of  the  prayer,  the  fuller  treatment  of  which  is  reserved  for  the  Con- 
ferences of  the  Elders 208 

Chapter  X.  — Of  the  silence  and  conciseness  with  which  the  Collects  are  offered  up  by  the  Egyptians 209 

Chapter  XI.  — Of  the  system  according  to  which  the  Psalms  are  said  among  the  Egyptians 209 

Chapter  XII.  — Of  the  reason  why  while  one  sings  the  Psalms  the  rest  sit  down  during  the  service;   and  of 

the  zeal  with  which  they  afterwards  prolong  their  vigils  in  their  cells  till  daybreak 210 

Chapter  XIII.  — The  reason  why  they  are  not  allowed  to  go  to  sleep  after  the  night  service 2IO 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Of  the  way  in  which  they  devote  themselves  in  their  cells  equally  to  manual  labour  and  to 

prayer 211 

Chapter  XV. — Of  the  discreet  rule  by  which  every  one  must  retire  to  his  cell  after  the  close  of  the  prayers; 

and  of  the  rebuke  to  which  any  one  who  does  otherwise  is  subject 211 

Chapter  XVI.  —  How  no  one  is  allowed  to  pray  with  one  who  has  been  suspended  from  prayer 211 

Chapter  XVII.  —  How  he  who  rouses  them  for  prayer  ought  to  call  them  at  the  usual  time 212 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  How  they  do  not  kneel  from  the  evening  of  Saturday  till  the  evening  of  Sunday 212 


BOOK   III. 

OF   THE   CANONICAL   SYSTEM   OF   THE   DAILY   PRAYERS   AND   PSALMS. 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  the  services  of  the  Third,  Sixth,  and  Ninth  hours,  which  are  observed  in  the  regions  of 

Syria 212 

Chapter  II.  —  How  among  the  Egyptians  they  apply  themselves  all  daylong  to  prayer  and  Psalms  con- 
tinually with  the  addition  of  work,  without  distinction  of  hours 212 

163 


1 64 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Chapter  III. — How  throughout  all  the  East  the  services  of  Tierce,  Sext  and  None  are  ended  with  only 
three  Psalms  and  prayers  each;  and  the  reasons  why  these  spiritual  offices  are  assigned  more  particularly 
to  those  hours 213 

Chapter  IV.  —  How  the  Mattin  Office  was  not  appointed  by  an  ancient  tradition,  but  was  started  in  our  own 

day  for  a  definite  reason 215 

Chapter  V.  —  How  they  ought  not  to  go  back  to  bed  again  after  the  Mattin  prayers 215 

Chapter  VI.  —  How  no  change  was  made  by  the  Elders  in  the  ancient  system  of  Psalms  when  the  Mattin 

office  was  instituted 216 

Chapter  VII.  —  How  one  who  does  not  come  to  the  daily  prayer  before  the  end  of  the  first  Psalm  is  not 
allowed  to  enter  the  Oratory;  but  at  Nocturns  a  late  arrival  up  to  the  end  of  the  second  Psalm  can  be 
overlooked 216 

Chapter  VIII. — Of  the  Vigil  service  which  is  celebrated  on  the  evening  preceding  the  Sabbath;    of  its 

length,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  is  observed 216 

Chapter  IX.  —  The  reason  why  a  vigil  is  appointed  as  the  Sabbath  day  dawns,  and  why  a  dispensation  from 

fasting  is  enjoyed  on  the  Sabbath  all  through  the  East 217 

Chapter  X.  —  How  it  was  brought  about  that  they  fast  on  the  Sabbath  in  the  city 218 

Chapter  XI.  — Of  the  points  in  which  the  service  held  on  Sunday  differs  from  what  is  customary  on  other  days 

Chapter  XII. — Of  the  days  on  which,  when  supper  is  provided  for  the  brethren,  a  Psalm  is  not  said  as  they 

assemble  for  the  meal,  as  is  usual  at  dinner 218 


BOOK  IV. 

OF   THE   INSTITUTES   OF   THE    RENUNCIANTS. 

Chapter  I. — Of  the  training  of  those  who  renounce  this  world,  and  of  the  way  in  which  those  are  taught 

among  the  monks  of  Tabenna  and  the  Egyptians  who  are  received  into  the  monasteries 219 

Chapter  II.  — Of  the  way  in  which  among  them  men  remain  in  the  monasteries  even  to  extreme  old  age.  •  ••   219 

Chapter  III.  — Of  the  ordeal  by  which  one  who  is  to  be  received  in  the  monastery  is  tested 219 

Chapter  IV.  — The  reason  why  those  who  are  received  in  the  monastery  are  not  allowed  to  bring  anything  in 

with  them 219 

Chapter  V. — The  reason  why  those  who  give  up  the  world,  when  they  are  received  in  the  monasteries,  must 

lay  aside  their  own  clothes  and  be  clothed  in  others  by  the  Abbot 220 

Chapter  VI.  — The  reason  why  the  clothes  of  the  renunciants  with  which  they  joined  the  monastery  are  pre- 
served by  the  steward 220 

Chapter  VII.  — The  reason  why  those  who  are  admitted  to  a  monastery  are  not  permitted  to  mix  at  once  with 

the  congregation  of  the  brethren,  but  are  first  committed  to  the  guest  house 220 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Of  the  practices  in  which  the  juniors  are  first  exercised  that  they  may  become  proficient  in 

overcoming  all  their  desires 221 

Chapter  IX.  —  The  reason  why  the  juniors  are  enjoined   not  to  keep  back  any  of  their  thoughts  from  the 

seniors 221 

Chapter  X. — How  thorough  is  the  obedience  of  the  juniors  even  in  those  things  which  are   matters  of 

common  necessity 221 

Chapter  XI.  — The  kind  of  food  which  is  considered  the  greatest  delicacy  among  them. 222 

Chapter  XII.  —  How  they  leave  off  every  kind  of  work  at  the  sound  of  some  one  knocking  at  the  door,  in 

their  eagerness  to  answer  at  once 222 

Chapter  XIII.  —  How  wrong  it  is  considered  for  any  one  to  say  that  anything,  however  trifling,  is  his  own.  222 
Chapter  XIV.  —  How,  even  if  a  large  sum  of  money  is  amassed  by  the  labour  of  each,  still  no  one  may  ven- 
ture to  exceed  the  moderate  limit  of  what  is  appointed  as  adequate 222 

Chapter  XV.  —  Of  the  excessive  desire  of  possession  among  us 223 

Chapter  XVI.  — Of  the  rules  for  various  rebukes 223 

Chapter  XVII. — Of  those  who  introduced  the  plan  that  the  holy  Lessons  should  be  read  in  the  Ccenobia 

while  the  brethren  are  eating,  and  of  the  strict  silence  which  is  kept  among  the  Egyptians 224 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  How  it  is  against  the  rule  for  anyone  to  take  anything  to  eat  or  drink  except  at  the 

common   table 224 

Chapter  XIX.  —  How  throughout  Palestine  and  Mesopotamia  a  daily  service  is  undertaken  by  the  brethren..   224 

Chapter  XX.  — Of  the  three  lentil  beans  which  the  steward  found 225 

Chapter  XXI.  —  Of  the  spontaneous  service  of  some  of  the  brethren 225 

Chapter  XXII.  —  Of  the  system  of  the  Egyptians,  which  is  appointed  for  the  daily  exercise  of  the  brethren.  226 
Chapter  XXIII. — Of  the  obedience  of  Abbot  John  by  which  he  was  exalted  even  to  the  grace  of  prophecy.  226 
Chapter  XXIV.  —  Of  the  dry  stick  which,  at  the  bidding  of  his  senior,  Abbot  John  kept  on  watering  as  if  it 

would  grow 226 

Chapter  XXV.  —  Of  the  unique  vase  of  oil  thrown  away  by  Abbot  John  at  his  senior's  command 227 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  How  Abbot  John  obeyed  his  senior  by  trying  to  roll  a  huge  stone,  which  a  large  number 

of  men  were  unable  to  move 227 

Chapter  XXVII.  — Of  the  humility  and  obedience  of  Abbot  Patermucius,  which  he  did  not  hesitate  to  make 

perfect  by  throwing  his  little  boy  into  the  river  at  the  command  of  his  senior. 227 

Chapter  XXVIII.  —  How  it  was  revealed  to  the  Abbot  concerning  Patermucius,  that  he  had  done  the  deed 

of  Abraham;    and  how  when  the  same  Abbot  died,  Patermucius  succeeded  to  the  charge  of  the  monastery.  228 


CONTENTS.  165 


PAGE 

Chapter  XXIX. — Of  the  obedience  of  a  brother  who,  at  the  Abbot's  bidding,  carried  about  in  public  ten 

baskets  and  sold  them  by  retail 228 

Chapter  XXX. — Of  the  humility  of  Abbot  Pinufius,  who  left  a  very  famous  Ccenobium  over  which  he  pre- 
sided as  Presbyter,  and  out  of  the  love  of  subjection,  sought  a  distant  monastery  where  he  could  be  received 
as  a  novice 228 

Chapter  XXXI.  —  How  when  Abbot  Pinufius  was  brought  back  to  his  monastery  he  stayed  there  for  a 

little  while,  and  then  fled  again  into  the  regions  of  Syrian  Palestine 229 

Chapter  XXXII. — The  charge  which  the  same  Abbot  Pinufius  gave  to  a  brother  whom  he    admitted  into 

his  monastery  in  our  presence 230 

Chapter  XXXIII.  —  How  it  is  that,  just  as  a  great  reward  is  due  to  the  monk  who  labours  according  to 
the  regulations  of  the  fathers,  so  likewise  punishment  must  be  inflicted  on  an  idle  one;  and  therefore 
no  one  should  be  admitted  into  a  monastery  too  easily 230 

Chapter  XXXIV.  — Of  the  way  in  which  our  renunciation  is  nothing  but  mortification  and  the  image  of  the 

Crucified    230 

Chapter  XXXV.  —  How  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  our  Cross 230 

Chapter  XXXVI.  —  How  our  renunciation  of  the  world  is  of  no  use  if  we  are  again  entangled  in  those 

things  which  we  have  renounced .231 

Chapter  XXXVII. — How  the  devil    always  lies  in  wait  for  our  end,  and  how  we  ought  continually  to 

watch  his  head 23 1 

Chapter  XXXVIII. — Of  the  renunciant's  preparation  against  temptation,  and  of  the  few  who  are  worthy 

of  imitation 231 

Chapter  XXXIX. — Of  the  way  in  which  we  should  mount  towards  perfection,  whereby  we  may  afterwards 

ascend  from  the  fear  of  God  up  to  love 232 

Chapter  XL. — That  the  monks  should  seek  for  examples  of  perfection  not  from  many  instances,  but  from 

one  or  a  very  few 232 

Chapter  XLI.  — The  appearance  of  what  infirmities  one  who  lives  in  a  Ccenobium  ought  to  exhibit 232 

Chapter  XLII.  —  How  a  monk  should  not  look  for  the  blessing  of  patience  in  his  own  case  as  a  result  of 

the  virtue  of  others,  but  rather  as  a  consequence  of  his  own  long  suffering 233 

Chapter  XLIII. — Recapitulation  of  the  explanation  how  a  monk  can  mount  up  towards  perfection 233 


BOOK  V. 

OF   THE   SPIRIT   OF   GLUTTONY. 

Chapter  I. — The  transition  from  the  Institutes  of   the  monks  to  the  struggle  against  the  eight  principal 

faults 233 

Chapter  II.  —  How  the  occasions  of  these  faults,  being  found  in  everybody,  are  ignored  by  everybody;   and 

how  we  need  the  Lord's  help  to  make  them  plain 234 

Chapter  III.  —  How  our  first  struggle  must  be  against  the  spirit  of   gluttony;   i.e.,  the  pleasures  of  the 

palate 234 

Chapter  IV. —The  testimony  of  Abbot  Antony  in  which  he  teaches  that  each  virtue  ought  to  be  sought  for 

from  him  who  possesses  it  in  a  special  degree 234 

Chapter  V.  —  How  that  one  and  the  same  rule  of  fasting  cannot  be  observed  by  everybody 235 

Chapter  VI.  — That  the  mind  is  not  intoxicated  by  wine  alone. 235 

Chapter  VII .  —  How  bodily  weakness  need  not  interfere  with  purity  of  heart 236 

Chapter  VIII.  —  How  food  should  be  taken  with  regard  to  the  aim  of  perfect  continence 236 

Chapter  IX.  —  Of  the  measure  of  the  chastisement  to  be  undertaken,  and  the  remedy  of  fasting 236 

Chapter  X. — That  abstinence    from  food  is  not  of  itself  sufficient  for  preservation  of    bodily  and  mental 

purity 237 

Chapter  XL  —  That  bodily  lusts  are  not  extinguished  except  by  the  entire  rooting  out  of  vices 237 

Chapter  XII.  — That  in  our  spiritual  contest  we  ought  to  draw  an  example  from  the  carnal  contests 237 

Chapter  XIII.  —  That  we  cannot  enter  the  battle  of  the  inner  man  unless  we  have  been  set  free  from  the 

vice  of  gluttony 238 

Chapter  XIV.  —  How  gluttonous  desires  can  be  overcome 238 

Chapter  XV.  —  How  a  monk  must  always  be  eager  to  preserve  his  purity  of  heart 239 

Chapter   XVI. — How,    after  the   fashion   of    the  Olympian   games,   a  monk   should  not   attempt   spiritual 

conflicts  unless  he  has  won  battles  over  the  flesh 239 

Chapter  XVII. — That  the  foundation  and  basis  of  the  spiritual  combat  must  be  laid  in  the  struggle  against 

gluttony 239 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  Of  the  number  of  different  conflicts  and  victories  through  which  the  blessed  apostles 

ascended  to  the  crown  of  the  highest  combat 240 

Chapter  XIX.  ■ — That  the  athlete  of  Christ,  so  long  as  he  is  in  the  body,  is  never  without  a  battle 240 

Chapter  XX. — How  a  monk  should  not  overstep  the  proper  hours  for  taking  food,  if  he  wants  to  proceed 

to  the  struggle  of  interior  conflicts 24 1 

Chapter  XXI.  —  Of  the  inward  peace  of  a  monk,  and  of  spiritual  abstinence 241 

Chapter  XXII. — That  we  should  for  this  reason  practise  bodily  abstinence,  that  we  may  by  this  fasting 

attain  to  purity  of  heart 242 

Chapter  XXIII.  —  What  should  be  the  character  of  the  monk's  food 242 


166  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


Chapter  XXIV.  —  How  in  Egypt  we  saw  that  the  daily  fast  was  broken  without  scruple  on  an  arrival 242 

Chapter  XXV.  —  Of  the  abstinence  of  one  old  man,  who  took  food  six  times  so  sparingly  that  he  was  still 

hungry  •  •  • 243 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  Of  another  old  man,  who  never  partook  of  food  alone  in  his  cell 243 

Chapter  XXVII.  —  What  the  two  Abbots,  Pcesius  and  John,  said  of  the  fruits  of  their  zeal 243 

Chapter  XXVIII.  — The  Lessons  and  example  which  Abbot  John  when  dying  left  to  his  disciples 243 

Chapter  XXIX.  —  Of  Abbot  Machetes,  who  never  slept  during  the  spiritual  conferences,  but  always  went 

to  sleep  during  earthly  tales 243 

Chapter  XXX.  —  A  saying  of  the  same  old  man  about  not  judging  any  one 244 

Chapter  XXXI.  —  The  same  old  man's  rebuke  when  he  saw  how  the  brethren  went  to  sleep  during  the 

spiritual  conferences,  and  woke  up  when  some  idle  story  was  told 244 

Chapter  XXXII.  — Of  the  letters  which  were  burnt  without  being  read 244 

Chapter  XXXIII.  — Of  the  solution  of  a  question  which  Abbot  Theodore  obtained  by  prayer 245 

Chapter  XXXIV. — Of  the  saying  of  the  same  old  man  through  which  he  taught  by  what  efforts  a  monk 

can  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures 245 

Chapter  XXXV. — A  rebuke  of  the  same  old  man,  when  he  had  come  to  my  cell  in  the  middle  of  the 

night 245 

Chapter  XXXVI.  —  A  description  of  the  desert  in  Diolcos,  where  the  Anchorites  live 246 

Chapter  XXXVII.  —  Of  the  cells  which  Abbot  Archebius  gave  up  to  us  with  their  furniture 246 

Chapter  XXXVIII.  — The  same  Archebius  paid  a  debt  of  his  mother's  by  the  labours  of  his  own  hands 246 

Chapter  XXXIX.  — Of  the  device  of  a  certain  old  man  by  which  some  work  was  found  for  Abbot  Simeon, 

when  he  had  nothing  to  do 247 

Chapter  XL.  —  Of  the  boys,  who,  when  bringing  to  a  sick  man  some  figs,  died  in  the  desert  from  hunger, 

without  having  tasted  them 247 

Chapter  XLI. — The  saying  of  the  Abbot  Macarius  of  the  behaviour  of  a  monk,  as  one  who  was  to  live  for  a 

long  while,  and  as  one  who  was  daily  at  the  point  of  death 248 


BOOK   VI. 
ON  the  spirit  of  fornication.1 


BOOK   VII. 

OF  the  spirit  of  covetousness. 

Chapter  I.  —  How  our  warfare  with  covetousness  is  a  foreign  one,  and  how  this  fault  is  not  a  natural  one  in 

man,  as  the  other  faults  are 248 

Chapter  II.  —  How  dangerous  is  the  disease  of  covetousness 248 

Chapter  III.  —  What  is  the  usefulness  of  those  vices  which  are  natural  to  us 249 

Chapter  IV.  — That  we  can  say  that  there  exist  in  us  some  natural  faults  without  wronging  the  Creator. .  • .    249 

Chapter  V.  — Of  the  faults  which  are  contracted  through  our  own  fault,  without  natural  impulses 249 

Chapter  VI.  — How  difficult  the  evil  of  covetousness  is  to  drive  away  when  once  it  has  been  admitted 249 

Chapter  VII.  —  Of  the  source  from  which  covetousness  springs,  and  of  the  evils  of  which  it  is  itself  the 

mother 250 

Chapter  VIII.  — How  covetousness  is  a  hindrance  to  all  virtues 250 

Chapter  IX.  —  How  a  monk  who  has  money  cannot  stay  in  the  monastery 251 

Chapter  X.  —  Of  the  toils  which  a  deserter  from  a  monastery  must  undergo  through  covetousness,  though  he 

used  formerly  to  murmur  at  the  very  slightest  tasks 25 1 

Chapter  XL — That,  under  pretence  of  keeping  the  purse,  women  have  to  be  sought  to  dwell  with  them. ..  251 

Chapter  XII.  —  An  instance  of  a  lukewarm  monk  caught  in  the  snares  of  covetousness 251 

Chapter  XIII.  —  What  the  elders  relate  to  the  juniors  in  the  matter  of  stripping  off  sins 252 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Instances  to  show  that  the  disease  of  covetousness  is  threefold 252 

Chapter  XV.  —  Of   the  difference  between  one  who  renounces  the  world  badly,  and  one  who  does  not 

renounce  it  at  all 252 

Chapter  XVI. — Of  the  authority  under  which  those  shelter  themselves,  who  object  to  stripping  themselves 

of  their  goods 253 

Chapter  XVII.  — Of  the  renunciation  of  Apostles  and  the  primitive  Church 253 

Chapter   XVIII.  — That  if  we  want  to  imitate  the  Apostles  we  ought  not  to  live  according  to  our  own  pre- 
scriptions, but  to  follow  their  examples ° 254 

Chapter  XIX.  — A  saying  of  S.  Basil,  the  Bishop,  directed  against  Syncletius 254 

Chapter  XX.  —  How  contemptible  it  is  to  be  overcome  by  covetousness 254 

Chapter  XXI.  —  How  covetousness  can  be  conquered 255 

1  Omitted  in  the  translation. 


CONTENTS.  167 


PAGE 


Chapter  XXII.  —  That  one  who  actually  has  no  money  may  still  be  deemed  covetous 255 

Chapter  XXIII.  — An  example  drawn  from  the  case  of  Judas 255 

Chapter  XXIV.  — That  covetousness  cannot  be  overcome  except  by  stripping  one's  self  of  everything 255 

Chapter  XXV.  —  Of  the  deaths  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira  and  of  Judas,  which  they  underwent,  through  the 

impulse  of  covetousness 256 

Chapter  XXVI.  — That  covetousness  brings  upon  the  soul  a  spiritual  leprosy 256 

Chapter  XXVII.  —  Scripture  proofs  by  which  one  who  is  aiming  at  perfection  is  taught  not  to  take  back 

again  what  he  has  given  up  and  renounced 256 

Chapter  XXVIII.  — That  the  victory  over  covetousness  can  only  be  gained  by  stripping  one's  self  bare  of 

everything 256 

Chapter  XXIX.  —  How  a  monk  can  retain  his  poverty 256 

Chapter  XXX.  —  The  remedies  against  the  disease  of  covetousness 257 

Chapter  XXXI.  —  That  no  one  can  get  the  better  of  covetousness  unless  he  stays  in  the   Ccenobium;   and 

how  one  can  remain  there 257 


BOOK  VIII. 

OF   THE   SPIRIT   OF   ANGER. 

Chapter  I.  —  How  our  fourth  conflict  is  against  the  sin  of  anger,  and  how  many  evils  this  passion  produces.  257 
Chapter  II.  — Of  those  who  say  that  anger  is  not  injurious,  if  we  are  angry  with  those  who  do  wrong,  since 

God  Himself  is  said  to  be  angry 258 

Chapter  III.  —  Of  those  things  which  are  spoken  of  God  anthropomorphically 258 

Chapter  IV.  —  In  what  sense  we  should  understand  the  Passion  and  human  parts  which  are  ascribed  to  the 

unchanging  and  incorporeal  God 258 

Chapter  V.  —  How  calm  a  monk  ought  to  be ■ 259 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  the  righteous  and  unrighteous  passion  of  wrath 259 

Chapter  VII.  — Of  the  only  case  in  which  anger  is  useful  to  us 259 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Instances  from  the  life  of  the  blessed  David  in  which  anger  was  rightly  felt   259 

Chapter  IX.  —  Of  the  anger  which  should  be  directed  against  ourselves 260 

Chapter  X.  — Of  the  sun,  of  which  it  is  said  that  it  should  not  go  down  upon  your  wrath 260 

Chapter  XI.  — Of  those,  to  whose  wrath  even  the  going  down  of  the  sun  sets  no  limit 260 

Chapter  XII.  —  How  this  is  one  end  of  temper  and  anger  when  a  man  carries  it  into  action  as  far  as  he 

can 261 

Chapter  XIII.  — That  we  should  not  retain  our  anger  even  for  an  instant 261 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Of  reconciliation  with  our  brother 261 

Chapter  XV.  —  How  the  old  Law  would  root  out  anger,  not  only  from  the  actions,  but  from  the  thoughts  ••  261 

Chapter  XVI.  —  How  useless  is  the  retirement  of  those  who  do  not  give  up  their  bad  manners 262 

Chapter  XVII. — That  the  peace  of   our  heart  does  not  depend  on  another's  will,  but  lies  in  our  own 

control 262 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  Of  the  zeal  with  which  we  should  seek  the  desert,  and  of  the  things  in  which  we  make 

progress  there 262 

Chapter  XIX. — An  illustration  to  help  in  forming  an  opinion  on  those  who  are  only  patient  when  they  are 

not  tried  by  any  one • 262 

Chapter  XX.  —  How  anger  should  be  banished  according  to  the  Gospel 263 

Chapter  XXI.  — Whether  we  ought  to  admit  the  addition  of  "  without  a  cause  "  in  that  which  is  written  in 

the  Gospel  "  whoever  is  angry  with  his  brother,"  etc 263 

Chapter  XXII.  —  The  remedies  by  which  we  can  root  out  anger  from  our  hearts 263 


BOOK   IX. 

OF  THE   SPIRIT   OF   DEJECTION. 

Chapter  I. — How  our  fifth  combat  is  against  the  spirit  of  dejection,  and  of  the  harm  which  it  inflicts  upon 

the  soul 264 

Chapter  II.  —  Of  the  care  with  which  the  malady  of  dejection  must  be  healed 264 

Chapter  III.  — To  what  the  soul  may  be  compared,  which  is  a  prey  to  the  attacks  of  dejection. 264 

Chapter  IV.  —  Whence  and  in  what  way  dejection  arises 265 

Chapter  V.  — That  disturbances  are  caused  in  us  not  by  the  faults  of  other  people  but  by  our  own. 265 

Chapter  VI. — That  no  one  comes  to  grief  by  a  sudden  fall,  but  is  destroyed  by  falling  through  a  long 

course  of  carelessness 265 

Chapter  VII. — That  we  ought  not  to  give  up  intercourse  with  our  brethren  in  order  to  seek  after  perfection, 

but  should  rather  constantly  cultivate  the  virtue  of  patience 265 

Chapter  VIII.  — That  if  we  have  improved  our  character  it  is  possible  for  us  to  get  on  with  everybody 265 

Chapter  IX.  —  Of  another  sort  of  dejection  which  produces  despair  of  salvation 265 


1 68  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Chapter  X.  —  Of  the  only  thing  in  which  dejection  is  useful  to  us 266 

Chapter  XI.  —  How  we  can  decide  what  is  useful,  and  the  sorrow  according  to  God,  and  what  is  devilish 

and  deadly 266 

Chapter  XII.  —  That  except  that  wholesome  sorrow,  which  springs  up  in  three  ways,  all  sorrow  and  dejec- 
tion should  be  resisted  as  hurtful 266 

Chapter  XIII.  1 —  The  means  by  which  we  can  root  out  dejection  from  our  hearts 266 


BOOK  X. 

OF   THE   SPIRIT   OF   ACCIDIE. 

Chapter  I.  —  How  our  sixth  combat  is  against  the  spirit  of  Accidie,  and  what  its  character  is 266 

Chapter  II.  — A  description  of  Accidie,  and  the  way  in  which  it  creeps  over  the  heart  of  a  monk,  and  the 

injury  it  inflicts  on  the  soul 267 

Chapter  III.  —  Of  the   different  ways  in  which  Accidie  overcomes  a  monk 267 

Chapter  IV.  —  How  Accidie  hinders  the  mind  from  all  contemplation  of  the  virtues 267 

Chapter  V.  —  How  the  attack  of  Accidie  is  twofold 268 

Chapter  VI.  —  How  injurious  are  the  effects  of  Accidie 268 

Chapter  VII.  —  Testimonies  from  the  apostle  concerning  the  spirit  of  Accidie 268 

Chapter  VIII.  —  That  he  is  sure  to  be  restless  who  will  not  be  content  with  the  work  of  his  own  hands-  •  •  •  269 
Chapter  IX.  — That  not  the  Apostle  only,  but  those  too  who  were  with  him,  laboured  with  their  own  hands.  270 
Chapter  X.  — That  for  this  reason  the  Apostle  laboured  with  his  own  hands  that  he  might  set  us  an  example 

of  work 270 

Chapter  XI.  — That  he  preached  and  taught  men  to  work,  not  only  by  his  example,  but  also  by  his  words..    270 

Chapter  XII.  — Of  his  saying,  "  If  any  will  not  work  neither  shall  he  eat  " 271 

Chapter  XIII.  — Of  his  saying,  "  We  have  heard  that  some  among  you  walk  disorderly  " 271 

Chapter  XIV.  —  How  manual  labour  prevents  many  faults. 271 

Chapter  XV.  —  How  kindness  should  be  shown  even  to  the  idle  and  careless 271 

Chapter  XVI.  —  How  we  ought  to  admonish  those  who  go  wrong,  not  out  of  hatred,  but  out  of  love 272 

Chapter  XVII.  — Different  passages  in  which  the  Apostle  declares  that  we  ought  to  work,  or  in  which  it  is 

shown  that  he  himself  worked 272 

Chapter  XVIII. — That  the  Apostle  wrought  what  he  thought  would  be  sufficient  for  him  and  for  others 

who  were  with  him 272 

Chapter  XIX.  — How  we  should  understand  these  words:    "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive."  . .  •    272 

Chapter  XX.  —  Of  a  lazy  brother  who  tried  to  persuade  others  to  leave  the  monastery 273 

Chapter  XXI.  —  Different  passages  from  the  writings  of  Solomon  against  Accidie 273 

Chapter  XXII.  — How  the  brethren  in  Egypt  work  with  their  hands,  not  only  to  supply  their  own  needs, 

but  also  to  minister  to  those  who  are  in  prison 274 

Chapter  XXIII.  — That  idleness  is  the  reason  why  there  are  not  monasteries  for  monks  in  the  West 274 

Chapter  XXIV.  — Of  Abbot  Paul,  who  every  year  burnt  with  fire  all  the  works  of  his  hands 274 

Chapter  XXV.  — The  words  of  Abbot  Moses  which  he  said  to  me  about  the  cure  of  Accidie 275 


BOOK   XI. 

OF   THE   SPIRIT  OF  VAIN-GLORY. 

Chapter  I.  —  How  our  seventh  combat  is  against  the  spirit  of  vain-glory,  and  what  its  nature  is 275 

Chapter  II.  —  How  vain-glory  attacks  a  monk,  not  only  on  his  carnal,  but  also  on  his  spiritual  side 275 

Chapter  III.  —  How  many  forms  and  shapes  vain-glory  takes. 275 

Chapter  IV.  —How  vain-glory  attacks  a  monk  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left. 276 

Chapter  V.  —  A  comparison  which  shows  the  nature  of  vain-glory 276 

Chapter  VI.  — That  vain-glory  is  not  altogether  got  rid  of  by  the  advantages  of  solitude 276 

Chapter  VII.  —  How  vain-glory,  when  it  has  been  overcome,  rises  again  keener  than  ever  for  the  fight 276 

Chapter  VIII.  —  How  vain-glory  is  not  allayed  either  in  the  desert  or  through  advancing  years 277 

Chapter  IX.  — That  vain-glory  is  the  more  dangerous  through  being  mixed  up  with  virtues. 277 

Chapter  X.  —  An  instance  showing  how  King  Hezekiah  was  overtaken  by  the  dart  of  vain-glory 277 

Chapter  XI.  — The  instance  of  King  Uzziah,  who  was  overcome  by  the  taint  of  the  same  malady 277 

Chapter  XII.  —  Several  testimonies  against  vain-glory 278 

Chapter  XIII.  —  Of  the  ways  in  which  vain-glory  attacks  a  monk •  •  278 

Chapter  XIV.  —  How  it  suggests  that  a  man  may  seek  to  take  holy  orders • 278 

Chapter  XV.  —  How  vain-glory  intoxicates  the  mind 278 

Chapter  XVI.  —  Of  one  whom  the  superior  came  upon,  and  found  in  his  cell  deluded  by  idle  vain-glory.  •  •  •  278 

Chapter  XVII.  —  How  faults  cannot  be  cured  unless  their  roots  and  causes  have  been  discovered 279 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  How  a  monk  ought  to  avoid  women  and  bishops 279 

Chapter  XIX.  —  Remedies  by  which  we  can  overcome  vain-glory 279 


CONTENTS.  169 


BOOK  XII. 

OF    THE   SPIRIT   OF    PRIDE. 

PAGE 

Chapter  I.  —  How  our  eighth  combat  is  against  the  spirit  of  pride,  and  of  its  character 280 

Chapter  II.  —  How  there  are  two  kinds  of  pride 280 

Chapter  III.  —  How  pride  is  equally  destructive  of  all  virtues 280 

Chapter  IV.  —  How  by  reason  of  pride  Lucifer  was  turned  from  an  archangel  into  a  devil 280 

Chapter  V.  —  That  incentives  to  all  sins  spring  from  pride 281 

Chapter  VI.  —  That  the  sin  of  pride  is  last  in  the  actual  order  of  the  combat,  but  first  in  time  and  origin- ..  281 

Chapter  VII.  —  That  the  evil  of  pride  is  so  great  that  it  rightly  has  even  God  Himself  as  its  adversary 281 

Chapter  VIII.  —  How  God  has  destroyed  the  pride  of  the  devil  by  the  virtue  of  humility,   and  various 

passages  in  proof  of  this 282 

Chapter  IX.  —  How  we  too  may  overcome  pride 282 

Chapter  X.  —  How  no  one  can  obtain  perfect  virtue  and  the  promised  bliss  by  his  own  strength  alone 282 

Chapter  XI.  — The  case  of  the  thief  and  of  David  and  of  our  call  in  order  to  illustrate  the  grace  of  God-. . .  283 

Chapter  XII.  — That  no  evil  is  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  promised  bliss 283 

Chapter  XIII.  — The  teaching  of  the  elders  on  the  method  of  acquiring  purity 283 

Chapter  XIV.  — That  the  help  of  God  is  given  to  those  who  labour 283 

Chapter  XV.  —  From  whom  we  can  learn  the  way  of  perfection 284 

Chapter  XVI.  — That  we  cannot  even  make  the  effort  to  obtain  perfection  without  the  mercy  and  inspiration 

of  God 284 

Chapter  XVII. — Various  passages,  which  clearly  show  that  we  cannot   do  anything  which  belongs  to  our 

salvation  without  the  aid  of  God 284 

Chapter  XVIII,  —  How  we  are  protected  by  the  grace  of  God,  not  only  in  our  natural  condition,  but  also  by 

His  Providence 285 

Chapter  XIX.  —  How  this  faith  concerning  the  grace  of  God  was  delivered  to  us  by  the  ancient  Fathers.  •  . .  286 

Chapter  XX.  —  Of  one  who  for  his  blasphemy  was  given  over  to  a  most  unclean  spirit 286 

Chapter  XXI. — The  instance  of  Joash  King  of  Judah,  showing  what  was  the  consequence  of  his  pride- • ..   286 

Chapter  XXII.  — That  every  proud  soul  is  subject  to  spiritual  wickedness,  to  be  deceived  by  it 287 

Chapter  XXIII. —  How  perfection  can  only  be  attained  through  the  grace  of  humility 287 

Chapter  XXIV.  ■ —  Who  are  attacked  by  spiritual  and  who  by  carnal  pride. 287 

Chapter  XXV.  ■ — ■  A  description  of  carnal  pride,  and  of  the  evils  which  it  produces  in  the  soul  of  a  monk. . .   287 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  That  a  man  whose  foundation  is  bad  sinks  daily  from  bad  to  worse 288 

Chapter  XXVII.  —  A  description  of  the  faults  which  spring  from  the  evil  of  pride.' 288 

Chapter  XXVIII.  —  Of  the  pride  of  a  certain  brother 289 

Chapter  XXIX.  — The  signs  by  which  you  can  recognize  the  presence  of  carnal  pride  in  a  soul 289 

Chapter  XXX.  —  How  when  a  man  has  grown  cold  through  pride,  he  wants  to  be  put  to  rule  over  other 

people 289 

Chapter  XXXI.  —  How  we  can  overcome  pride  and  attain  perfection. 290 

Chapter   XXXII.  —  How   pride    which   is   so   destructive  of   all  virtues  can  itself   be   destroyed   by   true 

humility 290 

Chapter  XXXIII.  —  Remedies  against  the  evil  of  pride 290 


THE  FIRST   PART   OF  THE   CONFERENCES   OF   JOHN   CASSIAN,    CONTAINING   CONFERENCES 

I-X.     PREFACE. 

I.  —  First  Conference  of  Abbot  Moses;  on  the  Goal  or  Aim  of  the  Monk. 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  our  stay  in  Scete,  and  that  which  we  proposed  to  Abbot  Moses 295 

Chapter  II.  —  Of  the  question  of  Abbot  Moses,  who  asked  what  was  the  goal  and  what  the  end  of  the 

monk 295 

Chapter  III.  — Of  our  reply 296 

Chapter  IV.  —  Of  Abbot  Moses'  question  on  the  aforesaid  statement 296 

Chapter  V.  —  A  comparison  with  a  man  who  is  trying  to  hit  a  mark 296 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  those  who  in  renouncing  the  world,  aim  at  perfection  without  love. 297 

Chapter  VII.  —  How  peace  of  mind  should  be  sought 297 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Of  the  main  effort  towards  the  contemplation  of  heavenly  things,  and  an  illustration  from 

the  case  of  Martha  and  Mary 298 

Chapter  IX.  —  A  question  how  it  is  that  the  practice  of  virtue  cannot  remain  with  a  man 298 

Chapter  X.  — The  answer  that  not  the  reward,  but  the  doing  of  the  works  will  come  to  an  end 299 

Chapter  XI.  — Of  the  abiding  character  of  love. 299 

Chapter  XII.  —  A  question  on  perseverance  in  spiritual  contemplation 300 

Chapter  XIII.  — The  answer  concerning  the  direction  of  the  heart 300 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Of  the  continuance  of  the  soul 301 

Chapter  XV.  —  How  we  must  meditate  on  God 302 

Chapter  XVI.  — A  question  on  the  changing  character  of  the  thoughts 303 


170  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Chapter  XVII.  —  The  answer  what  the  mind  can,  and  what  it  cannot  do  with  regard  to  the  state  of  its 

thoughts 303 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  Comparison  of  a  soul  and  a  mill-stone 303 

Chapter  XIX.  —  Of  the  threefold  origin  of  our  thoughts 304 

Chapter  XX.  — About  discerning  the  thoughts,  with  an  illustration  from  a  good  money  changer 304 

Chapter  XXI.  —  Of  the  illusion  of  Abbot  John 306 

Chapter  XXII.  —  Of  the  fourfold  method  of  discrimination 306 

Chapter  XXIII.  —  Of  the  discourse  of  the  teacher  in  regard  to  the  merits  of  his  hearers 306 

II. — The  Second  Conference  of  Abbot  Moses;  on  Discretion. 

Chapter  I.  —  Abbot  Moses'  introduction  on  the  grace  of  discretion. 307 

Chapter   II. — What  discretion  alone  can  give  a  monk;   and  a  discourse  of   the  blessed  Antony  on  this 

subject 30S 

Chapter  III. — Of  the  error  of  Saul  and  of  Ahab,  by  which  they  were  deceived  through  lack  of  discretion..  309 

Chapter  IV.  — What  is  said  of  the  value  of  discretion  in  Holy  Scripture 309 

Chapter  V.  —  Of  the  death  of  the  old  man  Heron 310 

Chapter  VI.  — Of  the  destruction  of  two  brethren  for  lack  of  discretion 310 

Chapter  VII.  —  Of  an  illusion  into  which  another  fell  for  lack  of  discretion 311 

Chapter  VIII.  — Of  the  fall  and  deception  of  a  monk  of  Mesopotamia 311 

Chapter  IX.  —  A  question  about  the  acquirement  of  discretion 311 

Chapter  X.  —  The  answer  how  true  discretion  may  be  gained 311 

Chapter  XI.  — The  words  of  Abbot  Serapion  on  the  decline  of  thoughts  that  are  exposed  to  others,  and 

also  on  the  danger  of  self-confidence 312 

Chapter  XII. — A  confession  of  the  modesty  which  made  us  ashamed  to  reveal  our  thoughts  to  the  elders...  313 
Chapter  XIII. — The  answer  concerning  the  trampling  down  of   shame,  and  the  danger  of   one  without 

contrition 313 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Of  the  call  of  Samuel 315 

Chapter  XV.  —  Of  the  call  of  the  Apostle  Paul 316 

Chapter  XVI.  — How  to  seek  for  discretion 316 

Chapter  XVII.  —  On  excessive  fasts  and  vigils 316 

Chapter  XVIII.  — A  question  on  the  right  measure  of  abstinence  and  refreshment 316 

Chapter  XIX.  —  Of  the  best  plan  for  our  daily  food 317 

Chapter  XX.  — An  objection,  on  the  case  of  that  abstinence,  in  which  a  man  is  sustained  by  two  biscuits...  317 

Chapter  XXI.  — The  answer  concerning  the  value  and  measure  of  well  proved  abstinence 317 

Chapter  XXII.  — What  is  the  usual  limit  both  of  abstinence,  and  of  partaking  food 317 

Chapter  XXIII.  — Quemadmodum  abundantia  umorem  genitalium  castigetur 317 

Chapter  XXIV. — Of  the  difficulty  of  uniformity  in  eating,  and  of  the  gluttony  of  Brother  Benjamin 317 

Chapter  XXV.  — A  question  how  it  is  possible  always  to  observe  one  and  the  same  measure 31S 

Chapter  XXVI.  — The  answer  how  we  Should  not  exceed  the  proper  measure  of  food 318 


III.  —  Conference  of  Abbot  Paphnutius  ;  on  the  Three  Sorts  of  Renunciations. 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  the  life  and  conduct  of  Abbot  Paphnutius 319 

Chapter  II.  — Of  the  discourse  of  the  same  old  man,  and  our  reply  to  it 319 

Chapter  III. — The  statement  of  Abbot  Paphnutius  on  the  three  kinds  of  vocations,  and  the  three  sorts  of 

renunciations 320 

Chapter  IV.  —  An  explanation  of  the  three  callings. 320 

Chapter  V.  —  How  the  first  of  these  calls  is  of  no  use  to  a  sluggard,  and  the  last  is  no  hindrance  to  one 

who  is  in  earnest 321 

Chapter  VI.  — An  account  of  the  three  sorts  of  renunciations 321 

Chapter  VII.  —  How  we  can  attain  perfection  in  each  of  these  sorts  of  renunciations 322 

Chapter  VIII.  — Of  our  very  own  possessions,  in  which  the  beauty  of  the  soul  is  seen  or  its  foulness 323 

Chapter  IX.  —  Of  three  sorts  of  possessions 324 

Chapter  X.  —  That  no  one  can  become  perfect  merely  through  the  first  grade  of  renunciation 324 

Chapter  XI  —  A  question  on  the  free-will  of  man  and  the  grace  of  God 325 

Chapter  XII.  — The  answer  on  the  economy  of  Divine  grace  with  free-will  still  remaining  in  us 325 

Chapter  XIII.  — That  the  ordering  of  our  way  comes  from  God 326 

Chapter  XIV.  — That  knowledge  of  the  law  is  given  by  the  guidance  and  illumination  of  the  Lord 326 

Chapter  XV. — That  the  understanding,  by  means  of  which  we  can  recognize  God's  commands  and  the 

performance  of  a  good  will,  are  gifts  from  the  Lord 326 

Chapter  XVI.  — That  faith  itself  must  be  given  us  by  the  Lord 327 

Chapter  XVII.  — That  temperateness  and  the  endurance  of  temptations  must  be  given  us  by  the  Lord 328 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  That  the  continual  fear  of  God  must  be  bestowed  on  us  by  the  Lord 328 

Chapter  XIX.  —  That  the  beginning  of  our  good-will  and  its  completion  come  from  God 328 

Chapter  XX.  —  That  nothing  can  be  done  in  this  world  without  God 329 

Chapter  XXI.  —  An  objection  on  the  power  of  free-will 329 

Chapter  XXII.  —  The  answer,  viz.,  that  our  free-will  always  has  need  of  the  help  of  the  Lord 329 


CONTENTS.  171 


IV.  —  Conference  of  Abbot  Daniel;   on  the  Lust  of  the  Flesh  and  of  the  Spirit. 

PACE 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  the  life  of  Abbot  Daniel 330 

Chapter  II. — An    investigation    of    the    origin  of    a  sudden  change    of    feeling  from  inexpressible  joy  to 

extreme  dejection  of  mind. '  331 

Chapter  III.  —  His  answer  to  the  question  raised 331 

Chapter  IV.  —  How  there  is  a  twofold  reason  for  the  permission  and  allowance  of  God 331 

Chapter  V.  —  How  our  efforts  and  exertions  are  of  no  use  without  God's  help 331 

Chapter  VI.  —  How  it  is  sometimes  to  our  advantage  to  be  left  by  God 332 

Chapter  VII.  — Of  the  value  of  the  conflicts  which  the  Apostle  makes  to  consist  in  the  struggle  between  the 

flesh  and  the  spirit 332 

Chapter  VIII.  —  A  question  how  it  is  that  in  the  Apostle's  chapter,  after  he  has  spoken  of  the  lusts  of  the 

flesh  and  spirit  opposing  one  another,  he  adds  a  third  thing,  viz.,  man's  will 333 

Chapter  IX.  — The  answer  on  the  understanding  of  one  who  asks  rightly 333 

Chapter  X.  —  That  the  word  "  flesh  "  is  not  used  with  one  single  meaning  only 333 

Chapter  XI.  —  What  the  Apostle  means  by  flesh  in  this  passage;    and  what  the  lust  of  the  flesh  is 333 

Chapter  XII.  — What  is  our  free-will  which  stands  in  between  the  lust  of  the  flesh  and  the  spirit 334 

Chapter  XIII.  —  Of  the  advantage  of  the  delay  which  results  from  the  struggle  between  the  flesh  and  spirit.  335 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Of  the  incurable  depravity  of  spiritual  wickedness 335 

Chapter  XV.  —  Of  the  value  of  the  lust  of  the  flesh  against  the  spirit  in  our  case.. 336 

Chapter  XVI.  —  Of   the  excitement  of    the  flesh,  without  the    humiliation  of  which  we  should  fall  more 

grievously 336 

Chapter  XVII.  —  Of  the  lukewarmness  of  eunuchs 336 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  The  question  what  is  the  difference  between  the  carnal  and  natural  man 336 

Chapter  XIX.  — ■  Answer  concerning  the  threefold  condition  of  souls 336 

Chapter  XX.  — ■  Of  those  who  renounce  the  world  but  ill 338 

Chapter  XXI.  —  Of  those  who  having  made  light  of  great  things  busy  themselves  about  trifles 338 


V.  —  Conference  of  Abbot  Serapion;  on  the  Eight  Principal  Faults. 

Chapter  I.  —  Our  arrival  at  Abbot  Serapion's  cell,  and  inquiry  on  the  different  kinds  of  faults,  and  the  way 

to  overcome  them ' , 339 

Chapter  II.  —  Abbot  Serapion's  enumeration  of  the  eight  principal  faults 339 

Chapter  III.  —  Of  the  two  classes  of  faults,  and  their  fourfold  manner  of  acting  upon  us 339 

Chapter  IV.  —  A  review  of  the  passions  of  gluttony  and  fornication,  and  their  remedies 339 

Chapter  V.  —  How  our  Lord  alone  was  tempted  without  sin 340 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  the  manner  of  the  temptation  in  which  our  Lord  was  attacked  by  the  devil 341 

Chapter  VII.  —  How  vain-glory  and  pride  can  be  consummated  without  any  assistance  from  the  body 342 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Of  covetousness,  which  is  something  outside  our  nature,  and  of  the  difference  between  it 

and  those  faults  which  are  natural  to  us 342 

Chapter  IX.  —  How  dejection  and  Accidie  generally  arise  without  any  external  provocation,  as   in  the  case 

of  other  faults 342 

Chapter  X.  —  How  six  of  these  faults  are  related,   and  the  two  which  differ  from  them  are  akin  to  one 

another 343 

Chapter  XI.  —  Of  the  origin  and  character  of  each  of  these  faults 343 

Chapter  XII.  —  How  vain-glory  may  be  useful  to  us 344 

Chapter  XIII.  —  Of  the  different  ways  in  which  all  these  faults  assault  us 345 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Of  the  struggle  into  which  we  must  enter  against  our  faults  when  they  attack  us 345 

Chapter  XV.  —  How  we  can  do  nothing  against  our  faults  without  the  help  of  God,  and  how  we  should  not 

be  puffed  up  by  victories  over  them . . .' 346 

Chapter  XVI.  —  Of  the  meaning  of  the  seven  nations  of  whose  lands  Israel  took  possession,  and  the  reason 

why  they  are  sometimes  spoken  of  as   "  seven  "  and  sometimes  as  "  many  " 347 

Chapter  XVII.  — A  question  with  regard  to  the  comparison  of  seven  nations  with  eight  faults 348 

Chapter  XVIII. — The  answer  how  the  number  of  eight  nations  is  made  up  in  accordance   with    the  eight 

faults 348 

Chapter  XIX.  —  The  reason  why  one  nation  is  to  be  forsaken,  while  seven  are  commanded  to  be  destroyed.  348 

Chapter  XX.  — Of  the  nature  of  gluttony,  which  may  be  illustrated  by  the  simile  of  the  eagle 349 

Chapter   XXI.  — Of  the  lasting  character  of  gluttony  as  upheld  against  some  philosophers 349 

Chapter  XXII.  —  How  it  was  that  God  foretold  to  Abraham  that  Israel  would  have  to  drive  out  ten  nations.  349 

Chapter  XXIII.  —  How  it  is  useful  for  us  to  take  possession  of  their  lands 349 

Chapter  XXIV.  — How  the  lands  from  which  the  Canaanites  were  expelled  had  been  assigned  to  the  seed  of 

Shem 350 

Chapter  XXV.  — Different  passages  of  Scripture  on  the  meaning  of  the  eight  faults 350 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  How,  when  we  have  got  the  better  of  the  passion  of  gluttony,  we  must  take  pains  to  gain 

all  the  other  virtues 350 

Chapter  XXVII. — That  our  battles  are  not  fought  with  our  faults  in  the  same  order  as  that  in  which  they 

stand  in  the  list 351 


172  CONTENTS. 


VI. — Conference  of  Abbot  Theodore;  on  the  Death  of  the  Saints. 

PAGE 

Chapter  I.  —Description  of  the  wilderness,  and  the  question  about  the  death  of  the  saints 351 

Chapter  II.  —  Abbot  Theodore's  answer  to  the  question  proposed  to  him 352 

Chapter  III. — Of  the  three  kinds  of  things  that  there  are  in  the  world,  viz.,  good,  bad,   and  indifferent.. . .  352 

Chapter  IV.  ■ —  How  evil  cannot  be  forced  on  any  one  by  another  against  his  will 353 

Chapter  V.  —  An  objection,  how  God  Himself  can  be  said  to  create  evil 354 

Chapter  VI.  —  The  answer  to  the  question  proposed 354 

Chapter  VII.  —  A  question  whether  the  man  who  causes  the  death  of  a  good  man  is  guilty,  if  the  gopd  man 

is  the  gainer  by  his  death. 354 

Chapter  VIII.  — The  answer  to  the  foregoing  question 355 

Chapter  IX. — The  case  of  Job  who  was  tempted  by  the  devil,  and  of  the  Lord  who  was  betrayed  by  Judas, 

and  how  prosperity  as  well  as  adversity  is  advantageous  to  a  good  man 355 

Chapter  X.  —  Of  the  excellence  of  the  perfect  man  who  is  figuratively  spoken  of  as  ambidextrous 356 

Chapter  XI.  —  Of  the  two  kinds  of  trials  which  come  upon  us  in  a  threefold  way 357 

Chapter  XII.  —  How  the  upright  man  ought  to  be  like  a  stamp,  not  of  wax,  but  of  hard  steel 359 

Chapter  XIII.  —  A  question  whether  the  man  can  constantly  continue  in  one  and  the  same  condition 359 

Chapter  XIV.  —  The  answer  to  the  points  raised  by  the  questioner 359 

Chapter  XV.  —  How  one  loses  by  going  away  from  one's  cell 360 

Chapter  XVI.  —  How  even  celestial  powers  above  are  capable  of  change 360 

Chapter  XVII.  — That  no  one  is  dashed  to  the  ground  by  a  sudden  fall 361 


VII.  —  First  Conference  of  Abbot  Serenus  ;  on  Inconstancy  of  Mind  and  Spiritual  Wickedness. 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  the  chastity  of  Abbot  Serenus 361 

Chapter  II.  — The  question  of  the  aforesaid  old  man  on  the  state  of  our  thoughts 361 

Chapter  III.  —  Our  answer  on  the  fickle  character  of  our  thoughts 362 

Chapter  fV.  — The  discourse  of  the  old  man  on  the  state  of  the  soul  and  its  excellence 363 

Chapter  V.  ■ — Of  the  perfection  of  the  soul,  as  drawn  from  the  comparison  of  the  centurion  in  the  Gospel..  363 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  perseverance  as  regards  care  of  the  thoughts 365 

Chapter  VII.  —  A  question  on  the  roving  tendency  of  the  mind,  and  the  attacks  of  spiritual  wickedness...  365 

Chapter  VIII.  — The  answer  on  the  help  of  God  and  the  power  of  free-will 365 

Chapter  IX.  —  A  question  on  the  union  of  the  soul  with  devils 366 

Chapter  X.  —  The  answer  how  unclean  spirits  are  united  with  human  souls 366 

Chapter  XI. — An  objection  whether  unclean  spirits  can  be  present  in  or  united  with  the  souls  of  those 

whom  they  have  filled ' 366 

Chapter  XII.  — The  answer  how  it  is  that  unclean  spirits  can  lord  it  over  the  possessed 366 

Chapter  XIII.  —  How  spirits  cannot  be  penetrated  by  spirits,  and  how  God  alone  is  incorporeal 366 

Chapter  XIV.  —  An  objection  as  to  how  we  ought  to  believe  that  devils  see  into  the  thoughts  of  men 367 

Chapter  XV.  ■ — The  answer,  what  devils  can,  and  what  they  cannot  do,  in  regard  to  the  thoughts  of  men. . .  367 

Chapter  XVI.  —  An  illustration  showing  how  we  are  taught  that  unclean  spirits  know  the  thoughts  of  men..  367 

Chapter  XVII.  — Of  the  fact  that  not  every  devil  has  the  power  of  suggesting  every  passion  to  men 368 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  A  question  whether  among  the  devils  there  is  any  order  observed  in  the  attack,  or  system 

in  its  changes 368 

Chapter  XIX.  — The  answer,  how  far  an  agreement  exists  among  devils  about  the  attack  and  its  changes.  ••  368 
Chapter  XX.  —  Of  the  fact  that  opposite  powers  are  not  of  the  same  boldness,  and  that  the  occasions  of 

temptation  are  not  under  their  own  control 36S 

Chapter  XXI.  —  Of  the  fact  that  devils  struggle  with  men  not  without  effort  on  their  part 369 

Chapter  XXII.  —  Of  the  fact  that  the  power  to  hurt  does  not  depend  upon  the  will  of  the  devils 370 

Chapter  XXIII.  —  Of  the  diminished  power  of  the  devils 370 

Chapter  XXIV. — Of  the  way  in  which  the  devils  prepare  for  themselves  an  entrance  into  the  bodies  of 

those  whom  they  are  going  to  possess 371 

Chapter  XXV.  — Of  the  fact  that  those  men  are  more  wretched  who  are  possessed  by  sins  than  those  who 

are  possessed  by  devils 371 

Chapter  XXVI.  — Of  the  death  of  the  prophet  who  was  led  astray,  and  of  the  infirmity  of  the  Abbot  Paul, 

with  which  he  was  visited  for  the  sake  of  his  cleansing 371 

Chapter  XXVII.  —  Of  the  temptation  of  Abbot  Moses 372 

Chapter  XXVIII.  —  How  we  ought  not  to  despise  those  who  are  delivered  up  to  unclean  spirits 372 

Chapter  XXIX. — An  objection,  asking  why  those  who  are  tormented  by  unclean  spirits  are  separated  from 

the  Lord's  communion 372 

Chapter  XXX.  —  The  answer  to  the  question  raised 373 

Chapter  XXXI.  —  Of  the  fact  that  those  men  are  more  to  be  pitied  to  whom  it  is  not  given  to  be  subjected 

to  those  temporal  temptations 373 

Chapter  XXXII.  —  Of  the  different  desires  and  wishes  which  exist  in  the  powers  of  the  air 374 

Chapter  XXXIII.  —  A  question  as  to  the  origin  of  such  differences  in  powers  of  evil  in  the  sky 374 

Chapter  XXXIV.  — The  postponement  of  the  answer  to  the  question  raised 375 


CONTENTS.  173 


VIII. — The  Second  Conference  of  Abbot  Serenus;  on  Principalities. 

PAGE 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  the  hospitality  of  Abbot  Serenus 375 

Chapter  II.  — A  question  propounded  on  the  different  kinds  of  spiritual  wickedness 375 

Chapter  III.  — The  answer  on  the  many  kinds  of  food  provided  in  Holy  Scripture 376 

Chapter  IV.  —Of  the  double  sense  in  which  Holy  Scripture  may  be  taken 377 

Chapter  V.  —  Of  the  fact  that  the  question  suggested  ought  to  be  included  among  those  things  to  be  held  in 

a  neutral  or  doubtful  way 377 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  the  fact  that  nothing  is  created  evil  by  God 377 

Chapter  VII.  — Of  the  origin  of  principalities  or  powers 377 

Chapter  VIII.  — Of  the  fall  of  the  devil  and  the  angels 378 

Chapter  IX.  —  An  objection  stating  that  the  fall  of  the  devil  took  its  origin  from  the  deception  of  Eve..  -.    378 

Chapter  X.  ■ — The  answer  about  the  beginning  of  the  devil's  fall 378 

Chapter  XL  —  The  punishment  of  the  deceiver  and  the  deceived 379 

Chapter   XII. — Of    the    crowd    of    the    devils,    and   the   disturbance   which   they   always   raise    in    our 

atmosphere 3  79 

Chapter  XIII.  —  Of  the  fact  that  opposing  powers  turn  the  attack  which  they  aim  at  men,  even  against  each 

other 380 

Chapter  XIV.  — How  it  is  that  spiritual  wickedness  obtained  the  names  of  powers  or  principalities 380 

Chapter  XV.  —  Of  the  fact  that  it  is  not  without  reason  that  the  names  of  angels  and  archangels  are  given 

to  holy  and  heavenly  powers 381 

Chapter  XVI. — Of   the  subjection  of   the  devils,  which   they  show  to  their  own  princes,   as  seen   in  a 

brother's  vision. 381 

Chapter  XVII.- — Of  the  fact  that  two  angels  always  cling  to  every  man 381 

Chapter  XVIII.— Of  the  degrees  of  wickedness  which  exist  in  hostile  spirits,  as  shown  in  the  case  of  two 

philosophers 382 

Chapter  XIX. — Of   the  fact  that    devils  cannot  prevail  at  all  against  men  unless  they  have  first  secured 

possession  of  their  minds ; 382 

Chapter  XX. — A  question  about  the  fallen  angels  who  are  said  in  Genesis  to  have  had  intercourse  with* the 

daughters  of  men 382 

Chapter  XXI.  —  The  answer  to  the  question  raised 383 

Chapter  XXII. — An  objection  as  to  how  an  unlawful  intermingling  with  the  daughters   of  Cain  could  be 

charged  against  the  line  of  Seth  before  the  prohibition  of  the  law 384 

Chapter  XXIII. — The  answer  that  by  the  law  of  nature  men  were  from  the  beginning  liable  to  judgment 

and  punishment 3S4 

Chapter  XXIV.  — Of  the  fact  that  they  were  justly  punished  who  sinned  before  the  flood 385 

Chapter  XXV.  — How  this  that  is  said  of  the  devil  in  the  Gospel  is  to  be  understood,  viz.,  that  "  he  is  a  liar 

and  his  father  " ■   386 


IX. — The  First  Conference  of  Abbot  Isaac;  on  Prayer. 

Chapter  I.  —  Introduction  to  the  Conference. 387 

Chapter  II.  — The  words  of  Abbot  Isaac  on  the  nature  of  prayer 387 

Chapter  III.  —  How  pure  and  sincere  prayer  can  be  gained 388 

Chapter  IV.  — Of  the  lightness  of  the  soul  which  may  be  compared  to  a  wing  or  feather 3^8 

Chapter  V.  —  Of  the  ways  in  which  our  soul  is  weighed  down 388 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  the  vision  which  a  certain  elder  saw  concerning  the  restless  work  of  a  brother 3^9 

Chapter  VII.  - — ■  A  question  how  it  is  that  it  is  harder  work  to  preserve  than  to  originate  good  thoughts 390 

Chapter  VIII.  —  The  answer  on  the  different  characters  of  prayer 390 

Chapter  IX.  — Of  the  four  kinds  of  prayer 391 

Chapter  X.  —  Of  the  order  of  the  different  kinds  laid  down  with  regard  to  the  character  of  prayer 391 

Chapter  XI.  —  Of  supplication 391 

Chapter  XII.  —Of   prayer 391 

Chapter  XIII.  — Of  intercession. 391 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Of   thanksgiving. • 392 

Chapter  XV.  —  Whether  these   four  kinds  of  prayers  are  necessary  for  every  one  to  offer  all  at   once   or 

separately  and  in  turns. 392 

Chapter  XVI.  — Of  the  kinds  of  prayer  to  which  we  ought  to  direct  ourselves 392 

Chapter  XVII.  —  How  the  four  kinds  of  supplication  were  originated  by  the  Lord 393 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  Of  the  Lord's  Prayer 393 

Chapter  XIX.  — Of  the  clause  "Thy  kingdom  come  " 394 

Chapter  XX.  —  Of  the  clause  "Thy  will  be  done" 394 

Chapter  XXI.  —  Of  our  supersubstantial  or  daily  bread 394 

Chapter  XXII. — Of  the  clause  "Forgive  us  our  debts,  etc." 395 

Chapter  XXIII.  —  Of  the  clause  ' '  Lead  us  not  into  temptation  " 395 

Chapter  XXIV.  —  How  we  ought  not  to  ask  for  other  things,  except  only  those  which  are  contained  in  the 

limits  of  the  Lord's  Prayer 396 

Chapter  XXV.  —  Of  the  character  of  the  sublimer  prayer 396 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  Of  the  different  causes  of  conviction 396 


174  CONTENTS. 


PAGB 

Chapter  XXVII.  —  Of  the  different  sorts  of  conviction 396 

Chapter  XXVIII.  —  A  question  about  the  fact  that  a  plentiful  supply  of  tears  is  not  in  our  own  power 397 

Chapter  XXIX.  — The  answer  on  the  varieties  of  conviction  which  spring  from  tears 397 

Chapter  XXX.  —  How  tears  ought  not  to  be  squeezed  out,  when  they  do  not  flow  spontaneously 397 

Chapter  XXXI.  — The  opinion  of  Abbot  Antony  on  the  condition  of  prayer 398 

Chapter  XXXII.  — Of  the  proof  of  prayer  being  heard 398 

Chapter  XXXIII.  — An  objection  that  the  confidence  of  being  heard  as  described  belongs  only  to  saints- .  •  398 

Chapter  XXXIV.  — The  answer  on  the  different  reasons  for  prayer  being  heard 398 

Chapter  XXXV.  —  Of  prayer  to  be.  offered  within  the  chamber  and  with  the  door  shut 400 

Chapter  XXXVI.  —  Of  the  value  of  short  and  silent  prayer 400 

X. — The  Second  Conference  of  Abbot  Isaac;  on  Prayer. 

Chapter   I.  —  Introduction 401 

Chapter  II.  — Of  the  custom  which  is  kept  up  in  the  Province  of  Egypt  for  signifying  the  time  of  Easter..  401 
Chapter  III.  — Of  Abbot  Serapion,  and  the  heresy  of  the  Anthropomorphites,  into  which  he  fell  in  the 

error  of  simplicity. 402 

Chapter  IV.  —  Of  our  return  to  Abbot  Isaac  and  question  concerning  the  error  into  which  the  aforesaid  old 

man  had  fallen 402 

Chapter  V.  —  The  answer  on  the  origin  of  the  heresy  described  above 403 

Chapter  VI. — Of  the  reasons  why  Jesus  Christ  appears  to  each  one  of  us  either  in  His  humility  or  in  His 

glorified  condition 403 

Chapter  VII.  — What  constitutes  our  end  and  perfect  bliss 404 

Chapter  VIII.  — A  question  on  the  training  in  perfection  by  which  we  can  arrive  at  perpetual  recollection 

of  God 404 

Chapter  IX.  — The  answer  on  the  efficacy  of  understanding  which  is  gained  by  experience 405 

Chapter  X.  —  Of  the  method  of  continual  prayer 405 

Chapter  XL  — Of  the  perfection  of  prayer,  to  which  we  can  rise  by  the  system  described 407 

Chapter  XII.  — A  question  as  to  how  spiritual  thoughts  can  be  retained  without  losing  them 408 

Chapter  XIII.  —  Of  the  lightness  of  thoughts 408 

Chapter  XIV.  —  The  answer  how  we  can  gain  stability  of  hearts  or  of  thoughts 409 


THE   SECOND   PART   OF    TPIE   CONFERENCES   OF  JOHN   CASSIAN,   CONTAINING   XI.- 

XVII.     PREFACE. 

XI. — The  First  Conference  of  Abbot  Chceremon;  on  Perfection. 

Chapter  I.  —  Description  of  the  town  of  Thennesus 415 

Chapter  II.  — Of  Bishop  Archebius 415 

Chapter  III.  — Description  of  the  desert  where  Chceremon,  Nesteros,  and  Joseph  lived 416 

Chapter  IV.  — Of  Abbot  Chceremon  and  his- excuse  about  the  teaching  which  we  asked  for 416 

Chapter  V.  —  Of  our  answer  to  his  excuse 416 

Chapter  VI.  — Abbot  Chceremon's  statements  that  faults  can  be  overcome  in  three  ways 416 

Chapter  VII.  — By  what  steps  we  can  ascend  to  the  heights  of  love,  and  what  permanence  there  is  in  it.  ■  • .  417 

Chapter  VIII.  —  How  greatly  those  excel  who  depart  from  sin  through  the  feeling  of  love 418 

Chapter  IX.  — That  love  not  only  makes  sons  out  of  servants,  but  also  bestows  the  image  and  likeness  of 

God 41S 

Chapter  X.  —  How  it  is  the  perfection  of  love  to  pray  for  one's  enemies,  and  by  what  signs  we  may  recog- 
nize a  mind  that  is  not  yet  purified 419 

Chapter  XI.  — A  question  why  he  has  called  the  feeling  of  fear  and  hope  imperfect 419 

Chapter  XII.  —  The  answer  on  the  different  kinds  of  perfection 420 

Chapter  XIII.  —  Of  the  fear  which  is  the  outcome  of  the  greatest  love 421 

Chapter  XIV.  —  A  question  about  complete  chastity 422 

Chapter  XV.  —  The  postponement  of  the  explanation  which  is  asked  for 422 

XII. — The  Second  Conference  of  Abbot  Chceremon;  on  Chastity.1 

XIII. — The  Third  Conference  of  Abbot  Chceremon;  on  the  Protection  of  God. 

Chapter  I.  —  Introduction 422 

Chapter  II.  —  A  question  why  the  merit  of  good  deeds  may  not  be  ascribed  to  the  exertions  of  the  man 

who  does  them 423 

Chapter  III. — The  answer  that  without  God*s  help,  not  only  perfect  chastity,  but   good  of  every  kind, 

cannot  be  performed 423 

1  Omitted  in  the  translation. 


CONTENTS.  175 


PAGE 

Chapter  IV.  — An  objection,  asking  how  the  Gentiles  can  be  said  to  have  chastity  without  the  grace  of  God,  424 

Chapter  V.  —  The  answer  on  the  imaginary  chastity  of  the  philosophers 424 

Chapter  VI.  — That  without  the  grace  of  God  we  cannot  make  any  diligent  efforts 424 

Chapter  VII.  —  Of  the  main  purpose  of  God,  and  His  daily  providence 425 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Of  the  grace  of  God  and  the  freedom  of  the  will 426 

Chapter  IX.  — Of  the  power  of  our  good  will,  and  the  grace  of  God 426 

Chapter  X.  —  Of  the  weakness  of  free-will 427 

Chapter  XI.  — Whether  the  grace  of  God  precedes  or  follows  our  good  will 427 

Chapter  XII.  — That  a  good  will  should  not  always  be  attributed  to  grace,  nor  always  to  man  himself 428 

Chapter  XIII.  —  How  human  efforts  cannot  be  set  against  the  grace  of  God 430 

Chapter  XIV.  —  How  God  makes  trial  of  the  strength  of  man's  will  by  means  of  his  temptations 430 

Chapter  XV.  —  Of  the  manifold  grace  of  men's  calls 432 

Chapter  XVI.  — Of  the  grace  of  God,  to  the  effect  that  it  transcends  the  narrow  limits  of  human  faith  ....   433 

Chapter  XVII.  —  Of  the  inscrutable  providence  of  God 433 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  The  decision  of  the  Fathers  that  free-will  is  not  equal  to  save  a  man 434 

XIV.  —  The  First  Conference  of  Abbot  Nesteros  ;  on  Spiritual  Knowledge. 

Chapter  I.  —  The  words  of  Abbot  Nesteros  on  the  knowledge  of  the  religious 435 

Chapter  II.  — Of  grasping  the  knowledge  of  spiritual  things *. 435 

Chapter  III.  —  How  practical  perfection  depends  on  a  double  system 435 

Chapter  IV.  —  How  practical  life  is  distributed  among  many  different  professions  and  interests 436 

Chapter  V.  —  Of  perseverance  in  the  line  that  has  been  chosen 436 

Chapter  VI.  —  How  the  weak  are  easily  moved 436 

Chapter  VII.  —  An  instance  of  chastity  which  teaches  us  that  all  men  should  not  be  emulous  of  all  things..  437 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Of  spiritual  knowledge 437 

Chapter  IX.  —  How  from  practical  knowledge  we  must  proceed  to  spiritual 438 

Chapter  X.  —  How  to  embrace  the  system  of  true  knowledge 439 

Chapter  XI.  —  Of  the  manifold  meaning  of  Holy  Scripture 440 

Chapter  XII.  — A  question  how  we  can  attain  to  forgetfulness  of  the  cares  of  this  world 441 

Chapter  XIII.  —  Of  the  method  by  which  we  can  remove  the  dross  from  our  memory 441 

Chapter  XIV.  —  How  an  unclean  soul  can  neither  give  nor  receive  spiritual  knowledge 442 

Chapter  XV.  — An  objection  owing  to  the  fact  that  many  impure  persons  have  knowledge  while  saints  have 

not 442 

Chapter  XVI.  — The  answer  to  the  effect  that  bad  men  cannot  possess  true  knowledge 443 

Chapter  XVII.  —  To  whom  the  method  of  perfection  shall  be  laid  open 444 

Chapter  XVIII.  — Of  the  reasons  for  which  spiritual  learning  is  unfruitful.. 445 

Chapter  XIX.  —  How  often  even  those  who  are  not  worthy  can  receive  the  grace  of  the  saving  word 445 

XV.  —  The  Second  Conference  of  Abbot  Nesteros;  on  Divine  Gifts. 

Chapter  I.  —  Discourse  of  Abbot  Nesteros  on  the  threefold  system  of  gifts 445 

Chapter  II.  —  Wherein  one  ought  to  admire  the  saints 446 

Chapter  III.  —  Of  a  dead  man  raised  to  life  by  Abbot  Macarius 446 

Chapter  IV.  —  Of  the  miracle  which  Abbot  Abraham  wrought  on  the  breasts  of  a  woman 447 

Chapter  V.  — Of  the  cure  of  a  lame  man  which  the  same  saint  wrought 447 

Chapter  VI.  —  How  the  merits  of  each  man  should  not  be  judged  by  his  miracles 447 

Chapter  VII.  — How  the  excellence  of  gifts  consists,  not  in  miracles,  but  in  humility 448 

Chapter  VIII. — How  it  is  more  wonderful  to  have  cast  out  one's  faults  from  one's  self  than  devils  from 

another 448 

Chapter  IX.  —  How  uprightness  of  life  is  of  more  importance  than  the  working  of  miracles 449 

Chapter  X.  —  A  revelation  on  the  trial  of  perfect  chastity ■  449 

XVI. — The  First  Conference  of  Abbot  Joseph;  on  Friendship. 

Chapter  I.  —  What  Abbot  Joseph  asked  us  in  the  first  instance 450 

Chapter  II.  —  Discourse  of  the  same  elder  on  the  untrustworthy  sort  of  friendship 450 

Chapter  III.  —  How  friendship  is  indissoluble 450 

Chapter    IV.  — A  question   whether   anything   that   is    really   useful  should  be   performed   even   against   a 

brother's  wish 451 

Chapter  V.  —  The  answer,  how  a  lasting  friendship  can  only  exist  among  those  who  are  perfect 451 

Chapter  VI.  —  By  what  means  union  can  be  preserved  unbroken 45 1, 

Chapter  VII.  —  How  nothing  should  be  put  before  love  or  after  anger 452 

Chapter  VIII.  —  On  what  grounds  a  dispute  can  arise  among  spiritual  persons 453 

Chapter  IX.  —  How  to  get  rid  even  of  spiritual  grounds  of  discord 453 

Chapter  X.  —  Of  the  best  test  of  truth 453 

Chapter  XI.  —  How  it  is  impossible  for  one  who  trusts  to  his  own  judgment  to  escape  being  deceived  by  the 

devil's  illusion 453 


176 


CONTENTS. 


PAGB 

Chapter  XII.  - —  Why  inferiors  should  not  be  despised  in  conference 454 

Chapter  XIII.  —  How  love  does  not  only  belong  to  God,  but  is  God 454 

Chapter  XIV.  —  On  the  different  grades  of  love 454 

Chapter  XV.  — Of  those  who  only  increase  their  own  or  their  brother's  grievances  by  hiding  them 455 

Chapter  XVI.  —  How  it  is   that   if  our  brother  has  any  grudge  against   us,  the    gifts  of    our  prayers  are 

rejected  by  the  Lord 455 

Chapter  XVII. — Of  those  who  hold  that  patience  should  be  shown  to  worldly  people  rather  than  to  the 

brethren 455 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  Of  those  who  pretend  to  patience,  but  excite  their  brethren  to  anger  by  their  silence  •  •  •  •  456 

Chapter  XIX.  —  Of  those  who  fast  put  of  rage 457 

Chapter  XX.  — Of  the  feigned  patience  of  some  who  offer  the  other  cheek  to  be  smitten 457 

Chapter  XXI. — A  question  how  if  we  obey  the  commands  of  Christ  we  can  fail  of  evangelical  perfection..  457 

Chapter  XXII.  — The  answer  that  Christ  looks  not  only  at  the  action,  but  also  at  the  will 457 

Chapter  XXIII.  —  How  he  is  the  strong  and  vigorous  man,  who  yields  to  the  will  of  another 458 

Chapter  XXIV.  —  How  the  weak  are  harmful  and  cannot  bear  wrongs 45S 

Chapter  XXV.  — A  question  how  he  can  be  strong  who  does  not  always  support  the  weak 458 

Chapter  XXVI.  — The  answer  that  the  weak  does  not  always  allow  himself  to  be  borne 458 

Chapter  XXVII.  —  How  anger  should  be  repressed 459 

Chapter  XXVIII.  —  How  friendships  entered  upon  by  conspiracy  cannot  be  lasting  ones 460 

XVII.  —  The  Second  Conference  of  Abbot  Joseph;  on  Making  Promises. 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  the  vigils  which  we  endured. 460 

Chapter  II.  — Of  the  anxiety  of  Abbot  Germanus  at  the  recollection  of  our  promise 460 

Chrpter  III.  —  My  ideas  on  this  subject 460 

Chapter  IV.  — Abbot  Joseph's  question,  and  our  answer  on  the  origin  of  our  anxiety 461 

Chapter  V. — The  explanation  of  Abbot  Germanus  why  we  wanted  to  stay  in  Egypt,  and  were  drawn  back 

to  Syria 461 

Chapter  VI.  —  Abbot  Joseph's  question  whether  we  got  more  good  in  Egypt  than  in  Syria. 461 

Chapter  VII.  —  The  answer  on  the  difference  of  customs  in  the  two  countries 461 

Chapter  VIII. — How  those  who   are  perfect  ought   not  to    make    any  promises  absolutely,  and  whether 

decisions  can  be  reversed  without  sin 462 

Chapter  IX.  —  How  it  is  often  better  to  break  one's  engagements  than  to  fulfil  them 462 

Chapter  X.  —  Our  question  about  our  fear  of  the  oath  which  we  gave  in  the  monastery  in  Syria 462 

Chapter  XI.  — The  answer  that  we  must  take  into  account  the  purpose  of  the  doer  rather  than  the  execution 

of  the  business 463 

Chapter  XII. — How  a  fortunate  issue  will  be  of  no  avail  to  evil-doers,  while  bad  deeds  will  not  injure 

good  men 463 

Chapter  XIII.  —  Our  answer  as  to  the  reason  which  demanded  an  oath  from  us 463 

Chapter  XIV.  — The  discourse  of  the  elder,  showing  how  the  plan  of  action  may  be  changed  without  fault 

provided  that  one  keeps  to  the  carrying-out  of  a  good  intention 464 

Chapter  XV. —A  question  whether  it  can  be  without  sin  that  our  knowledge  affords  to  weak  brethren  an 

opportunity  for  lying 464 

Chapter  XVI. — The  answer  that  Scripture  truth  is  not  to  be  altered  on  account  of  an  offence  given  to  the 

weak 464 

Chapter  XVII.  —  How  the  saints  have  profitably  employed  a  lie  like  hellebore 464 

Chapter  XVIII. — An  objection  that  only  those  men  employed  lies  with  impunity  who  lived  under  the  law..  465 
Chapter  XIX. — The  answer  that  leave  to  lie,  which  was  not  even  granted  under  the  old  Covenant,  has 

rightly  been  taken  by  many 466 

Chapter  XX.  —  How  even  Apostles  thought  that  a  lie  was  often  useful,  and  the  truth  injurious 467 

Chapter  XXI.  — Whether  secret  abstinence  ought  to  be  made  known,  without  telling  a  lie  about  it,  to  those 

who  ask,  and  whether  what  has  once  been  declined  may  be  taken  in  hand 468 

Chapter    XXII. — An    objection    that  abstinence  ought   to  be  concealed,  but   that  things  that   have  been 

declined  should  not  be  received 469 

Chapter  XXIII.  — The  answer  that  obstinacy  in  this  decision  is  unreasonable - 469 

Chapter  XXIV.  —  How  Abbot  Piamun  chose  to  hide  his  abstinence 469 

Chapter  XXV.  — The  evidence  of  Scripture  on  changes  of  determination 469 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  How  saintly  men  cannot  be  hard  and  obstinate 472 

Chapter  XXVII. — A  question  whether  the  saying,  "I  have  sworn  and  am  purposed,"  is  opposed  to  the 

view  given  above 472 

Chapter  XXVIII.  —  The  answer  telling  in  what  cases  the  determination  is  to  be  kept  fixedly,  and  in  what 

cases  it  may  be  broken  if  need  be 473 

Chapter  XXIX.  —  How  we  ought  to  do  those  things  which  are  to  be  kept  secret 473 

Chapter  XXX. — That  no  determination  should  be  made  on  those  things  which  concern  the  needs  of  the 

common  life 473 


CONTENTS.  177 


THE  THIRD   PART   OF    THE   CONFERENCES   OF    JOHN   CASSIAN,   CONTAINING    XVIII.-XXIV. 

PREFACE. 

XVIII. — Conference  of  Abbot  Piamun;  on  the  Three  Sorts  of  Monks. 

PAGE 

Chapter  I.  —  How  we  came  to  Diolcos  and  were  received  by  Abbot  Piamun 479 

Chapter  II. — The  words   of   Abbot    Piamun,  how  monks  who  were  novices  ought  to  be    taught    by  the 

example  of  their  elders 479 

Chapter  III.  —  How  the  juniors  ought  not  to  discuss  the  orders  of  the  seniors 480 

Chapter  IV.  —  Of  the  three  sorts  of  monks  which  there  are  in  Egypt 480 

Chapter  V.  —  Of  the  founders  who  originated  the  order  of  Ccenobites 480 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  the  system  of  the  Anchorites  and  its  beginning 481 

Chapter  VII.  —  Of  the  origin  of  the  Sarabaites,  and  their  mode  of  life 482 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Of  a  fourth  sort  of  monks 483 

Chapter  IX.  — A  question  as  to  what  is  the  difference  between  a  Ccenobium  and  a  monastery 483 

Chapter  X.  —  The  answer 483 

Chapter  XI.  —  Of  true  humility;    and  how  Abbot  Serapion  exposed  the  mock  humility  of  a  certain  man. .  . .  483 

Chapter  XII.  —  A  question  how  true  patience  can  be  gained 484 

Chapter  XIII.  —  The  answer 484 

Chapter  XIV.  —  Of  the  example  of  patience  given  by  a  certain  religious  woman 485 

Chapter  XV.  —  Of  the  example  of  patience  given  by  Abbot  Paphnutius *  . . . .  486 

Chapter  XVI.  —  Of  the  perfection  of  patience 487 

XIX.  —  Conference  of  Abbot  John;  on  the  Aim  of  the  Ccenobite  and  Hermit. 

Chapter  I.  — Of  the  Ccenobium  of  Abbot  Paul,  and  the  patience  of  a  certain  brother 489 

Chapter  II.  —  Of  Abbot  John's  humility,  and  our  question 490 

Chapter  III.  —  Abbot  John's  answer  why  he  had  left  the  desert 490 

Chapter  IV.  — Of  the  excellence  which  the  aforesaid  old  man  showed  in  the  system  of  the  Anchorites 490 

Chapter  V.  —  Of  the  advantages  of  the  desert 491 

Chapter  VI.  —  Of  the  conveniences  of  the  Ccenobium 491 

Chapter  VII.  —  A  question  on  the  fruits  of  the  Ccenobium  and  the  desert 492 

Chapter  VIII.  —  The  answer  to  the  question  proposed 492 

Chapter  IX.  —  Of  true  and  complete  perfection 493 

Chapter  X.  —  Of  those  who  while  still  imperfect  retire  into  the  desert 493 

Chapter  XI.  — A  question  how  to  cure  those  who  have  hastily  left  the  congregation  of  the  Ccenobium 493 

Chapter  XII.  —  The  answer  telling  how  a  solitary  can  discover  his  faults 494 

Chapter  XIII. — A  question  how  a  man  can  be  cured  who  has  entered  on  solitude  without  having  his  faults 

eradicated 494 

Chapter  XIV.  —  The  answer  on  their  remedies 494 

Chapter  XV.  — A  question  whether  chastity  ought  to  be  ascertained  just  as  the  other  feelings 495 

Chapter  XVI.  — The  answer,  giving  the  proofs  by  which  it  can  be  recognized 496 


XX.  —  Conference  of  Abbot  Pinufius;  on  the  End  of  Penitence  and  the  Marks  of  Satisfaction. 

Chapter  I.  —  Of  the  humility  of  Abbot  Pinufius,  and  of  his  hiding-place 496 

Chapter  II.  —  Of  our  coming  to  him 497 

Chapter  III.  —  A  question  on  the  end  of  penitence  and  the  marks  of  satisfaction 497 

Chapter  IV.  —  The  answer  on  the  humility  shown  by  our  request 498 

Chapter  V.  —  Of  the  method  of  penitence  and  the  proof  of  pardon 498 

Chapter  VI.  — A  question  whether  our  sins  ought  to  be  remembered  out  of  contrition  of  heart 498 

Chapter  VII.  —  The  answer  showing  how  far  we  ought  to  preserve  the  recollection  of  previous  actions'  ....    499 

Chapter  VIII.  —  Of  the  various  fruits  of  penitence 499 

Chapter  IX.  —  How  valuable  to  the  perfect  is  the  forgetfulness  of  sin 501 

Chapter  X.  —  How  the  recollection  of  our  sin  should  be  avoided 501 

Chapter  XI.  — Of  the  marks  of  satisfaction,  and  the  removal  of  past  sins 502 

Chapter  XII.  —  Wherein  we  must  do  penance  for  a  time  only,  and  wherein  it  can  have  no  end 502 


XXI. — The  First  Conference  of  Abbot  Theonas;  on  the  Relaxation  during  the  Fifty  Days. 

Chapter  I.  —  How  Theonas  came  to  Abbot  John 503 

Chapter  II.  — The  exhortation  of  Abbot  John  to  Theonas,  and  the  others  who  had  come  together  with  him.  503 

Chapter  III.  —  Of  the  offering  of  tithes  and  first-fruits 503 

Chapter  IV.  —  How  Abraham,  David,  and  other  saints  went  beyond  the  requirements  of  the  law 504 

Chapter  V.  —  How  those  who  live  under  the  grace  of  the  Gospel  ought  to  go  beyond  the  requirements  of 
the  law 504 


1 73 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Chapter  VI.  —  How  the  grace    of   the   Gospel    supports   the  weak  so  that  they  can  obtain  pardon,  as  it 

secures  to  the  perfect  the  kingdom  of  God 5°5 

Chapter  VII.  —  How  it  lies  in  our  own  power  to  choose  whether  to  remain  under   the  grace  of  the  Gospel, 

or  under  the  terror  of  the  law 505 

Chapter  VIII.  —  How  Theonas  exhorted  his  wife  that  she  too  should  make  her  renunciation 505 

Chapter  IX.  — How  he  fled  to  a  monastery  when  his  wife  would  not  consent 506 

Chapter  X.  —  An  explanation  that  we  may  not  appear  to  recommend  separation  from  wives 507 

Chapter  XI. — An  inquiry  why  in  Egypt  they  do  not  fast  during  all  the  fifty  days  (of  Easter),  nor  bend 

their  knees  in  prayer. 5°7 

Chapter  XII.  —  The  answer  on  the  nature  of  things  good,  bad,  and  indifferent 507 

Chapter  XIII.  —  What  kind  of  good  fasting  is 508 

Chapter  XIV.  —  How  fasting  is  not  good  in  its  own  nature 508 

Chapter  XV.  — How  a  thing  that  is  good  in  its  own  nature  ought  not  to  be  done  for  the  sake  of  some  lesser 

good •  • 509 

Chapter  XVI.  —  How  what  is  good  in  its  own  nature  can  be  distinguished  from  other  things  that  are  good- .   510 

Chapter  XVII.  —  Of  the  reason  for  fasting  and  its  value 510 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  How  fasting  is  not  always  suitable 510 

Chapter  XIX.  —  A  question  why  we  break  the  fast  all  through  Eastertide 511 

Chapter  XX.  —  The  answer 511 

Chapter  XXI.  —  A  question  whether  the  relaxation  of  the  fast  is  not  prejudicial  to  the  chastity  of  the  body.   511 

Chapter  XXII.  —  The  answer  on  the  way  to  keep  control  over  abstinence 511 

Chapter  XXIII.  —  Of  the  time  and  measure  of  refreshment 512 

Chapter  XXIV.  — A  question  on  the  different  ways  of  keeping  Lent 513 

Chapter  XXV.  — The  answer  to  the  effect  that  the  fast  of  Lent  has  reference  to  the  tithe  of  the  year 513 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  How  we  ought  also  to  offer  our  first  fruits  to  the  Lord 513 

Chapter  XXVII.  — Why  Lent  is  kept  by  many  with  a  different  number  of  days 514 

Chapter  XXVIII.  — Why  it  is  called  Quadragesima,  when  the  fast  is  only  kept  for  thirty-six  days 514 

Chapter  XXIX.  — How  those  who  are  perfect  go  beyond  the  fixed  rule  of  Lent 515 

Chapter  XXX.  — Of  the  origin  and  beginning  of  Lent 515 

Chapter   XXXI. — A  question   how  we    ought  to   understand   the   Apostle's  words:   "Sin  shall  not  have 

dominion  over  you  "••? 5J6 

Chapter  XXXII.  — The  answer  on  the  difference  between  grace  and  the  commands  of  the  law 516 

Chapter  XXXIII.  — Of  the  fact  that  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel  are  milder  than  those  of  the  law 516 

Chapter  XXXIV.  —  How  a  man  can  be  shown  to  be  under  grace 517 

Chapter  XXXV. — A   question   why  some   times,  when   we  are  fasting   more  strictly  than  usual,  we  are 

troubled  by  carnal  desires  more  keenly  than  usual 518 

Chapter  XXXVI.  — The  answer  telling  that  this  question  should  be  reserved  for  a  future  conference 518 

XXII. — The  Second  Conference  of  Abbot  Theonas;  on  Nocturnal  Illusions.1 

XXIII. — The  Third  Conference  of  Abbot  Theonas;  on  Sinlessness. 

Chapter  I.  — Discourse  of  Abbot  Theonas  on  the  Apostle's  words:  "  For  I  do  not  the  good  that  I  would  ". .  519 

Chapter  II.  —  How  the  Apostle  completed  many  good  actions 520 

Chapter  III.  — What  is  the  really  good  which  the  Apostle  testifies  that  he  could  not  perform 520 

Chapter  IV.  —  How  man's  goodness  and  righteousness  are  not  good  if  compared  with  the  goodness  and 

righteousness  of  God 521 

Chapter  V.  ■ —  How  no  one  can  be  continually  intent  upon  that  highest  good 521 

Chapter  VI.  —  How  those  who  think  that  they  are  without  sin  are  like  purblind  people 523 

Chapter  VII.  —  How  those  who  maintain  that  a  man  can  be  without  sin  are  charged  with  a  twofold  error..  523 

Chapter  VIII.  — How  it  is  given  to  but  few  to  understand  what  sin  is 524 

Chapter  IX.  — Of  the  care  with  which  a  monk  should  preserve  the  recollection  of  God 524 

Chapter  -X.  —  How  those  who  are  on  the  way  to  perfection  are  truly  humble,  and  feel  that  they  always 

stand  in  need  of  God's  grace 525 

Chapter  XI.  —  Explanation  of  the  phrase:   "  For  I  delight  in  the  law  of  God  after  the  inner  man,  etc." 525 

Chapter  XII.  —  Of  this  also:   "  But  we  know  that  the  law  is  spiritual,  etc." 526 

Chapter  XIII.  —  Of  this  also:  "  But  I  know  that  in  me,  that  is,  in  my  flesh,  dwelleth  no  good  thing  "  — .  526 
Chapter  XIV. — An  objection  that  the  saying,   "For  I  do  not  the  good  that  I  would,  etc.,"  applies  to  the 

persons  neither  of  unbelievers  nor  of  saints 527 

Chapter  XV.  —  The  answer  to  the  objection  raised 527 

Chapter  XVI.  —  What  is  the  body  of  sin 528 

Chapter  XVII.  —  How  all  the  saints  have  confessed  with  truth  that  they  were  unclean  and  sinful 529 

Chapter  XVIII.  — That  even  good  and  holy  men  are  not  without  sin 530 

Chapter  XIX.  —  How  even  in  the  hour  of  prayer  it  is  almost  impossible  to  avoid  sin 530 

Chapter  XX.  —  From  whom  we  can  learn  the  destruction  of  sin,  and  perfection  of  goodness 531 

Chapter  XXI. — That,  although  we  acknowledge  that  we  cannot  be  without  sin,  yet  still  we  ought  not  to 

suspend  ourselves  from  the  Lord's  communion 531 

1  Omitted  in  the  translation. 


CONTENTS.  179 


XXIV.  —  Conference  of  Abbot  Abraham;  on  Mortification. 

PAGE 

Chapter  I.  —  How  we  laid  bare  the  secrets  of  our  thoughts  to  Abbot  Abraham 531 

Chapter  II.  —  How  the  old  man  exposed  our  errors 532 

Chapter  III.  —  Of  the  character  of  the  districts  which  Anchorites  ought  to  seek 533 

Chapter  IV.  —  What  sorts  of  work  should  be  chosen  by  Solitaries 533 

Chapter  V.  ■ — -That  anxiety  of  heart  is  made  worse  rather  than  better  by  restlessness  of  body 533 

Chapter  VI.  —  A  comparison  showing  how  a  monk  ought  to  keep  guard  over  his  thoughts 534 

Chapter  VII. — A   question   why  the  neighbourhood   of    our   kinsfolk   is   considered  to    interfere   with  us, 

whereas  it  does  not  interfere  in  the  case  of  those  living  in  Egypt 534 

Chapter  VIII.  —  The  answer  that  all  things  are  not  suitable  for  all  men 534 

Chapter  IX. — -That  those  need  not  fear  the  neighbourhood  of  their  kinsfolk,  who  can  emulate  the  mortifica- 
tion of  Abbot  Apollos 535 

Chapter  X.  — A  question  whether  it  is  bad  for  a  monk  to  have  his  wants  supplied  by  his  kinsfolk 535 

Chapter  XI.  —  The  answer  stating  what  Saint  Antony  laid  down  on  this  matter 536 

Chapter  XII.  —  Of  the  value  of  work,  and  the  harm  of  idleness 536 

Chapter  XIII. — A    story    of    a   barber's    payments,    introduced    for   the    sake   of    recognizing   the    devil's 


illusions 


537 


Chapter  XIV.  — ■  A  question  how  such  wrong  notions  can  creep  into  us 538 

Chapter  XV.  —  The  answer  on  the  threefold  movement  of  the  soul 538 

Chapter  XVI.  — That  the  rational  part  of  our  soul  is  corrupt. 538 

Chapter  XVII.  —  How  the  weaker  part  of  the  soul  is  the  first  to  yield  to  the  devil's  temptations 538 

Chapter  XVIII. — A  question  whether  we  should  be   drawn  back  to  our  country  by  a  proper  desire  for 

greater  silence 535 

Chapter  XIX.  ■ — The  answer  on  the  devil's  illusion,  because  he  promises  us  the  peace  of  a  vaster  solitude..  539 

Chapter  XX.  —  How  useful  is  relaxation  on  the  arrival  of  brethren 540 

Chapter  XXI.  — -  How  the  Evangelist  John  is  said  to  have  shown  the  value  of  relaxation 540 

Chapter  XXII.  — -A  question  how  we  ought  to  understand  what  the  Gospel  says:   "  My  yoke  is  easy,  and 

my  burden  is  light  " 541 

Chapter  XXIII.  — The  answer,  with  the  explanation  of  the  saying 541 

Chapter  XXIV.  —  Why  the  Lord's  yoke  is  felt  grievous  and  His  burden  heavy 541 

Chapter  XXV.  —  Of  the  good  which  an  attack  of  temptations  brings  about 542 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  How  the  promise  of  an  hundredfold  in  this  life  is  made  to  those  whose  renunciation  is 

perfect 543 


THE   SEVEN   BOOKS   OF   JOHN   CASSIAN    ON    THE    INCARNATION    OF   THE    LORD    AGAINST 

NESTORIUS.     PREFACE. 

Book  I. 

Chapter  I.  —  The  heresy  compared  to  the  hydra  of  the  poets 55 1 

Chapter  II.  —  Description  of  the  different  heretical  monsters  which  spring  from  one  another 551 

Chapter  III.  —  He  describes  the  pestilent  error  of  the  Pelagians 552 

Chapter  IV.  —  Leporius,  together  with  some  others,  recants  his  Pelagianism 553 

Chapter  V.  — By  the  case  of  Leporius  he  establishes  the  fact  that  an  open  sin  ought  to  be  expiated  by  an 

open  confession,  and  also  teaches  from  his  words  what  is  the  right  view  to  be  held  on  the  Incarnation. . .  •  553 

Chapter  VI.  — The  united  doctrine  of  the  orthodox  is  to  be  received  as  the  Catholic  faith 555 


Book  II. 

Chapter  I.  —  How  the  errors  of  later  heretics  have  been  condemned  and  refuted  in  the  persons  of  their 

authors  and  originators 555 

Chapter  II.  — Proof  that  the  Virgin  Mother  of  God  was  not  only  Christotocos  but  also  Theotocos,  and  that 

Christ  is  truly  God 556 

Chapter  III.  — He  follows  up  the  same  argument  with  passages  from  the  Old  Testament 557 

Chapter  IV.  ■ —  He  produces  testimonies  to  the  same  doctrine  from  the  Apostle  Paul 559 

Chapter  V.  —  From  the  gifts  of  Divine  grace  which  we  receive  through  Christ  he  infers  that  He  is  truly  God.  560 
Chapter  VI.  — That  the  power  of  bestowing  Divine  grace  did  not  come  to  Christ  in  the  course  of  time,  but 

was  innate  in  Him  from  His  very  birth 561 

Chapter  VII.  — How  in  Christ  Divinity,  Majesty,  Might  and  Power  have  existed  in  perfection  from  eternity, 

and  will  continue 562 


i8o  CONTENTS. 


Book  III. 

PAGE 

Chapter  I.  —  That  Christ,  who  is  God  and  man  in  unity  of  person,  sprang  from  Israel  and  the  Virgin  Mary 

according  to  the  flesh 562 

Chapter  II.  — The  title  of  God  is  given  in  one  sense  to  Christ,  in  another  to  men 563 

Chapter  III.  —  He    explains   the   Apostle's   saying,   "  From  henceforth  we  know  no  man  according  to  the 

flesh,"    etc 563 

Chapter  IV.  —  From  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians  he  brings  forward  a  passage  to  show  that  the  weakness  of 

the  flesh  in  Christ  was  absorbed  by  His  Divinity 564 

Chapter  V.  — As  it  is  blasphemy  to  pare  away  the  Divinity  of  Christ,  so  also  is  it  blasphemous  to  deny  that 

He  is  true  man 564 

Chapter  VI.-— < -He  shows  from  the  appearance  of  Christ  vouchsafed  to  the  Apostle  when  persecuting  the 

Church,  the  existence  of  both  natures  in  Him 565 

Chapter  VII.  —  He  shows  once  more  by  other  passages  of  the  Apostle  that  Christ  is  God 566 

Chapter  VIII.  —  When  confessing  the  Divinity  of  Christ  we  ought  not  to  pass  over  in  silence  the  Confession 

of  the  Cross 567 

Chapter  IX.  — How  the  Apostle's  preaching  was  rejected  by  Jews  and  Gentiles  because  it  confessed  that 

the  crucified  Christ  was  God 567 

Chapter  X.  —  How  the  Apostle  maintains  that  Christ  is  the  power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God .  —  .  568 

Chapter  XI.  —  He  supports  the  same  doctrine  by  proofs  from  the  Gospel 569 

Chapter  XII.  —  He  proves  from  the  renowned  confession  of  the  blessed  Peter  that  Christ  is  God 569 

Chapter  XIII.  — The  confession  of  the  blessed  Peter  receives  a  testimony  to  its  truth  from  Christ  Himself..  570 

Chapter  XIV.  — How  the  confession  of  the  blessed  Peter  is  the  faith  of  the  whole  Church 570 

Chapter  XV.  —  St.  Thomas  also  confessed  the  same  faith  as  Peter  after  the  Lord's  resurrection 571 

Chapter  XVI.  —  He  brings  forward  the  witness  of  God  the  Father  to  the  Divinity  of  the  Son 572 

Book  IV. 

Chapter  I.  —  That  Christ  was  before  the  Incarnation  God  from  everlasting 573 

Chapter  II.  —  He  infers  from  what  he  has  said  that  the  Virgin  Mary  gave  birth  to  a  son  who  had  pre-existed 

and  was  greater  than  she  herself  was 574 

Chapter  III.  —  He  proves  from  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  the  eternal  Divinity  of  Christ 574 

Chapter  IV.  —  He  brings  forward  other  testimonies  to  the  same  view 575 

Chapter  V.  —  How  in  virtue  of  the  hypostatic  union  of  the  two  natures  in  Christ  the  Word  is  rightly  termed 

the  Saviour  or  incarnate  man,  and  the  Son  of  God 575 

Chapter  VI.  —  That  there  is  in  Christ  but  one  hypostasis 576 

Chapter  VII.  —  He  returns  to  the  former  subject  in  order  to  show  against  the  Nestorians  that  those  things 
are  said  of  the  man  which  belong  to  the  Divine  nature,  as  it  were,  of  a  person  of  Divine  nature,  and 
conversely  that  those  things  are  said  of  God  which  belong  to  the  human  nature,  as  it  were,  of  a  person 

of  human  nature,  because  there  is  in  Christ  but  one  and  a  single  personal  self 577 

Chapter  VIII.  —  How  this  interchange  of  titles  does  not  interfere  with  His  Divine  power 577 

Chapter  IX.  —  He  corroborates  this  statement  by  the  authority  of  the  old  prophets 578 

Chapter  X.  —  He  proves  Christ's  Divinity  from  the  blasphemy  of  Judaizing  Jews,  as  well  as  from  the  con- 
fession of  converts  to  the  faith  of  Christ 579 

Chapter  XI.  —  He  returns  to  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah 579 

Chapter  XII.  —  How  the  title  of  Saviour  is  given  to  Christ  in  one  sense,  and  to  riien  in  another 5S0 

Chapter  XIII.  —  He  explains  who  are  those  in  whose  person  the  prophet  Isaiah  says:   "Thou  art  our  God, 

and  we  knew  thee  not  " 580 

Book  V. 

Chapter  I.  —  He  vehemently  inveighs  against  the  error  of  the  Pelagians  who  declared  that  Christ  was  a  • 
mere  man 5^° 

Chapter  II.  — That  the  doctrine  of  Nestorius  is  closely  connected  with  the  error  of  the  Pelagians ....   581 

Chapter  III.  —  How  this  participation  in  Divinity  which  the  Pelagians  and  Nestorius  attribute  to  Christ  is 

common  to  all  holy  men • 5^2 

Chapter  IV.  — ■  What  the  difference  is  between  Christ  and  the  saints 5&2 

Chapter  V.  —  That  before  His  birth  in  time  Christ  was  always  called  God  by  the  prophets. 583 

Chapter  VI.  —  He  illustrates  the  same  doctrine  by  passages  from  the  New  Testament 584 

Chapter  VII.  —  He  shows  again  from  the  union  in  Christ  of  two  natures  in  one  person  that  what  belongs 

to  the  Divine  nature  may  rightly  be  ascribed  to  man,  and  what  belongs  to  the  human  nature  to  God 584 

Chapter  VIII.  —  He  confirms  the  judgment  of  the  Apostle  by  the  authority  of  the  Lord . 586 

Chapter  IX.  —  Since  those  marvellous  works  which  from  the  days  of  Moses  were  shown  to  the  children  of  5S6 

Israel  are  attributed  to  Christ,  it  follows  that  He  must  have  existed  long  before  His  birth  in  time 

Chapter  X.  —  He  explains  what  it  means  to  confess,  and  what  it  means  to  dissolve  Jesus 587 

Chapter  XL  —  The  mystery  of  the  Lord's  Incarnation  clearly  implies  the  Divinity  of  Christ 5S8 

Chapter  XII.  —  He  explains  more  fully  what  the  mystery  is,  which  is  signified  under  the  name  of  man  and 

wife 589 


CONTENTS.  181 


PAGE 


Chapter    XIII. — Of    the    longing    with  which    the   old    patriarchs    desired    to   see  the   revelation  of    that 

mystery 589 

Chapter   XIV.  —  He  refutes  the  wicked  and  blasphemous  notion  of  the  heretics  who  said  that  God  dwelt 

and  spoke  in  Christ  as  in  an  instrument  or  a  statue 590 

Chapter  XV.  —  What  the  prayers  of  the  saints  for  the  coming  of  Messiah  contained  ;   and  what  was  the 

nature  of  that  longing  of  theirs 590 

Book  VI. 

Chapter  I.  —  From  the  miracle  of  the  feeding  of  the  multitude  from  the  five  barley  loaves  and  two  fishes  he 

shows  the  majesty  of  Divine  power 591 

Chapter  II.  — The  author  adapts  the  mystery  of  the  number  seven  (made  up  of  ihejive  loaves  and  the  two 

fishes)  to  his  own  work 591 

Chapter  III.  —  He  refutes  his  opponent  by  the  testimony  of  the  Council  of  Antioch 592 

Chapter  IV.  — ■  How  the  Creed  has  authority  divine  as  well  as  human 593 

Chapter  V.  — ■  He  proceeds  against  his  opponent  with  the  choicest  arguments,  and  shows  that  we  ought  to 

hold  fast  to  the  religion  which  we  have  received   from  our  fathers 593 

Chapter  VI.  —  Once  more  he  challenges  him  to  the  profession  of  the  Creed  of  Antioch 594 

Chapter  VII.  —  He  continues  the  same  line  of  argument  drawn  from  the  Creed  of  Antioch 595 

Chapter  VIII.  —  How  it  can  be  said  that  Christ  came  and  was  born  of  a  Virgin 595 

Chapter  IX.  —  Again  he  convicts  his  opponent  of  deadly  heresy  by  his  own  confession 596 

Chapter  X.  —  He  inveighs  against  him  because  though  he  has  forsaken  the  Catholic  religion,  he  nevertheless 

presumes  to  teach  in  the  Church,  to  sacrifice,  and  to  give  decisions 596 

Chapter  XI.  —  He  removes  the  silent  objection  of  heretics  who  want  to  recant  the  profession  of  their   faith 

made  in  childhood 597 

Chapter  XII.  —  Christ  crucified  is  an  offence  and  foolishness  to  those  who  declare  that  He  was  a  mere  man  • .  598 
Chapter  XIII.  —  He  replies  to  the  objection  in  which  they  say  that  the  child  born  ought  to  be  of   one 

substance  with  the  mother 598 

Chapter  XIV.  —  He  compares  this  erroneous  view  with  the  teaching  of  the  Pelagians 598 

Chapter  XV.  —  He  shows  that  those  who  patronize  this  false  teaching  acknowledge  two  Christs. 599 

Chapter  XVI.  —  He  shows  further  that  this  teaching  is  destructive  of  the  confession  of  the  Trinity 599 

Chapter  XVII.  — Those  who  are  under  an  error  in  one  point  of  the  Catholic  religion  lose  the  whole  faith, 

and  all  the  value  of  the  faith 600 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  He  directs  his  discourse  upon  his  antagonist  with  whom  he  is  disputing,  and  begs  him  to 

return  to  his  senses.     The  sacrament  of  reconciliation  is  necessary  for  the  lapsed  for  their  salvation 600 

Chapter  XIX.  ■ — -That  the  birth  of  Christ  in  time  diminished  nothing  of  the  glory  and  power  of  His  Deity-  - .  600 
Chapter  XX.  ■ — ■  He  shows  from  what  has  been  said  that  we  do  not  mean  that  God  was  mortal  or  of  flesh 

before  the  worlds,  although  Christ,  who  is  God  from  eternity  and  was  made  man  in  time,  is   but  one 

person 60 1 

Chapter  XXI.  —  The  authority  of  Holy  Scripture  teaches  that  Christ  existed  from  all  eternity 601 

Chapter  XXII.  — The  hypostatic  union  enables  us  to  ascribe  to  God  what  belongs  to  the  flesh  in  Christ- ■  ••  602 
Chapter  XXIII.  —  That  the  figure  synecdoche,  in  which  the  part  stands  for  the  whole,  is  very  familiar  to  the 

Holy  Scripture 602 

Book   VII. 

Chapter  I.  — As  he  is  going  to  reply  to  the  slanders  of  his  opponents,  he  implores  the  aid  of  Divine  Grace  to 

teach  a  prayer  to  be  used  by  those  who  undertake  to  dispute  with  heretics 603 

Chapter  II.  —  He  meets  the  objection  taken  from  these  words:  No  one  gave  birth  to  one  who  had  existed 

before  her 604 

Chapter  III.  —  He  replies  to  the  cavil  that  the  one  who  is  born  must  be  of  one  substance  with  the  one  who 

bears. 605 

Chapter  IV.  — ■  How  God  has  shown  His  omnipotence  in  His  birth  in  time  as  well  as  in  everything  else. . . .  606 
Chapter  V.  — -  He  shows  by  proofs  drawn  from  nature  itself,  that  the  law  which  his  opponents  lay  down, 

viz.,  that  the   one   born  ought  to  be   of   one  substance  with  the  one  who  bears,  fails  to   hold   good  in 

many  cases 606 

Chapter  VI.  —  He  refutes  another  argument  of  Nestorius,  in  which  he  tried  to  make  out  that  Christ  was  like 

Adam  in  every  point • 607 

Chapter  VII.  —  Heretics  usually  cover  their  doctrines  with  a  cloak  of  Holy  Scripture 608 

Chapter  VIII.  — The  heretics  attribute  to  Christ  only  the  shadow  of  Divinity,  and  so  assert  that  He  is  to  be 

worshipped  together  with  God  but  not  as  God. 608 

Chapter  IX.  —  How  those   are   wrong  who  say  that  the   birth  of  Christ  was  a  secret,  since  it  was  clearly 

shown  even  to  the  patriarch  Jacob 609 

Chapter  X.  —  He  collects  more  witnesses  of  the  same  fact 610 

Chapter  XI.  —  How  the  devil  was  forced  by  many  reasons  to  the  view  that  Christ  was  God 610 

Chapter  XII.  —  He  compares  this  notion   and  reasonable  suspicion  of    the    devil  with  the   obstinate  and 

inflexible  idea   of    his  opponents,   and  shows  that  this  last  is  worse   and  more   blasphemous   than    the 

former 610 

Chapter  XIII.  —  How  the   devil  always   retained  this  notion   of   Christ's  Divinity  (because   of  His  secret 

working  which  he  experienced)  even  up  to  His  cross  and  death 610 


182  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Chapter  XIV. — He  shows  how  heretics  pervert  Holy  Scripture,  by  replying  to  the  argument  drawn  from 

the  Apostle's  words  "  without  father,  without  mother,  etc."  —  Heb.  viii 61 1 

Chapter  XV.  —  How  Christ  could  be  said  by  the  Apostle  to  be  without  genealogy 612 

Chapter  XVI.  —  He  shows  that  like  the  devil  when  tempting  Christ,  the  heretics  garble  and  pervert  Holy 

Scripture 612 

Chapter  XVII.  —That  the  glory  and  honour  of  Christ  is  not  to  be  ascribed  to  the  Holy  Ghost  in  such  a  way 

as  to   deny   that   it   proceeds  from   Christ  Himself,    as  if  all  that  excellency,  which  was  in  Him,  was 

another's  and  proceeded  from  another  source 613 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  How  we  are  to  understand  the  Apostle's  words  "  He  appeared  in  the  flesh,  was  justified 

in  the  spirit,  etc." 614 

Chapter  XIX.  — That  it  was  not  only  the  Spirit,  but  Christ  Himself  also,  who  made  Him  to  be  feared 614 

Chapter  XX.  —  He  tries  by  stronger  and  weightier  arguments  to  destroy  that  notion 615 

Chapter   XXI. — That   it   must   be   ascribed  equally  to   Christ   and   the  Holy  Ghost   that    His   flesh    and 

humanity  became  the  temple  of  God '. 615 

Chapter  XXII.  —  That  the'raising  up  of  Christ  into  heaven  is  not  to  be  ascribed  to  the  Spirit  alone 616 

Chapter  XXIII.  — He  continues  the  same  argument  to  show  that  Christ  had  no  need  of  another's  glory  as 

He  had  glory  of  His  own 616 

Chapter  XXIV.  ■ —  He  supports  this  doctrine  by  the  authority  of  the  blessed  Hilary 617 

Chapter  XXV.  — He  shows. that  Ambrose  agrees  with  S.  Hilary 617 

Chapter  XXVI.  —  He  adds  to  the  foregoing  the  testimony  of  S.  Jerome 618 

Chapter  XXVII.  — To  the  foregoing  he  adds  Rufinus  and  the  blessed  Augustine 618 

Chapter  XXVIII. — As  he  is  going  to  produce   the  testimony  of    Greek  or   Eastern   Bishops,  he   brings 

forward  in  the  first  place  S.  Gregory  Nazianzen 619 

Chapter  XXIX.  —  In  the  next  place  he  puts  the  authority  of  S.  Athanasius 619 

Chapter  XXX.  —  He  adds  also  S.  John  Chrysostom 619 

Chapter  XXXI.  —  He  bemoans  the  unhappy  lot  of   Constantinople  owing  to   the  misfortune  which  has 

overtaken  it  from  that  heretic;   and  at  the  same  time  he  urges  the  citizens  to  stand  fast  in  the  ancient 

Catholic  and  ancestral  faith 620 


PROLEGOMENA. 


CHAPTER    I. 

The  Life  of  Cassian. 


"  Cassianus  natione  Scytha  "  is  the  description  given  by  Gennadius *  of  the  writer  whose 
works  are  now  for  the  first  time  translated  into  English.  In  spite,  however,  of  the  precision  of 
this  statement,  considerable  doubt  hangs  over  Cassian's  nationality,  and  it  is  hard  to  believe 
that  he  was  in  reality  a  Scythian.  Not  only  is  his  language  and  style  free  from  all  trace  of 
barbarism,  but  as  a  boy  he  certainly  received  a  liberal  education;  for  in  his  Conferences  he 
laments  that  the  exertions  of  his  tutor  and  his  own  attention  to  continual  study  had  so  weak- 
ened him  that  his  mind  was  so  filled  with  songs  of  the  poets  that  even  at  the  hour  of 
prayer  it  was  thinking  of  those  trifling  fables  and  stories  of  battles  with  which  it  had  from 
earliest  infancy  been  stored;  "and,"  he  adds,  "when  singing  Psalms  or  asking  forgiveness 
of  sins,  some  wanton  recollection  of  the  poems  intrudes  itself  or  the  image  of  heroes  fighting 
presents  itself  before  the  eyes;  and  an  imagination  of  such  phantoms  is  always  haunting 
me."2  Further  evidence  of  the  character  of  his  education  is  also  supplied  by  the  fact 
that  in  his  work  on  the  Incarnation  against  Nestorius  he  manifests  an  acquaintance  not  only 
with  the  works  of  earlier  Christian  Fathers,  but  also  with  those  of  such  writers  as  Cicero 
and  Persius.3 

These  considerations  are  sufficient  to  make  us  hesitate  before  accepting  the  statement  of 
Gennadius  in  what  would  at  first  sight  be  its  natural  meaning;  although  from  the  fact  of  his 
connection  with  Marseilles,  where  so  much  of  Cassian's  life  was  spent,  as  well  as  the  early 
date  at  which  he  wrote  (a.  d.  495),  it  is  dangerous  to  reject  his  authority  altogether.  It 
is,  however,  possible  that  the  term  "  Scytha  "  is  not  really  intended  to  denote  a  Scythian, 
but  to  refer  to  the  desert  of  Scete,  or  Scitis,4  injCgypt,  where  Cassian  passed  many  years  of 
his  life,  and  with  which  his  fame  was  closely  associated;  and,  therefore,  without  going  to  the 
length  of  rejecting  the  authority  of  Gennadius  altogether,  we  are  free  to  look  for  some  other 
country  as  the  birthplace  of  our  author.  But  little  light  is  thrown  on  this  subject  by  the 
statements  of  other  writers.  Photius 5  (a.d.  800)  calls  him  'Pwuulog,  which  need  mean  no 
more  than  born  within  the  Roman  Empire;  while  Ffonorius  of  Autun  (a.d.  1130)  speaks 
of  him  as  Afer.  The  last-mentioned  writer  is,  however,  of  too  late  a  date  to  be  of  any  author- 
ity; and  it  is  just  possible  that  the  term  "Afer,"  like  the  "Scytha"  of  Gennadius,  may  be 
owing  to  his  lengthy  residence  in  Egypt.  6  In  the  writings  of  Cassian  himself  there  is  nothing 
to  enable  us  to  identify  the  country  of  his  birth  with  certainty;  but,  in  describing  the 
situation  of  his  ancestral  home,  he  speaks  of  the  delightful  pleasantness  of  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  the  recesses  of  the  woods,  which  would  not  only  delight  the  heart  of  a  monk 
but  would  also  furnish  him  with  a  plentiful  supply  of  food;7  while  in  a  later  passage  he 
says  that  in  his  own  country  it  was  impossible  to  find  any  one  who  had  adopted  the  monastic 
life.8     From  these  notices,  compared  with  a  passage  in  the  Preface  to  the  Institutes,  where 

1  Gennadius  Catalogus,  c.  lxii. 

2  Conference  XIV.  xii. 

3  On  the  Incarnation,  VI.  ix.,  x. 

4  2kiix0is,  and  S/ciafliKr;  (v.  1.  2ki#kik7))  x^Pa  are  tne  forms  of  the  name  given  by  Ptolemy.  The  Greek  Fathers  speak  of  the  dis- 
trict as  2/c>)Ti9,  while  in  Latin  writers  the  name  appears  as  Sc.ythia,  or  Scythis ;  and,  though  the  printed  texts  of  Cassian  give  the  form  as 
Scitium,  heremus  Scitii,  and  heremus  Scitiotica,  yet  we  learn  from  Petschenig  that  in  the  MSS.  of  his  works  it  is  not  seldom  written  as 
Scythium.  It  should  be  added  that  in  the  text  of  Gennadius  the  reading  is  not  absolutely  free  from  doubt,  as  there  is  some  slight  authority 
for  reading  "  natus  Serta." 

5  Bibliotheca,  cod.  cxcvii. 

6  Dr.  Gregory  Smith  {Dictionary  of  Christian  Biography,  art.  Cassian)  thinks  that  'Cassianus'  possibly  points  to  Casius,  a  small 
town  in  Syria;  but,  apart  from  the  fact  that  the  name  was  not  uncommon  in  the  West  as  well  as  in  the  East,  the  description  of  his  home 
as  being  in  a  country  where  there  were  no  monasteries  is  quite  fatal  to  this  idea. 

7  Conference  XXIV.  i. 

8  c.  xviii. 

i33 


1 84 


PROLEGOMENA. 


the  diocese  of  Apta  Julia  in  Gallia  Narbonensis  is  spoken  of  as  still  without  monasteries, 
some  ground  is  given  for  the  conjecture  that  Cassian  was  really  a  native  of  Gaul,  whither 
he  returned  in  mature  age  after  his  wanderings  were  ended,  and  where  most  of  his  friends  of 
whom  we  have  any  knowledge  were  settled.  On  the  whole,  then,  it  appears  to  the  present 
writer  to  be  the  most  probable  view  that  Cassian  was  of  Western  origin,  and,  perhaps,  a 
native  of  Provence,  although  it  must  be  freely  acknowledged  that  it  is  impossible  to  speak 
with  certainty  on  this  subject.1 

Once  more:  not  only  is  there  this  doubt  about  his  nationality,  but  questions  have  also 
been  raised  concerning  his  original  name.  Gennadius  and  Cassiodorus 2  speak  of  him 
simply  as  Cassianus.  In  his  own  writings  he  represents  himself  as  addressed  by  the  monks 
in  Egypt  more  than  once  by  the  name  of  John.3  Prosper  of  Aquitaine  (his  contemporary 
and  antagonist)  combines  both  names,  and  speaks  of  him  as  "Joannes  cognomento  Cas- 
sianus."4 In  the  titles  of  the  majority  of  the  MSS.  of  his  own  writing  he  is  merely 
"Cassianus,"  though  in  one  case  the  work  is  entitled  "Beatissimi  Joannis  qui  et  Cassiani."5 
Are  we,  then,  with  the  writer  of  the  last-mentioned  MS.,  to  suppose  that  the  names  John  and 
Cassian  are  alternatives;  or,  with  Prosper,  that  John  was  his  nomen  and  Cassianus  his 
cognomen,  or,  more  strictly,  agnomen?  The  former  view  is,  perhaps,  the  more  probable,  as 
he  may  well  have  taken  the  name  of  John  at  his  baptism  or  at  his  admission  to  the  mon- 
astic life.  The  theory  which  has  sometimes  been  advocated  —  that  he  received  it  at  his 
ordination  by  S.  John  Chrysostom — falls  to  the  ground  when  we  notice  that  he  represents  him- 
self as  called  John  during  his  residence  in  Egypt,  several  years  before  his  ordination  and 
intercourse  with  S.  Chrysostom. 

To  pass  now  from  the  question  of  his  name  and  nationality  to  the  narrative  of  Cassian's 
life.  Various  considerations  point  to  the  date  of  his  birth  as  about  the  year  360.  Of  his 
family  we  know  nothing,  except  that  in  one  passage  of  his  writings  he  incidentally  makes 
mention  of  a  sister; 6  while  the  language  which  he  uses  of  his  parents  would  imply  that  they 
were  well-to-do  and  pious.7  As  we  have  already  seen,  he  received  a  liberal  education 
as  a  boy,  but  while  still  young  forsook  the  world,  and  was  received,  together  with  his 
friend  Germanus,  into  a  monastery  at  Bethlehem,8  where  he  spent  several  years  and  became 
thoroughly  familiar  with  the  customs  and  traditions  of  the  monasteries  of  Syria.  Eager, 
however,  to  make  further  progress  in  the  perfect  life,  the  two  friends  finally  determined  to 
visit  Egypt,9  where,  as  it  was  the  country  in  which  the  monastic  life  originated,  the  most 
famous  monasteries  existed,  and  the  most  illustrious  Anchorites  were  to  be  found.  Per- 
mission to  undertake  the  journey  was  sought  and  obtained  from  their  superiors,  a  pledge 
being  required  of  a  speedy  return  when  the  object  of  their  visit  was  gained.10  Sailing  from 
some  port  of  Syria,  perhaps  Joppa,  the  friends  arrived  at  Thennesus,  a  town  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Tanitic  branch  of  the  Nile,  near  Lake  Menzaleh.  Here  they  fell  in  with  a  celebrated 
Anchorite  named  Archebius,  bishop  of  the  neighbouring  town  of  Panephysis,  who  had  come 
to  Thennesus  on  business  connected  with  the  election  of  a  bishop.  He,  on  hearing  the  object 
of  their  visit  to  Egypt,  at  once  offered  them  an  introduction  to  some  celebrated  Anchorites 
in  his  own  neighbourhood.  The  offer  was  gladly  accepted,  and  under  his  guidance  they 
made  their  way  through  a  dreary  district  of  salt  marshes,  many  of  the  villages  being  in  ruins 
and  deserted  by  their  inhabitants  owing  to  the  floods  which  had  inundated  the  country  and 
turned  the  rising  grounds  into  islands,  "  and  thus  afforded  the  desired  solitudes  to  the  holy  An- 
chorites, among  whom  three  old  men —  Chaeremon,  Nesteros,  and  Joseph —  were  famed  as  the 
Anchorites  of  the  longest  standing."11  Archebius  brought  them  first  to  Chaeremon,  who  had 
already  passed  his  hundredth  year,  and  was  so  far  bent  with  age  and  constant  prayer  that  he 
could  no  longer  walk  upright,  but  crawled  upon  his  hands  and  knees.  The  saint's  hesita- 
tion at  allowing  himself  to  be  thus  interviewed  by  strangers  was  soon  overcome,  and  he  finally 

1  No  difficulty  need  be  felt  on  the  score  of  his  thorough  knowledge  of  Greek,  for  this  could  easily  be  accounted  for  by  his  education  at 
Bethlehem,  and  prolonged  residence  in  the  East. 

2  De  Div.  Lect.  Pref.,  and  c.  xxix. 

3  Conference  XIV.  ix.;   Institute  V.  xxxv. 

4  Chronicle. 

5  Parisinus.     Nouv.  acquis.  Lat.  260,  of  the  eighth  or  ninth  century. 

6  Institutes  XI.  xviii. 

7  Conference  XXIV.  i. 

8  See  the  Institutes  III.  iv. ;  IV.  xix.-xxi.,  xxxi.  Conferences  I.  i. ;  XI.  i.  v.  ;  XIX.  i.  ;  XX.  i.  The  date  is  too  early  for  this  to  have 
been  S.  Jerome's  famous  monastery,  as  that  father  only  settled  at  Bethlehem  towards  the  close  of  3S6,  by  which  time  Cassian  himself 
must  have  been  already  in  Egypt ;  nor  does  he  anywhere  in  his  writings  make  any  allusion  to  Jerome  as  his  teacher,  although  he  mentions 
him  with  great  respect  in  his  work  on  the  Incarnation,  Book  VII.  c.  xxvi. 

9  Conference  XI.  i.     A  good  account  of  Cassian's  visits  to  Egypt  is  given  in  Fleury's  Ecclesiastical  History,  Book  XX.,  c.  iii.-vii. 

10  Conference  XVII.  ii. 

11  Conference  XI.  i.-iii.,  and  compare  VII.  xxvi.  for  another  description  of  the  same  district. 


PROLEGOMENA. 


gratified  their  curiosity  by  delivering  three  discourses,  on  the  subjects  of  Perfection,  Chas- 
tity, and  the  Protection  of  God.1  From  the  cell  of  Chaeremon  Cassian  and  his  companion 
proceeded  to  that  of  Abbot  Nesteros,  who  honoured  them  with  two  discourses,  on  Spiritual 
Knowledge,  and  Divine  Gifts;2  and  from  him  they  repaired  to  Joseph,  who  belonged  to  a 
noble  family,  and  before  his  renunciation  of  the  world  had  been  "primarius"  of  his  native 
city,  Thmuis.  He  was  naturally  better  educated  than  the  others,  and  was  able  to  converse  with 
them  in  Greek  instead  of  being  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  the  help  of  an  interpreter,  as  had 
been  the  case  with  Chaeremon  and  Nesteros.3  His  first  question  referred  to  the  relationship 
between  Cassian  and  Germanus:  were  they  brothers  ?  And  their  reply  —  that  the  brotherhood 
was  spiritual  and  not  carnal  —  furnished  the  old  man  with  a  text  for  his  first  discourse,  which 
was  on  Friendship,  and  which  was  followed  up  on  the  next  day  by  one  on  the  Obligation  of 
Promises,4  called  forth  by  the  perplexity  in  which  the  travellers  found  themselves  owing  to 
their  promise  to  return  to  Bethlehem,  — a  promise  which  they  were  loth  to  break,  and  which 
yet  they  could  not  fulfil  without  losing  a  grand  opportunity  of  making  progress  in  the  spirit- 
ual life.  In  their  difficulty  they  consulted  Joseph;  and,  fortified  by  his  authority  and  advice, 
they  determined  to  break  the  letter  of  their  promise  and  make  a  longer  stay  in  Egypt,  where 
they  accordingly  remained  for  seven  years  in  spite  of  their  brethren  at  Bethlehem,  whose 
displeasure  at  their  conduct,  Cassian  tells  us,  was  not  removed  by  their  frequent  letters 
home.5 

It  was  while  Cassian  and  his  fellow-traveller  were  still  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Panephysis 
that  these  energetic  precursors  of  the  modern  "interviewers''  paid  a  visit  to  Abbot  Pinufius, 
a  priest  who  presided  over  a  large  monastery.  This  man  was  an  old  friend  of  theirs,  whose 
acquaintance  they  had  previously  made  at  Bethlehem,  whither  (after  an  ineffectual  attempt 
to  conceal  himself  in  a  monastery  in  the  island  of  Tabenna)  he  had  fled  in  order  to  escape 
the  responsibilities  of  his  office.  There  he  had  been  received  as  a  novice,  and  had  been 
assigned  by  the  abbot  as  an  inmate  of  Cassian's  cell,  until  he  was  recognized  by  a  visitor 
from  Egypt  and  brought  back  in  triumph  to  his  own  monastery.6  To  him,  therefore,  Cassian 
and  Germanus  made  their  way;  and  by  him  they  were  warmly  welcomed;  the  old  man  repay- 
ing their  former  hospitality  by  giving  them  quarters  in  his  own  cell.  While  staying  in  this 
monastery  they  were  so  fortunate  as  to  be  present  at  the  admission  of  a  novice,  and  heard  the 
charge  which  Pinufius  made  to  the  new-comer  on  the  occasion;7  and  afterwards  the  abbot 
favoured  them  with  a  discourse  '"on  the  end  of  penitence  and  the  marks  of  satisfaction."  8 
After  this,  resisting  his  pressing  invitation  to  remain  with  him  in  the  monastery,  they  pro- 
ceeded once  more  on  their  travels,  and,  crossing  the  river,  came  to  Diolcos,  a  town 
hard  by  the  Sebennytic  mouth  of  the  Nile.  Here  was  a  barren  tract  of  land  between  the 
river  and  the  sea,  rendered  unfit  for  cultivation  by  the  saltness  of  the  soil  and  the  dryness  of 
the  sand.  It  was,  therefore,  eagerly  seized  upon  by  the  monks,  who  congregated  here  in  great 
numbers  in  spite  of  the  absence  of  water;  the  river  from  which  it  had  to  be  fetched  being 
some  three  miles  distant.9  In  this  neighbourhood  they  made  the  acquaintance  of  Abbot 
Piamun,  a  most  celebrated  Anchorite,  who  explained  to  them  with  great  care  the  character- 
istics of  the  three  kinds  of  monks;  viz.,  the  Coenobites,  the  Anchorites,  and  the  Sarabaites.10 
This  discourse  had  the  effect  of  exciting  their  desire  more  keenly  than  ever  for  the  Anchor- 
ites' life  in  preference  to  that  of  the  Coenobite,  —  a  desire  which  was  afterwards  confirmed  by 
what  they  saw  and  heard  in  the  desert  of  Scete.  They  next  visited  a  large  monastery  in  the 
same  neighbourhood,  which  was  governed  by  the  Abbot  Paul,  and  which  ordinarily  accom- 
modated two  hundred  monks,  but  was  at  that  moment  filled  with  a  much  larger  number,  who 
had  come  from  the  surrounding  monasteries  to  celebrate  the  "depositio"  of  the  late  abbot.11 
Here  they  met  a  certain  Abbot  John,  whose  humility  had  led  him  to  give  up  the  life  of  an 
Anchorite  for  that  of  a  Coenobite,  in  order  that  he  might  have  the  opportunity  of  practising 
the  virtues  of  obedience  and  subjection,  which  seemed  out  of  the  reach  of  the  solitary.  He 
was  accordingly  well  qualified  to  speak  of  the  subject  which  he  selected  for  his  discourse: 
viz.,  the  aims  of  the  Anchorite  and  Coenobite  life.12  Another  well-known  abbot,  whose 
acquaintance  they  now  made,  was  Theonas,  who,  when  quite  a  young  man,  had  been  married 
by  his  parents,  and  later  on,  on  failing  to  obtain  the  consent  of   his  wife  to  a  separation,  in 

1  Conferences  XI.,  XII.,  XIII.  1  Institute  V.  xxxii.-xlii. 

2  Conferences  XIV.,  XV.  «  Conference  XX. 

3  Conference  XVI.  i.  9  institute  V.  xxxvi. 

*  Conferences  XVI.,  XVII.  w  Conference  XVIII.     On  the  Sarabaites,  see  the  note  on  c.  vii. 

B  See  Conference  XVII.  i.-v.  and  xxx.  «  Conference  XIX.  i. 

0  Conference  XX.  i.,  ii.     The  story  is  also  told  in  the  Institutes,  «   Conference  XIX.  i. 
IV.  xxx. 


186  PROLEGOMENA. 


order  that  they  might  devote  themselves  to  the  monastic  life,  had  deserted  her  and  fled  away 
into  a  monastery,  where  after  a  time  he  had  been  promoted  to  the  office  of  almoner.  From 
him  they  heard  a  discourse  on  the  relaxation  of  the  fast  during  Easter-tide  and  Pentecost,1 
and,  later  on,  one  concerning  Nocturnal  Illusions,2  and  another  on  Sinlessness.3  By  these 
various  discourses  the  two  friends  were  rendered  more  desirous  than  ever  of  adopting  the 
Anchorite. life,  and  less  inclined  than  before  to  return  to  the  subjection  of  the  monastery  at 
Bethlehem.  A  far  better  course  seemed  to  them  to  return  to  their  own  home,  probably  (as 
we  have  seen)  in  Gaul,  where  they  would  be  free  to  practice  what  austerities  they  pleased 
without  let  or  hindrance.4  In  their  perplexity  they  consulted  Abbot  Abraham,  who  threw 
cold  water  on  their  plan  in  a  discourse  on  Mortification,5  which  was  entirely  successful  in 
persuading  them  to  relinquish  their  half-formed  intention.  They,  therefore,  remained  in 
Egypt  for  some  years  longer;  and  it  is  to  the  time  of  their  stay  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Diolcos  that  their  acquaintance  with  Abbot  Archebius  must  be  assigned.  This  man,  so  Cas-1 
sian  tells  us,6  having  discovered  their  desire  to  make  some  stay  in  the  place,  offered  them 
the  use  of  his  cell,  pretending  that  he  was  about  to  go  off  on  a  journey.  They  gladly  accepted 
his  offer.  He  went  away  for  a  few  days,  collected  materials,  and  then  returned  and  proceeded 
to  build  a  new  cell  for  himself.  Shortly  afterwards  some  more  brethren  came.  He  at  once 
gave  up  to  them  his  newly  built  cell,  and  once  more  set  to  work  to  build  another  for  himself. 
It  is  difficult  to  determine  whether  a  stay  in  the  desert  of  Scete  was  comprised  in 
the  seven  years  which  the  two  friends  now  spent  in  Egypt,  or  whether  they  visited  it  for  the 
first  time  during  their  second  tour,  after  their  return  from  Bethlehem.  On  the  one  hand,  the 
language  used  in  Conference  XVIII.  cc.  i.  and  xvi.  would  almost  suggest  that  they  made 
their  way  into  this  remote  district  during  their  first  sojourn  in  Egypt;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  employed  in  Conference  I.  c.  i.  might  imply  a  distinct  journey  to  Egypt  for  the  sake 
of  visiting  this  region:  and  in  XVII.  xxx.  Cassian  distinctly  asserts  that  they  did  visit  Scete 
after  their  return  to  Bethlehem  in  fulfilment  of  their  promise.  On  the  whole,  it  appears  the 
more  natural  view  to  suppose  that  their  first  tour  was  not  extended  beyond  the  Delta,  more 
distant  expeditions  being  reserved  for  a  future  occasion.  Adopting,  then,  this  view,  we  follow 
the  travellers,  after  a  seven  years'  absence,  back  to  the  monastery  at  Bethlehem,  where  they 
managed  to  pacify  the  irate  brethren,  and,  strange  to  say,  obtained  leave  to  return  to  Egypt 
a  second  time.7  On  this  occasion  they  penetrated  farther  into  the  country  than  they  had 
previously  done.  The  region  which  they  now  visited  was  the  desert  of  Scete,  or  Scitis ;  that 
is,  the  southern  part  of  the  famous  Nitrian  Valley,  a  name  which  is  well  known  to  all 
students  from  the  rich  treasure  of  Syrian  MSS.  brought  home  from  thence  by  the  Hon. 
Robert  Curzon  and  Archdeacon  Tattam  now  more  than  forty  years  ago.  The  district  lies 
"to  the  northwest  of  Cairo,  three  days'  journey  in  the  Libyan  desert,"  8  and  gains  its  name 
of  Nitria  from  the  salt  lakes  which  still  furnish  abundance  of  nitre,  which  has  been  worked 
for  fully  two  thousand  years.  The  valley  has  some  claims  to  be  considered  the  original 
home  of  monasticism.  Some  have  thought  that  a  colony  of  Therapeutae  was  settled  here 
in  the  earliest  days;  and  hither  S.  Frontonius  is  said  to  have  retired  with  seventy  brethren,  to 
lead  the  life  of  ascetics,  about  the  middle  of  the  second  century.9  Less  doubtful  is  the  fact 
that  S.  Ammon,  a  contemporary  and  friend  of  S.  Antony,  organized  the  monastic  system  here 
in  the  fourth  century,  and  "filled  the  same  place  in  lower  Egypt  as  Antony  in  the  The- 
baid. "  10  Towards  the  close  of  the  fourth  century  the  valley  was  crowded  with  cells  and 
monasteries.  Rufinus,  who  visited  it  about  372,  mentions  fifty  monasteries;11  and  the 
same  number  is  given  by  Sozomen,  who  says  that  "some  were  inhabited  by  monks  who  live 
together  in  society,  others  by  monks  who  have  adopted  a  solitary  mode  of  existence."  12  About 
twenty  years  later  Palladius  passed  a  considerable  time  here,  and  reckons  the  total  number 
of  monks  and  ascetics  at  five  thousand.13  They  were  also  visited  by  S.  Jerome  about 
the  same  time,  and  various  details  of  the  life  of  the  monks  are  given  by  him  in  his  Epistles.14 
Some  few  monks  still  linger  on  to  the  present  day  to  keep  up  the  traditions  of  nearly  eighteen 
centuries.  They  were  visited  (among  others)  by  the  Hon.  Robert  Curzon  in  1833;  and  an 
interesting  account  of  them  is  given  by  him  in  his  volume  on  "the  monasteries  of  the 
Levant:  "  1&  but  the  latest  and  best  account  of  them   is  that  given  by  Mr.  A.  J.  Butler,  who 

I  Conference  XXT.  -  Conference  XXII.  3  Conference  XXIII. 

4  Conference  XXIV.  i.  s  Conference  XXIV.  6  Institute  V.  xxxvi.  so. 

7  Conference  XVII.  xxx.  8  Butler's  Coptic  Churches,  Vol.  I.,  p.  287. 

9  Rosweyd,   Vitae  Patrum;  and  the  Bollandist  Acta  Sanctorum,  14  April,  Vol.  II.,  201-3. 

10  Dictionary  of  Christian  Biography ,  art.  Ammon  ;  cf.  Rufinus,  Hist. :  Monach,  xxx.;  and  Palladius,  Hist.  :  Lausiaca,  viii. 

II  Hist.,  Monach,  c.  xxi.  12  Sozomen,  H.  E.  VI.  xxxi.  ^  Hist.,  Laus.,  c.  vii. 
14  Epp. :  ad  Eustochium,  ad  Rustic.                         15  Part  I.,  cc.  vii.,  viii. 


PROLEGOMENA.  187 


succeeded  in  gaining  permission  to  visit  them  in  1883,  and  has  described  his  journey  in 
his  excellent  work  on  " the  ancient  Coptic  Churches  of  Egypt."1  Four  monasteries  alone 
remain,  known  as  Dair  Abu  Makar,  Dair  Anba  Bishoi,  Dair  es  Suriani,  and  Dair  al 
Baramus;  but  the  ruins  of  many  others  may  still  be  traced  in  the  desert  tracts  on  the  west 
side  of  the  Natron  lakes,  and  the  valley  of  the  waterless  river  which  at  some  very  remote 
period  is  supposed  to  have  formed  the  bed  of  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Nile."  2  The  mon- 
asteries are  all  built  on  the  same  general  plan,  so  that,  as  Mr.  Butler  tells  us,  a  description 
of  one  will  more  or  less  accurately  describe  the  others.  Dair  Abu  Makar  (the  monastery 
of  S.  Macarius),  the  first  which  he  visited,  which  lies  strictly  within  the  desert  of  Scete, 
is  spoken  of  as  "  a  veritable  fortress,  standing  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  square,  with 
blind,  lofty  walls  rising  sheer  out  of  the  sand."  "  Each  monastery  has  also,  either  detached  or 
not,  a  large  keep,  or  tower,  standing  four-square,  and  approached  only  by  a  draw-bridge. 
The  tower  contains  the  library,  store-rooms  for  the  vestments  and  sacred  vessels,  cellars 
for  oil  and  corn,  and  many  strange  holes  and  hiding-places  of  the  monks  in  the  last  resort, 
if  their  citadel  should  be  taken  by  the  enemy.  Within  the  monastery  in  enclosed  one 
principal  and  one  or  two  smaller  court -yards,  around  which  stand  the  cells  of  the  monks, 
domestic  buildings,  such  as  the  mill-room,  the  oven,  the  refectory,  and  the  like,  and  the 
churches."3  The  outward  aspect  can  have  changed  but  little  since  the  fourth  century. 
The  buildings  are  perhaps  stronger  and  more  adapted  to  resist  hostile  attacks,  but  the 
general  plan  is  probably  identical  with  that  adopted  in  the  earliest  monasteries  erected  in 
this  remote  region.  Such,  then,  was  the  district  to  which  Cassian  and  Germanus  now  made 
their  way.  Here  they  first  sought  and  obtained  an  interview  with  Abbot  Moses,  who  had 
formerly  dwelt  in  the  Thebaid  near  S.  Antony,  and  was  now  living  at  a  spot  in  the  desert 
of  Scete  known  as  Calamus,4  and  was  famous  not  only  for  practical  goodness  but  also  for 
contemplative  excellence.  After  much  persuasion  he  yielded  to  their  entreaties  and  dis- 
coursed to  them  "on  the  goal  or  aim  of  a  monk,"5  and,  on  the  following  day,  on  Discre- 
tion.6 They  next  visited  Abbot  Paphnutius,  or  "the  Buffalo,"  as  he  was  named,  from  his 
love  of  solitude.  He  was  an  aged  priest  who  had  lived  for  years  the  life  of  an  Anchorite, 
only  leaving  his  cell  for  the  purpose  of  going  to  the  church,  which  was  five  miles  off,  on 
Saturday  and  Sunday,  and  returning  with  a  large  bucket  of  water  on  his  shoulders  to  last  him 
for  the  week.  From  him  they  heard  of  the  "  three  kinds  of  renunciation  "  necessary  for  a 
monk.7  They  also  visited  his  disciple  Daniel,  who  had  been  ordained  priest  through  the 
instrumentality  of  Paphnutius,  but  was  so  humble  that  he  would  never  perform  priestly 
functions  in  the  presence  of  his  master.  The  subject  of  his  discourse  in  answer  to  the  inquiry 
of  the  two  friends  was  "the  lust  of  the  flesh  and  the  spirit."  8  The  next  ascetic  interviewed 
was  Serapion,  who  spoke  of  the  "eight  principal  faults"  to  which  a  monk  was  exposed; 
viz.,  gluttony,  fornication,  covetousness,  anger,  dejection,  "accidie,"  vainglory,  and  pride.9 
After  this  they  proceeded  on  a  journey  of  some  eighty  miles  to  Cellae,  a  place  that  lay 
between  the  desert  of  Scete  (properly  so  called)  and  the  Nitrian  Valley,  in  order  to  consult 
Abbot  Theodore  on  a  difficulty  which  the  recent  massacre  of  a  number  of  monks  in  Palestine 
by  the  Saracens  had  brought  forcibly  before  them ;  viz. ,  why  was  it  that  men  of  such  illustrious 
merits  and  so  great  virtues  should  be  slain  by  robbers,  and  why  should  God  permit  so  great 
a  crime  to  be  committed?  The  difficulty  was  solved  by  Abbot  Theodore  in  a  discourse  on 
"the  death  of  the  saints;  "  10  and  thus  the  journey  was  not  taken  in  vain.  Two  other  cele- 
brated monks  were  also  visited  by  the  friends,  whose  discourses  are  recorded  by  Cassian : 
viz.,  Abbot  Serenus,  who  spoke  of  "Inconstancy  of  mind,  and  Spiritual  wickedness,"11  as 
well  as  of  the  nature  of  evil  spirits,  in  a  Conference  on  "  Principalities ;  "  12  and  Abbot  Isaac, 
who  delivered  two  discourses  on  the  subject  of  Prayer.13  A  few  days  after  the  first  of  these 
was  delivered  there  arrived  in  the  desert  the  "festal  letters"  of  Theophilus,  Bishop  of 
Alexandria,  in  which  he  denounced  the  heresy  of  the  Anthropomorphites.  This  caused  a 
great  commotion  among  the  monks  of  Scete;  and  Abbot  Paphnutius,  who  presided  over  the 
monastery  where  Cassian  was  staying,  was  the  only  one  who  would  allow  the  letters  to  be 
publicly  read  in  the  congregation.  Finally,  however,  owing  to  the  conciliatory  firmness  of 
Paphnutius,  the  great  body  of  the  monks  was  won  over  to  a  sounder  and  less  materialistic 
view  of  the  nature  of  the  Godhead  than  had  hitherto  been  prevalent  among  them.14 

1  The  Ancient  Coptic  Churches  of  Egypt,  by  Alfred  J.  Butler.  2  vols.  (Oxford,  1884). 

2  Curzon,  p.  79.  1  Conference  III.  12  Conference  VIII. 

3  Butler,  Vol.  I.,  pp.  295,  6,  7.  8  Conference  IV.  ]3  Conference  IX.  x. 

4  Conference  II.  ii. ;   III.  v.  9  Conference  V.  "  See  Conference  X.  cc.  i-iii. 
8  Conference  I.                                                       10  Conference  VI. 

6  Conference  II.  u  Conference  VII. 


188  PROLEGOMENA. 


These  are  all  the  details  that  can  be  gathered  from  Cassian's  writings  of  his  stay  in 
Scete,  further  than  which  he  does  not  appear  to  have  penetrated,  as,  when  he  speaks  of  the 
Thebaid  and  the  monasteries  there,  it  is  only  from  hearsay  and  not  from  personal  knowledge, 
although  his  original  intention  had  certainly  been  to  visit  this  district  among  others.1 

In  considering  the  date  of  Cassian's  visit  to  Egypt  there  are  various  indications  to  guide 
us.  In  Conference  XVIII.  c.  xiv.,  S.  Athanasius  is  spoken  of  by  Abbot  Piamun  as  "of 
blessed  memory;  "  and  the  language  used  of  the  Emperor  Valens  in  c.  vii.  is  such  as  to 
imply  that  he  was  already  dead.  The  former  died  in  373,  and  the  latter  in  378.  Again,  in 
Conference  XXIV.  c.  xxvi.  Abbot  Abraham  is  made  to  speak  of  John  of  Lycopolis  as  so 
famous  that  he  was  consulted  by  the  very  lords  of  creation,  who  sought  his  advice,  and 
entrusted  to  his  prayers  and  merits  the  crown  of  their  empire  and  the  fortunes  of  war.  These 
expressions  evidently  allude  to  John's  announcement  to  Theodosius  of  his  victory  over 
Maxentius  in  388,  and  his  success  against  Eugenius  in  395. "  If  they  stood  alone,  we  could 
scarcely  rely  on  these  indications  of  date  with  any  great  confidence  because  the  Conferences 
were  not  written  till  many  years  later,  and  it  is  impossible  to  determine  with  certainty  how 
far  they  really  represent  the  discourses  actually  spoken  by  the  Egyptian  Fathers,  or  how 
far  they  are  the  ideal  compositions  of  Cassian  himself.  But,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is  certain 
that  Cassian  was  actually  in  Egypt  at  the  time  of  the  Anthropomorphite  controversy  raised 
by  the  letters  of  Theophilus  in  399 ;  and,  as  the  other  notices  of  events  previously  mentioned 
coincide  very  fairly  with  this,  we  cannot  be  far  wrong  in  placing  the  two  visits  to  Egypt 
between  380  and  400.  About  the  last-named  date  Cassian  must  have  finally  left  the  country; 
and  we  next  hear  of  him  in  Constantinople,  where  he  was  ordained  deacon  by  S.  Chrysostom,3 
and,  together  with  his  friend  Germanus,  put  in  charge  of  the  treasury,  the  only  part  of  the 
Cathedral  which  escaped  the  flames  in  the  terrible  conflagration  of  404.  Thus  Cassian  was 
a  witness  of  all  the  troublous  scenes  which  attended  the  persecution  of  S.  Chrysostom,  whose 
side  he  warmly  espoused  in  the  controversy  which  rent  the  East  asunder.  And  when  the 
Saint  was  violently  deposed  and  removed  from  Constantinople,  the  two  friends  —  Germanus, 
who  was  by  this  time  raised  to  the  priesthood,  and  Cassian,  who  was  still  in  deacon's  orders 
—  were  chosen  as  the  bearers  of  a  letter  to  Pope  Innocent  I.  from  the  clergy  who  adhered  to 
Chrysostom,  detailing  the  scandalous  scenes  that  had  taken  place,  and  the  trials  to  which 
they  had  been  exposed.4  Of  the  length  of  Cassian's  stay  in  Rome  we  have  no  information, 
but  it  is  likely  that  it  was  of  some  considerable  duration;  and  it  may  have  been  at  this  time 
that  he  was  ordained  priest  by  Innocent.  Possibly,  also,  it  was  now  that  he  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  one  who  was  then  quite  young,  but  was  destined  afterwards  to  become  famous  as 
Pope  Leo  the  Great;  for  some  years  afterwards  (a.d.  430)  it  was  at  the  request  of  Leo,  then 
Archdeacon  of  Rome,  that  Cassian  wrote  his  work  on  the  Incarnation  against  Nestorius. 
Leaving  Rome,  Cassian  is  next  found  in  Gaul,5  which  (if  we  are  right  in  the  supposition  that 
it  was  his  birthplace)  he  must  have  quitted  when  scarcely  more  than  a  child.  When  he  left 
it  monasticism  was  a  thing  almost  if  not  quite  unknown  there,  but  during  his  absence  in 
the  East  a  few  monasteries  had  been  founded  in  the  district  of  the  Loire  by  S.  Martin  and 
S.  Hilary  of  Poictiers.  Liguge'  was  founded  shortly  after  360,  and  Marmoutier  rather  later, 
after  371 ;  and  about  the  time  of  his  return  similar  institutions  were  beginning  to  spring  up 
in  Provence.  In  410  S.  Honoratus  founded  the  monastery  which  will  ever  be  associated 
with  his  name,  in  the  island  of  Lerins,  and,  in  the  eloquent  words  of  the  historian  of  the 
monks  of  the  West,  "opened  the  arms  of  his  love  to  the  sons  of  all  countries  who  desired  to 
love  Christ.  A  multitude  of  disciples  of  all  nations  joined  him.  The  West  could  no  longer 
envy  the  East;  and  shortly  that  retreat,  destined  in  the  intentions  of  its  founder  to  renew 
upon  the  coasts  of  Provence  the  austerities  of  the  Thebaid,  became  a  celebrated  school  of 
theology  and  Christian  philosophy,  a  citadel  inaccessible  to  the  waves  of  barbarian  inva- 
sion, an  asylum  for  literature  and  science,  which  had  fled  from  Italy  invaded  by  the  Goths;  — 
in  short,  a  nursery  of  bishops  and  saints,  who  were  destined  to  spread  over  the  whole  of  Gaul 
the  knowledge  of  the  gospel  and  the  glory  of  Le'rins."  6 

It  must  have  been  about  the  same  time — a  little  earlier  or  a  little  later — that  Cassian 
settled  at  Marseilles;  and  there,  "in  the  midst  of  those  great  forests  which  had  supplied  the 

1  See  Conference  XI.  i.  2  Compare  the  Institutes,  IV.  xxiii.  3  On  the  Incarnation,  VII.  xxxi. 

4  Palladius  Dial.  iii. ;  Sozomen,  H.  E.  VIII.  xxvi. 

5  It  is  highly  precarious  to  infer  from  the  language  used  in  the  Institutes,  III.  that  Cassian  visited  Mesopotamia  before  settling  in  Gaul. 
His  departure  from  Rome  may  perhaps  have  been  occasioned  by  the  Gcthic  invasion  of  Italy  and  Alaric's  sieges  of  Rome,  408-410. 

6  Montalembert's  Monks  of  tlie  West,  Vol.  I.  p.  464  (Eng.  Translation).  The  names  of  Hilary  of  ArleSj  Vincent  of  Lerins,  Salvian, 
Eucherius  of  Lyons,  Lupus  of  Troyes,  and  Cssarius  of  Aries,  are  alone  sufficient  to  render  the  monastery  of  Lerins  illustrious  in  the  annals 
of  the  Church  of  ,G-aul. 


PROLEGOMENA.  189 


Phoenician  navy,  which  in  the  time  of  Caesar  reached  as  far  as  the  sea-coast,  and  the  myste- 
rious obscurity  of  which  had  so  terrified  the  Roman  soldiers  that  the  conqueror,  to  embolden 
them,  had  himself  taken  an  axe  and  struck  down  an  old  oak,"1  two  monasteries  were  now 
established,  — one  for  men,  built  it  is  said  over  the  tomb  of  S.  Victor,  a  martyr  in  the  persecu- 
tion of  Diocletian,2  and  the  other  for  women.  Cassian's  long  residence  in  the  East  and  his 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  monastic  system  in  vogue  in  Egypt  made  him  at  once  looked  up 
to  as  an  authority,  and  practically  as  the  head  of  the  movement  which  was  so  rapidly  taking 
root  in  Provence;  and,  although  his  fame  has  been  overshadowed  by  that  of  the  greatest  of 
Western  monks,  S.  Benedict  of  Nursia,  yet  his  is  really  the  credit  of  being,  not  indeed  the 
actual  founder,  but  the  first  organizer  and  systematizer,  of  Western  monachism :  and  it  is 
hoped  that  the  copious  illustrations  from  the  Benedictine  rule  given  in  the  notes  to  the  first 
four  books  of  the  Institutes  will  serve  to  show  how  much  the  founder  of  the  greatest  order  in 
the  West  was  really  indebted  to  his  less-known  predecessor.  "He  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
organization  of  Gallic  monasteries  lessons  learnt  in  the  East.  Although  S.  Martin  and 
others  were  before  him,  yet  his  life  must  be  regarded  as  a  new  departure  for  monasticism  in 
the  land.  The  religious  communities  of  S.  Martin  and  S.  Victricius  in  the  centre  of  France 
were  doubtless  rudimentary  and  half-developed  in  discipline  when  compared  with  that 
established  by  Cassian  at  Marseilles,  and  with  the  many  others  which  speedily  arose  mod- 
elled upon  his  elaborate  rules."3  The  high  estimation  in  which  his  work  was  held  through- 
out the  Middle  Ages  is  shown  not  only  by  the  immense  number  of  MSS.  of  the  Institutes  and 
Conferences  which  still  remain  scattered  throughout  the  libraries  of  Europe,  but  also  by  the 
recommendation  of  them  by  Cassiodorus,  and  by  S.  Benedict  himself,  who  enjoins  that  the 
Conferences  should  be  read  daily  by  the  monks  of  his  order. 

At  Marseilles,  then,  Cassian  settled;  and  here  it  was  that  he  wrote  his  three  great  works, 
—  the  Institutes,  the  Conferences,  and  On  the  Incarnation  against  Nestorius ;  the  two  former 
being  written  for  the  express  purpose  of  encouraging  and  developing  the  monastic  life.  Of 
these  the  Institutes  was  the  earliest,  being  composed  in  "twelve  books  on  the  institutes  of 
the  monasteries  and  the  remedies  for  the  eight  principal  faults,"4  at  the  request  of  Castor, 
Bishop  of  Apta  Julia,  some  forty  miles  due  north  of  Marseilles,  who  was  desirous  of  intro- 
ducing the  monastic  life  into  his  diocese,  where  it  was  still  a  thing  unknown.5  As  Castor 
died  in  426,°  and  the  work  is  dedicated  to  him,  it  must  have  been  written  some  time  between 
the  years  419  and  426.  When  it  was  first  undertaken  Cassian's  design  already  was  to  follow 
it  up  by  a  second  treatise  containing  the  Conferences  of  the  Fathers,  to  which  he  several 
times  alludes  in  the  Institutes  as  a  forthcoming  work,7  and  which,  like  the  companion 
volume,  was  undertaken  at  Castor's  instigation.  But,  before  even  the  first  part  of  it  was  ready 
for  publication,  the  Bishop  of  Apta  was  dead;  and  thus,  to  Cassian's  sorrow,  he  was  unable 
to  dedicate  it  to  him,  as  he  had  hoped  to  do.  He  therefore  dedicated  Conferences  L— X.  (the 
first  portion  of  the  work)  to  Leontius,  Bishop  (probably)  of  Frejus,  and  Helladius,  who  is 
termed  "  frater  "  in  the  Preface  to  this  work,  though,  as  we  see  from  the  Preface  to  Conference 
.XVIII.,  he  was  afterwards  raised  to  the  episcopate.8 

This  portion  of  Cassian's  work  must  have  been  completed  shortly  after  the  death  of 
Castor  in  426.  It  was  speedily  followed  by  Part  II.,  containing  Conferences  XL  to  XVII. 
This  is  dedicated  to  Honoratus  and  Eucherius,  who  are  styled  "fratres."  Eucherius  did 
not  become  Bishop  of  Lyons  till  434;  but,  as  Honoratus  was  raised  to  the  see  of  Aries  in 
426,  the  volume  must  have  been  published  not  later  than  that  year,  or  he  would  have  been 
termed  "Episcopus,"  as  he  is  in  the  Preface  to  Conference  XVIII. ,  instead  of  "frater." 

The  third  and  last  part  of  the  work,  containing  Conferences  XVIII.  to  XXIV.,  is  dedi- 
cated to  jovinian,  Minervius,  Leontius,  and  Theodore,  who  are  collectively  styled  "fratres." 
Leontius  must,  therefore,  be  a  different  person  from  the  bishop  to  whom  Conferences  I.-X. 
were  dedicated;  and  nothing  further  is  known  of  him,  or  of  Minervius  and  Jovinian.  Theo- 
dore was  afterwards  raised  to  the  Episcopate,  and  succeeded  Leontius  in  the  see  of  Frejus  in 
432.     This  third  part  of  Cassian's  work  was  ready  before  the  death  of   Honoratus,  Bishop  of 

1  Montalembert,  1.  c. 

1  The  Acts  of_S.  Victor's  martyrdom  given  by  Ruinart,  Acta  Sincera,  p.  225,  have  been  attributed  by  Tillemont  and  others  to  Cassian, 
but  without  sufficient  reason. 

3  The  Church  in  Roman  Gaul,  by  R.  Travers  Smith,  p.  245. 

4  This_  is  the  title  which  Cassian  himself  gives  to  the  work  111  his  Preface  to  the  Conferences. 

6  Institutes,  Preface. 

B  Castor  is  commemorated  on  the  twenty-first  of  September.     See  the  Bollandist  Acta  Sanctorum,  Sept.  VI.  249. 

7  See  the  Institutes  II.  i.,  ix.,  xviii.  ;  V.  iv. 

8  With  Papa  Leonti et  Sancte frater  Helladi,  in  the  Preface  to  Conference  I.,  compare  beatissimis  Episcopis  Helladio  ac  Leontio,  in 
the  Preface  to  Conference  XVIII. 


190  PROLEGOMENA. 


Aries,  who  is  spoken  of  in  the  Preface  as  if  still  living;  and,  therefore,  its  publication  cannot 
be  later  than  428,  as  Honoratus  died  in  January,  429. 

Thus  the  whole  work  was  completed  between  the  years  426  and  428;  and  now  Cassian, 
who  was  growing  old,  was  desirous  of  rest,  feeling  as  if  his  life's  work  was  nearly  over.1 
But  the  repose  which  he  sought  was  not  to  be  granted  to  him,  for  the  remaining  years  of  his 
life  were  troubled  by  two  controversies,  —  the  Nestorian,  and  the  Pelagian,  — or,  rather,  its 
offshoot,  the  Semi-Pelagian.  Into  the  history  of  the  former  of  these  there  is  no  need  to  enter 
here  in  detail.  It  broke  out  at  Constantinople,  where  Nestorius  had  become  bishop  in  suc- 
cession to  Sisinnius,  in  428.  The  immediate  occasion  which  gave  rise  to  the  controversy  was 
a  sermon  by  Anastasius,  the  Bishop's  chaplain,  in  which  he  inveighed  against  the  title 
Theotocos,  as  given  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  This  at  once  created  a  great  sensation,  as 
Nestorius  warmly  supported  his  chaplain,  and  proceeded  to  develop  the  heresy  connected 
with  his  name,  in  a  course  of  sermons.  News  of  the  controversy  was  brought  to  Egypt,  and 
Cyril  of  Alexandria  at  once  entered  into  the  fray.  After  some  correspondence  between  the 
two  bishops,  both  parties  endeavoured  to  gain  the  adherence  of  the  Church  of  Rome  early  in 
the  year  430;  and  now  it  was  that  Cassian  became  mixed  up  with  the  dispute.  Greek  learn- 
ing was  evidently  at  a  low  ebb  in  the  Roman  Church  at  this  time;2  and  it  was,  perhaps, 
partly  owing  to  Cassian's  familiar  acquaintance  with  this  language,  as  well  as  owing  to  his 
connexion  with  Constantinople,  where  the  trouble  had  now  arisen,  that  Celestine's  Archdeacon 
Leo  turned  to  him  at  this  crisis  for  help.  Anyhow,  whatever  was  the  reason,  an  earnest 
appeal  from  Rome  reached  him,  begging  him  to  write  a  refutation  of  the  new  heresy.  After 
some  hesitation  he  consented,  and  the  result  of  his  labours  is  seen  in  the  seven  books  on  the 
Incarnation  against  Nestorius.  The  work  was  evidently  done  in  haste,  and  published  in  430, 
before  the  Council  of  Ephesus  (for  Cassian  speaks  of  Nestorius  throughout  as  still  Bishop 
of  Constantinople),  and,  judging  from  the  way  in  which  Augustine  is  spoken  of  in  VII. 
xxvii.,  before  the  death  of  that  Father,  which  took  place  in  August,  430.  A  great  part  of  the 
work  is  occupied  with  Scripture  proof  of  our  Lord's  Divinity  and  unity  of  Person;  but,  taken 
as  a  whole,  the  treatise  is  distinctly  of  less  value  than  Cassian's  earlier  writings,  and  betrays 
the  haste  in  which  it  was  composed  by  the  occasional  use  of  inaccurate  language  on  the 
subject  of  the  Incarnation,  and  of  terms  and  phrases  which  the  mature  judgment  of  the 
Church  has  rejected.  But  the  writer's  keen  penetration  is  seen  by  the  quickness  with  which 
he  connects  the  new  heresy  with  the  teaching  of  Pelagius,  the  connecting  link  between  the 
two  being  found  in  the  errors  of  Leporius  of  Treves,  who,  in  propagating  Pelagian  views  of 
man's  sufficiency  and  strength,  had  applied  them  to  the  case  of  our  Lord,  not  shrinking  from 
the  conclusion  that  He  was  a  mere  man  who  had  used  his  free  will  so  well  as  to  have  lived 
without  sin,  and  had  only  been  made  Christ  in  virtue  of  His  baptism,  whereby  the  Divine 
and  human  were  associated  in  such  manner  that  virtually  there  were  two  Christs.3  The 
connexion  between  Nestorian  ism  and  Pelagian  ism  has  often  been  noticed  by  later  writers, 
but  to  Cassian  belongs  the  credit  of  having  been  the  first  to  point  it  out.  Of  the  impression 
produced  by  his  book  we  have  no  record.  He  appears  to  have  taken  no  further  part  in  the 
controversy,  which,  indeed,  must  have  been  to  him  an  episode,  coming  in  the  midst  of  that 
other  controversy  with  which  his  name  is  inseparably  associated;  viz.,  that  on  Semi-Pela- 
gianism,  on  which  something  must  now  be  said. 

The  controversy  arose  in  the  following  way.  During  the  struggle  with  Pelagianism 
between  the  years  410  and  420,  Augustine's  views  on  the  absolute  need  of  grace  were  gradu- 
ally hardening  into  a  theory  that  grace  was  irresistible  and  therefore  indefectible.  "  Intent 
above  all  things  on  magnifying  the  Divine  Sovereignty,  he  practically  forgot  the  complexity' 
of  the  problem  in  hand  and  failed  to  do  justice  to  the  human  element  in  the  mysterious  pro- 
cess of  man's  salvation."  4  The  view  of  an  absolute  predestination  irrespective  of  foreseen 
character,  and  of  the  irresistible  and  indefectible  character  of  grace,  was  put  forward  by  him, 
in  a  letter  to  a  Roman  priest,  Sixtus,  in  the  year  418. 5  Some  years  afterwards  this  letter  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  monks  of  Adrumetum,  some  of  whom  were  puzzled  by  its  teaching; 
and,  in  order  to  allay  the  disputes  among  them,  the  matter  was  referred  to  Augustine  himself. 
Thinking  that  the  monks  had  misunderstood  his  teaching,  he  not  only  explained  the  letter 
but  also  wrote  afresh  treatise,  —  "  De  Gratia  et  Libero  Arbitrio  "  (426) ;  and,  when  that  failed 

1  See  the  Preface  to  the  work  On  the  hicarnation  against  Nestorius. 

2  See  the  Epistle  of  Celestine  to  Nestorius  in  Mansi  IV.  1026,  in  which  he  apologizes  for  delay  by  saying  that  the  letter  and  other  docu- 
ments sent  by  Nestorius  had  had  to  be  translated  into  Latin. 

3  See  On  the  Incarnation,  Book  I.  c.  ii.  sq. 

4  The  Anti-Pelagian  Treatises  of  S.  Augustine ;  with  an  Introduction  by  William  Bright,  D.D.  (Oxford),  1S89,  p.  1. 
6  Epistle  xciv. 


PROLEGOMENA.  191 


to  satisfy  the  malcontents,  he  followed  it  up  with  his  work  "  De  Correptione  et  Gratia"  (426), 
which,  so  far  as  the  monks  of  Adrumetum  were  concerned,  seems  to  have  ended  the  contro- 
versy. Elsewhere,  however,  hesitation  was  felt  in  going  the  full  length  of  Augustine's  teach- 
ing; and,  in  the  South  of  Gaul  especially,  many  were  seriously  disturbed  at  the  turn  which 
the  controversy  had  lately  taken,  and  were  prepared  to  reject  Augustine's  teaching,  as  not 
merely  novel,  but  also  practically  dangerous.  "They  said,  in  effect,"  to  quote  Canon 
Bright's  lucid  summary  of  their  position,  "to  treat  predestination  as  irrespective  of  foreseen 
conduct,  and  to  limit  the  Divine  good-will  to  a  fixed  number  of  persons  thus  selected,  who, 
as  such,  are  assured  of  perseverance,  is  not  only  to  depart  from  the  older  theology,  and  from 
the  earlier  teaching  of  the  Bishop  of  Hippo  himself,  but  to  cut  at  the  root  of  religious  effort, 
and  to  encourage  either  negligence  or  despair.  They  insisted  that  whatever  theories  might 
be  devised  concerning  this  mystery,  which  was  not  a  fit  subject  for  popular  discussion,  the 
door  of  salvation  should  be  regarded  as  open  to  all,  because  the  Saviour  '  died  for  .all. '  To 
explain  away  the  Scriptural  assurance  was,  they  maintained,  to  falsify  the  Divine  promise 
and  to  nullify  human  responsibility.  They  believed  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Fall;  they 
acknowledged  the  necessity  of  real  grace  in  order  to  man's  restoration;  they  even  admitted 
that  this  grace  must  be 'prevenient '  to  such  acts  of  will  as  resulted  in  Christian  good 
works:  but  some  of  them  thought  —  and  herein  consisted  the  error  called  Semi-Pelagian  — 
that  nature,  unaided,  could  take  the  first  step  towards  its  recovery,  by  desiring  to  be  healed 
through  faith  in  Christ.  If  it  could  not,  —  if  the  very  beginning  of  all  gocd  were  strictly  a 
Divine  act,  — exhortations  seemed  to  them  to  be  idle,  and  censure  unjust,  in  regard  to  those 
on  whom  no  such  act  had  been  wrought,  and  who,  therefore,  until  it  should  be  wrought,  were 
helpless,  and  so  far  guiltless,  in  the  matter."  x  Of  the  party  which  took  up  this  position 
Cassian  was  the  recognized  head.  True,  he  did  not  directly  enter  into  the  controversy  him- 
self, nor  is  he  the  author  of  any  polemical  works  upon  the  subject;  but  it  is  impossible  to 
doubt  that  the  thirteenth  Conference,  containing  the  teaching  of  Abbot  Chaeremon  on  the 
Protection  of  God,  was  intended  to  meet  what  he  evidently  regarded  as  a  serious  error;  viz., 
the  implicit  denial  by  the  Augustinians  of  the  need  of  effort  on  man's  part. 

Augustine  was  informed  of  the  teaching  of  the  School  of  Marseilles,  as  it  was  called,  by 
one  Hilary  (a  layman,  not  to  be  confounded  with  his  namesake,  the  Bishop  of  Aries),  who 
wrote  to  him  two  letters,  of  which  the  former  is  lost.  The  latter  is  still  existing,  and  con- 
tains a  careful  account  of  what  was  maintained  at  Marseilles.  Towards  the  close  of  it 
Hilary  says  that,  as  he  was  pressed  for  time,  he  had  prevailed  upon  a  friend  to  write  as  well, 
and  would  attach  his  letter  to  his  own.  This  friend  was  Prosper  of  Aquitaine,  also  a  layman 
and  an  ardent  Augustinian,  whose  epistle  has  been  preserved  as  well  as  Hilary's.2  From  these 
letters,  and  from  the  works  which  Augustine  wrote  in  reply,  we  learn  that  the  "  Massilians  " 
had  been  first  disturbed  by  some  of  Augustine's  earlier  writings,  as  the  Epistle  to  Paulinus; 
and  that  their  distrust  of  his  teaching  on  the  subjects  of  Grace,  Predestination,  and  Freewill 
had  been  increased  by  the  receipt  of  his  work  "De  Correptione  et  Gratia,"  although  in  other 
matters  they  agreed  with  him  entirely,  and  were  great  admirers  of  his.8  Personally,  they  are 
spoken  of  with  great  respect  as  men  of  no  common  virtue,  and  of  wide  influence ;  and,  though 
Cassian's  name  is  never  mentioned  in  the  correspondence,  yet  it  is  easy  to  read  between  the 
lines  and  see  that  he  is  referred  to.4 

Augustine  replied  to  his  correspondents  by  writing  what  proved  to  be  almost  his  latest 
works,  — the  treatises  "De  Prasdestinatione  Sanctorum"  and  "  De  dono  Perseverantiae."  In 
these  volumes  Augustine,  while  freely  acknowledging  the  great  difference  between  his  oppo- 
nents and  the  Pelagians,  yet  maintained  as  strongly  as  ever  his  own  position,  and  "  did  not 
abate  an  iota  of  the  contention  that  election  and  rejection  were  arbitrary,  and  that  salvation 
was  not  really  within  the  reach  of  all  Christians."  5  Thus  the  books  naturally  failed  to  satisfy 
the  recalcitrant  party,  or  to  convince  those  who  thought  that  the  denial  of  the  freedom  of 
the  will  tended  to  destroy  man's  responsibility.  Prosper,  however,  was  delighted  with  the 
treatises,  and  proceeded  to  follow  them  up  with  a  work  of  his  own,  a  poem  of  a  thousand  lines, 

1  Anti-Pelagian  Treatises,  p.  Hv.,  lv. 

2  Epp.  ccxxv.,  ccxxvi.,  in  the  correspondence  of  S.  Augustine.      Works,  Vol.  II.  S20,  in  the  Benedictine  Edition. 

^  Cassian  himself  quotes  Augustine  as  an  authority  for  the  Catholic  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation  in  his  work  against  Nestorius,  VII. 
xxvn.  But  it  is  remarkable  that,  whereas  on  all  the  other  authorities  quoted  (Hilary,  Ambrose,  Jerome,  Rufinus,  Gregory,  Nazianzen, 
Athanasius,  and  Chrysostom)  a  high  encomium  is  passed,  Augustine  alone  is  alluded  to  with  no  words  of  praise,  being  simply  spoken  of 
as  priest  (sacerdos)  of  Hippo  Regius.  There  is  no  authority  for  the  reading  "  magnus  sacerdos,"  found  in  the  editions  of  Cuyck  and  Gazet, 
which  misled  Neander.     Ch.  Hist.  Vol.  IV.  p.  376,  E.  T. 

The  only  person  referred  to  by  name  is  Hilary,  who  had  just  succeeded  Honoratus  as  Bishop  of  Aries.  This  fixes  the  date  of  the 
correspondence  as  429. 

6  Bright's  A  nti- Pelagian  Treatises,  1.  c. 


192  PROLEGOMENA. 


"De  Ingratis,"  by  which  he  designates  the  Pelagians  and  Semi-Pelagians,  whose  opinions  he 
speaks  of  as  spreading  with  alarming  rapidity.  The  date  of  this  publication  was  probably  the 
early  part  of  430.  It  was  certainly  written  before  the  death  of  Augustine,  which  took  place 
on  August  28  of  the  same  year.  The  removal  from  this  life  of  the  great  champion  of  Grace 
did  not  bring  to  an  end  the  controversy  to  which  his  writings  had  given  birth.  The  school 
of  Marseilles  continued  to  propagate  its  views  with  unabated  vigour,  in  spite  of  the  protests  of 
Prosper  and  Hilary,  who  finally  took  the  important  step  of  appealing  to  Pope  Celestine,  from 
whom  they  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  letter  addressed  to  the  Gallican  Bishops,  Venerius  of 
Marseilles,  Leontius  of  Frejus,  Marinus,  Auxonius,  Arcadius,  Filtanius,  and  the  rest.1  Ce- 
lestine speaks  strongly  of  their  negligence  in  not  having  suppressed  what  he  regarded  as  a 
public  scandal,  and  says  that  "priests  ought  not  to  teach  so  as  to  invade  the  episcopal  pre- 
rogative," an  expression  in  which  we  may  well  see  an  allusion  to  Cassian,  the  leading  presbyter, 
of  the  diocese  of  Marseilles,  whose  Bishop  is  named  first  in  the  opening  salutation;  and 
the  letter  concludes  with  some  words  of  eulogium  on  Augustine  uof  holy  memory.''  Never, 
perhaps,  was  Gallican  independence  shown  in  a  more  striking  manner  than  in  the  sturdy  way 
in  which  the  Massilians  clung  to  their  views  in  spite  of  the  authority  of  the  Pope  now  brought 
to  bear  upon  them.  Prosper  and  Hilary  on  their  return  found  the  obnoxious  teaching  daily 
spreading,  so  that  the  former  of  them  finally  determined  to  put  down,  if  possible,  the  upholders 
of  the  objectionable  tenets  by  a  direct  criticism  of  Cassian's  Conferences.  This  was  the  ori- 
gin of  Prosper's  work  "  Contra  Collatorem,"  against  the  author  of  the  Conferences,  a  treatise  of 
considerable  power  and  force,  although  not  scrupulously  fair.2  The  respect  in  which  Cassian 
was  held  is  strikingly  shown  by  the  fact  that  his  antagonist  never  once  names  him  directly, 
but  merely  speaks  of  him  as  a  man  of  priestly  rank  who  surpassed  all  his  companions  in 
power  of  arguing.  The  work  consists  of  an  examination  of  the  thirteenth  Conference,  that 
of  Abbot  Chasremon,  on  the  Protection  of  God,  from  which  Prosper  extracts  twelve  proposi- 
tions, the  first  of  which  "he  says  is  orthodox  while  all  the  others  are  erroneous3.      He  concludes 

1  The  letter  is  given  in  full  in  Gazet's  edition  of  Cassian,  with  certain  doctrinal  articles  appended,  which  really  belong  to  a  later  date. 
See  Dr.  Newman's  note  to  the  English  translation  of  Fleury,  Book.  XXV  I.  c.  xi. 

2  The  treatise  is  given  in  Gazet's  edition  of  Cassian. 

3  The  propositions  extracted  by  Prosper  are  the  following  :  — 

(1)  That  the  initiative  not  only  of  our  actions  but  also  of  our  good  thoughts  comes  from  God,  who  inspires  us  with  a  good  will  to  begin 
with,  and  supplies  us  with  the  opportunity  of  carrying  out  what  we  rightly  desire ;  for  "  every  good  gift  and  every  perfect  gift  cometb  down 
from  above,  from  the  Father  of  light,"  who  both  begins  what  is  good,  and  continues  it  and  completes  it  in  us.  c.  iii.  This  proposition 
Prosper  allows  to  be  catholic  and  orthodox. 

(2)  The  Divine  protection  is  inseparably  present  with  us,  and  so  great  is  the  kindness  of  the  Creator  towards  His  creatures  that  His 
Providence  not  only  accompanies  it,  but  even  constantly  precedes  it,  as  the  prophet  experienced  and  plainly  confessed,  saying,  "  My  God 
will  prevent  me  with  His  mercy."  And  when  He  sees  in  us  some  beginnings  of  a  good  will,  He  at  once  enlightens  and  strengthens  it,  and 
urges  it  on  towards  salvation,  increasing  that  which  He  Himself  implanted,  or  which  He  sees  to  have  arisen  from  our  own  efforts,     c.  viii. 

(3)  Only  in  all  these  there  is  a  declaration  of  the  grace  of  God  and  the  freedom  of  the  will,  because  even  of  his  own  motion  a  man  can 
be  led  to  the  quest  of  virtue,  but  always  stands  in  need  of  the  help  of  the  Lord.  For  neither  does  any  one  enjoy  good  health  whenever  he 
likes,  nor  is  he  of  his  own  will  and  pleasure  set  free  from  disease  and  sickness,     c.  ix. 

(4)  That  it  may  be  still  clearer  that,  through  the  excellence  of  nature,  which  is  granted  by  the  goodness  of  the  Creator,  sometimes  the 
first  beginnings  of  a  good  will  arise,  which,  however,  cannot  attain  to  the  complete  performance  of  what  is  good  unless  they  are  guided 
by  the  Lord,  the  apostle  bears  witness,  and  says,  "  For  to  will  is  present  with  me,  but  to  perform  what  is  good  I  find  not."     lb. 

(5)  And  so  these  are  somehow  mixed  up  and  indiscriminately  confused,  so  that,  among  many  persons,  the  question  which  depends  upon 
the  other  is  involved  in  great  difficulty;  i.e.,  does  God  have  compassion  upon  us  because  we  have  shown  the  beginning  of  a  good  will,  or 
does  the  beginning  of  a  good  will  follow  because  God  has  had  compassion  upon  us  ?  For  many,  believing  each  of  these  alternatives,  and 
asserting  them  more  broadly  than  is  right,  are  entangled  in  all  kinds  of  opposite  errors.  For  if  we  say  that  the  beginning  of  free  will  is  in 
our  own  power,  what  about  Paul  the  persecutor,  what  about  Matthew  the  publican,  of  whom  the  one  was  drawn  to  salvation  while  eager 
for  bloodshed  and  the  punishment  of  the  innocent,  the  other  while  eager  for  violence  and  rapine?  But,  if  we  say  that  the  beginning  of  our 
free  will  is  always  due  to  the  inspiration  of  the  grace  of  God,  what  about  the  faith  of  Zacchaeus,  or  what  are  we  to  say  of  the  goodness  of 
the  thief  on  the  cross,  who  by  their  own  desires  brought  violence  to  bear  on  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  prevented  the  special  leadings  of 
their  vocation  ?     c.  xi. 

(6)  These  two,  then,  viz.,  the  grace  of  God  and  Free-will,  seem  opposed  to  each  other,  but  really  are  in  harmony ;  and  we  gather  from, 
natural  piety  that  we  ought  to  have  both  alike,  lest  if  we  withdraw  one  of  them  from  men  we  should  seem  to  have  broken  the  rule  of  the 
Church's  faith.     lb.  . 

(7)  Adam,  therefore,  after  the  fall,  conceived  a  knowledge  of  evil  which  he  had  not  previously,  but  did  not  lose  the  knowledge  of  good 
which  lie  already  possessed,     c.  xii. 

(S)  Wherefore  we  must  take  care  not  to  refer  all  the  merits  of  the  saints  to  the  Lord  in  such  a  way  as  to  ascribe  nothing  but  what  is  evil 
and  perverse  to  human  nature.    lb. 

(9)  It  cannot  be  doubted  that  there  are  by  nature  some  seeds  of  goodness  implanted  by  the  kindness  of  the  Creator,  but  unless  they  are 
quickened  by  the  assistance  of  God  they  cannot  attain  an  increase  of  perfection.     lb. 

(10)  And  for  this,  too,  we  read  that  in  the  case  of  Job,  his  well-tried  athlete,  when  the  Devil  had  challenged  him  to  single  combat,  the 
Divine  righteousness  had  made  provision.  For,  if  he  had  advanced  against  his  foe  not  with  his  own  strength,  but  solely  with  the  protection 
of  God's  grace,  and,  supported  only  by  Divine  aid,  without  any  virtue  of  patience  on  his  own  part,  had  borne  that  manifold  weight  of  tempta- 
tions and  losses,  contrived  with  all  the  cruelty  of  his  foe  might  not  the  Devil  have  repeated  with  some  justice  that  slanderous  speech  which 
he  had  previously  uttered,  "  Doth  Job  serve  God  for  nought?  Hast  Thou  not  hedged  him  in,  and  all  his  substance  round  about?  But 
take  away  thine  hand,"  ie.,  allow  him  to  fight  with  me  in  his  own  strength,  "  and  he  will  curse  Thee  to  Thy  face."  But,  as  after  the 
struggle  the  slanderous  foe  dared  not  give  vent  to  any  such  murmur  as  this,  he  admitted  that  he  was  vanquished  by  his  (i.e.,  Job's)  strength, 
and  not  by  that  of  God:  although,  too,  we  must  not  hold  that  the  grace  of  God  was  altogether  wanting  to  him,  which  gave  to  the  tempter  a 
power  of  tempting  in  proportion  to  that  which  he  had  of  resisting,     c.  xiv. 

(11)  The  Lord  marvelled  at  him  (viz.,  the  centurion),  and  praised  him,  and  put  him  before  all  those  of  the  people  of  Israel  who  had 
believed,  saying,  "Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  I  have  not  found  so  great  faith  in  Israel."  For  there  would  have  been  no  ground  for  praise  or 
merit  if  Christ  had  only  preferred  in  him  what  He  Himself  had  given.     lb. 

(12)  Hence  it  comes  that  in  our  prayers  we  proclaim  God  as  not  only  our  protector  and  Saviour,  but  actually  as  our  helper  and  sponsor. 
For  whereas  He  first  calls  us  to  Him,  and  while  we  are  still  ignorant  and  unwilling  draws  us  towards  salvation,  He  is  our  protector  and 


PROLEGOMENA.  193 


by  warning  his  antagonist  of  the  danger  of  Pelagianism,  and  expresses  a  hope  that  his  doctrine 
may  be  condemned  by  Pope  Sixtus  as  it  had  been  by  Celestine  and  his  predecessors.  The 
last  statement  fixes  the  date  of  the  book  as  not  earlier  than  432 ;  for  Celestine  only  died  in 
April  in  that  year. 

Cassian  was  evidently  still  living  when  this  attack  upon  him  was  made;  but,  so  far  as  we 
know,  he  made  no  reply  to  it.  Its  publication  is  the  last  event  in  his  life  of  which  we  have 
any  knowledge.  He  probably  died  shortly  afterwards,  as  the  expression  used  by  Gennadius 
in  speaking  of  his  work  against  Nestorius  would  seem  to  imply  that  it  preceded  his  death  by 
no  long  interval ;  for  he  says  that  with  this  he  brought  to  a  close  his  literary  labours  and  his 
life  in  the  reign  of  Theodosius  and  Valentinian.1 

The  controversy  on  Grace  and  Freewill  lingered  on  for  nearly  a  century  longer,  and  was 
only  finally  disposed  of  by  the  wise  moderation  shown  by  Caesarius  of  Aries  and  those  who 
acted  with  him  at  the  Council  of  Orange  (Arausio),  in  the  year  529. 2 

While  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  teaching  of  Cassian  and  his  school  in  denying  the 
necessity  of  initial  and  prevenient  grace  is  erroneous  and  opens  a  door  at  which  Pelagianism 
may  easily  creep  in,  yet  it  was  an  honest  attempt  to  vindicate  human  responsibility;  and  it 
must  be  frankly  admitted  that  the  teaching  of  Augustine  was  one-sided  and  required  to  be 
balanced:  nor  would  the  question  have  ever  been  brought  into  prominence  had  it  not  been 
for  the  hard  and  rigorous  way  in  which  the  doctrine  of  Predestination  was  taught,  and  the 
denial  that  the  possibility  of  salvation  lay  within  the  reach  of  all  men.  While,  then,  it  is 
granted  that  a  verdict  of  guilty  must  be  returned  on  the  charge  of  Semi-Pelagianism  in  Cas- 
sian's  case,  we  are  surely  justified  in  claiming  that  a  recommendation  to  mercy  be  attached 
to  it  on  the  plea  of  extenuating  circumstances.  Since  his  death  Cassian  has  ever  occupied  a 
somewhat  ambiguous  position  in  the  mind  of  the  Church.  Never  formally  canonized,  his 
name  is  not  found  in  the  Calendars  of  the  West;  nor  is  he  honoured  with  the  title  of  "  Saint." 
He  is,  however,  generally  spoken  of  as  " the  blessed  Cassian,"  holding  in  this  respect  the 
same  position  as  Theodoret,  of  whom  Dr.  Newman  says  that,  though  he  "has  the  responsi- 
bility of  acts  which  have  forfeited  to  him  that  oecumenical  dignity,"  yet  he  is  "not  without 
honorary  title  in  the  Church's  hagiology;  for  he  has  ever  been  known  as  the  '  blessed  Theo- 
doret. '  "  3  In  the  East  Cassian's  position  is  somewhat  better.  He  is  there  regarded  as  a  saint, 
and  may  possibly  be  intended  by  the  Cassian  who  is  commemorated  on  February  29. 4  It  is 
only  natural  that  this  difference  should  be  made,  for  the  Eastern  Church  has  always  held  a 
milder  view  of  the  effect  of  the  Fall  than  that  which  has  been  current  in  the  West  since  the 
days  of  Augustine ;  and,  indeed,  Cassian,  in  making  his  protest  againt  the  rising  tide  of  Augus- 
tinianism,  was  in  the  main  only  handing  on  the  teaching  which  he  had  received  from  his 
Eastern  instructors. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  HISTORY  OF   CASSIAN'S   WRITINGS,   MSS.,  AND   EDITIONS. 

The  literary  history  of  Cassian's  works  is  not  without  an  interest  of  its  own.  We  have 
already  seen  the  estimation  in  which  they  were  held  in  spite  of  their  Semi-Pelagian  doctrines. 
These  were  naturally  accounted  a  blemish,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  those  who  most 
admired  their  excellences  were  anxious  to  avoid  propagating  their  errors.  Hence  they  were 
often  "expurgated,"  and  in  many  MSS.  the  text  has  suffered  considerably  from  the  changes 
made  by  copyists  in  the  interests  of  orthodoxy.  As  early  as  the  fifth  century  we  find  two 
revised  versions  of  portions  of  his  works  existing.      His  friend  Eucherius,  Bishop  of  Lyons, 


Saviour;  but  whereas,  when  we  are  already  striving,  He  is  wont  to  bring  us  help,  and  to  receive  and  defend  those  who  fly  to  Him  for  refuge, 
He  is  deemed  our  sponsor  and  refuge,     c.  xvii. 

This  last  extract  is  in  itself  perfectly  orthodox,  and  might  be  thought  merely  to  express  the  distinction  between  "preventing"  and 
'co-operating"  grace;  but  the  context  makes  it  clear  that  Cassian  means  that  in  some  cases  grace  "prevents,"  while  in  others  the  initial 
movement  towards  salvation  comes  from  man,  and  grace  is  only  needed  to  "  co-operate." 

1  Gennadius,  in  Catal.,  c.  lxii.     Ad  extremum  rogatus  a  Leone  Archidiacono,  posteaurbis  Roma  Episcopo,  scripsit  adversus  Nestorium 
De  Incarnatione  Domini "  libros  septem,  et  in  his  scribendi  apud  Massiliam  et  vivendi  finem  fecit  Theodosio  et  Valentiniano  regnantibus. 

The  local  commemoration  of  Cassian  is  on  July  23. 

2  On  the  history  of  Semi-Pelagianism  see  'Brighl's,  Anti-Pelagum  Treatises  of  S.  Augustine,  Introd.,pp.  xlix.-lxviii.,  and  the  Christian 
Remembrancer,  Vol.  XXXI.  pp.  155-162. 

3  Historical  Sketches,  Vol.  III.,  p.  307. 

4  The  identification  is  anything  but  certain,  for  though  there  is  no  difficulty  in  the  term  'Pwftalos,  as  that  is  also  applied  to  our  author 
by  Photius,  yet  the  additional  statement  made  in  the  Horologion,  that  he  was  originally  o-rpaTnoTiKo?  Tt\v  xafii',  suggests  that  a  different 
person  is  alluded  to,  possibly  the  same  as  the  Cassian  commemorated  in  the  Roman  martyrology  on  August  13. 

A  list  of  some  twenty-five  churches  where  Cassian  is  honoured  as  a  saint  is  given  in  Guesnay's  Cassianus  Illustratus. 


194  PROLEGOMENA. 


was  the  author  of  an  epitome  of  the  Institutes,  which  still  exists;1  and  although  this  was 
compiled  for  convenience'  sake  because  of  the  length  of  the  original  work,  rather  than  from 
any  suspicion  of  his  teaching,  the  case  is  different  with  a  recension  made  for  use  in  Africa 
by  Victor,  Bishop  of  Martyrites.  This  is  no  longer  extant,  but  Cassiodorus  distinctly  tells  us 
that  it  was  made  in  the  interests  of  orthodoxy  by  means  of  expurgation  as  well  as  addition  of 
what  was  wanting.2  Yet  another  epitome  of  three  of  the  Conferences  (I.,  II.,  VII.)  was  made 
at  some  time  before  the  tenth  century.  It  was  translated  into  Greek,  and  known  to  Photius, 
who  speaks3  of  three  works  of  Cassian  as  translated  into  Greek:  viz.,  (i)  an  Epitome  of  the 
Institutes,  Books  I. -IV. ;  (2)  Epitome  of  the  Institutes,  Books  V.-XII. ;  and  (3)  one  of  the 
Conferences  I.,  II.,  VII. 

Thus  in  very  early  days  the  fashion  was  set  of  expurgating  and  emending  the  writings  of 
Cassian;  and  Leuwis  de  Ryckel,  better  known  as  Dionysius  Carthusianus,  might  have  quoted 
several  precedents  for  his  method  of  dealing  with  the  text.  This  famous  divine,  — the  doctor 
exstaticus  of  the  fifteenth  century,  —  shocked  as  others  had  been  before  him  at  the  Semi-Pela- 
gianism  of  the  Conferences,  and  yet  sensible  of  their  real  value  in  spite  of  sundry  blemishes, 
took  in  hand  to  correct  them,  and  gave  to  the  world  a  free  paraphrase  both  of  the  Institutes 
and  of  the  Conferences,  in  a  somewhat  simple  style  and  one  more  easy  to  be  understood  than 
the  original.  The  greatest  alterations,  as  might  be  expected,  are  visible  in  the  thirteenth 
Conference ;  as  Dionysius,  in  his  endeavour  to  make  Cassian  orthodox,  omits  all  that  savours 
of  Semi-Pelagianism;  and  from  c.  viii.  onward  there  are  large  omissions  and  various  sugges- 
tive alterations  in  the  text.4 

Incidental  mention  has  been  already  made  of  the  esteem  in  which  the  Institutes  and 
Conferences  were  held  by  S.  Benedict  and  Cassiodorus.  In  the  Rule  of  the  former  (c.  xlii.) 
it  is  ordered  that  after  supper  the  brethren  should  assemble  together,  and  one  of  them 
should  read  the  Conferences,  or  Lives  of  the  Fathers,  or  any  other  book  calculated  to  edify. 
And  again,  in  the  closing  chapter  of  the  same  rule,  the  study  of  them  is  recommended  to  those 
who  are  desirous  of  perfection ;  for  "  what  are  the  Conferences  of  the  Fathers,  the  Institutes, 
and  the  lives  of  them;  what,  too,  the  Rule  of  our  holy  father,  S.  Basil,  but  examples  of 
virtuous  and  obedient  monks,  and  helps  to  the  attainment  of  virtue?  "  Equally  strong  is  the 
recommendation  of  Cassiodorus :  "  Sedulo  legite,  frequenter  audite;  "  but  at  the  same  time 
he  reminds  his  readers  that  Cassian  was  very  properly  censured  by  Prosper  for  his  teaching  on 
Freewill,  and  that,  therefore,  he  is  to  be  read  with  caution  whenever  he  touches  on  this  subject. 
With  testimonies  such  as  these  to  their  value  it  is  no  wonder  that  copies  were  rapidly  multi- 
plied, so  that  scarcely  a  monastery  was  without  a  copy  of  some  part  of  them;  and  existing 
MSS.  of  the  Institutes  and  Conferences  are  very  numerous.  But  none  of  the  oldest  MSS. 
contain  the  complete  work.  The  Institutes  were  often  regarded  as  made  up  of  two  separate 
treatises,  —  (1)  the  Institutes  of  the  Coenobia,  containing  Books  I. -IV.,  and  (2)  On  the 
Eight  Principal  Faults,  comprising  Books  V.-XII.  So,  too,  with  the  Conferences,  and  their 
three  divisions:  they  are  often  found  separately  in  different  MSS. 

The  MSS.  being  so  numerous,  it  was  found  impossible  to  collate  them  all  for  the  latest 
edition  of  Cassian's  works;  viz.,  that  edited  by  Petschenig  for  the  Vienna  Corpus  Scriptorum 
Ecclesiasticorum  Latinorum.  The  Editor  therefore  confined  his  attention  to  a  limited  num- 
ber, of  which  the  following  is  the  list. 

I.   The  Institutes. 

1.  Codex  Casinensis  Rescriptus,  295.  A  Palimpsest  with  the  Epistles  of  S.  Jerome  written  over  Cassian's 
work.  The  date  of  this  MS.  is  the  seventh  or  eighth  century,  and  it  contains  portions  only  of  the  Institutes, 
nothing  remaining  of  Books  I.— IV.,  or  of  VIII.  and  IX. 

2.  Codex  Majoris  Seminarii  CEduensis  (Autun),  24.     Seventh  century,  containing  portions  of  Books  V.-XII. 

3.  Caroliruhensis,  87.     Eighth  century,  containing  all  twelve  books. 

4.  Sangallensis,  183.     Ninth  century. 

5.  Parisinus,  12292.     Tenth  century. 

6.  Laudunensis  (Laon),  328  bis.     Ninth  century. 

7.  Caroliruhensis,  164.     Ninth  century. 

1  Gennadius,  Catal.  lxiv.  In  the  Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiguities,  art.  Eucherius,  this  is  said  to  be  lost.  But  see  Migne,  Vol.  L. 
p.  S67  sg  ;  and  cf.  Petschenig's  Introduction  to  Cassian,  p.  xcvi. 

2_  Div.  Lect.  c.  xxix.  Cujus  (Cassiani)  dicta  Victor  Mattaritanus  Episcopus  Afer  ita  Domino  juvante  purgavit  et  quse  minus  erant 
addidit  ut  ei  rerum  istarum  palma  merito  couferatur  :  quem  inter  alios  de  Africa  parlibus  cito  nobis  credimus  esse  dirigendum. 

3  Bibiioth,  Cod.  197. 

4  The  "  Doctrina  Catholica  Beati  Dionysii  Richelii  Carthusiani  precedenti  Collationi  ab  ipso  substituta,"  given  in  Gazet's  edition, 
and  hence  in  Migne's,  as  c.  xix.,'is  only  the  latter  part  of  the  paraphrase  of  this  Conference,  beginning  in  c.  viii.,  with  the  words,  "  Adest 
igiiur  inseparabititer  nobis,"  etc. 

The  paraphrase  may  be  found  in  Vol.  III.  of  the  edition  of  the  works  of  Dionysius,  published  at  Cologne  in  1540.  Of  this  there  is  a 
copy  in  the  British  Museum  which  was  formerly  in  the  possession  of  Archbishop  Cranmer,  and  which  still  contains  his  autograph. 


PROLEGOMENA.  195 


II.  Conferences  I.-X. 

1.  Vaticanus,  5766.     Eighth  century. 

2.  Parisinus,  Bibl.  Nat.,  13384.     Ninth  century. 

3.  Vercellensis  (Chapter  Library),  187,  44.     Cent.  S-10. 

4.  Parisinus.     Bibl.  Nat.  nouv.  fonds,  2170.     Ninth  century.     This  (with  a  few  lacunae)  contains  all  the  Con- 
ferences, being  the  only  one* of  Petschenig's  MSS.  of  which  this  can  be  said. 

5.  Vaticanus,  Bibl.  Palat.,  560.     Tenth  century. 

6.  Sangallensis,  574.     Cent.  9-10.  n 

Of  these  MSS.  the  last  two  contain  many  errors  and  interpolations,  some  of  which  are  followed  in  the  editions 
of  Cassian  published  at  Basle,  1485-1495. 

III.  Conferences  XI.-XVII. 

1.  Sessorianus  (Rome),  55.     Cent.  7-8. 

2.  Petropolitanus,  Bibl.  Imp.  O.  1,  4.     Seventh  or  eighth  century. 

3.  Sangallensis,  576.     Ninth  century. 

4.  Parisinus,  Bibl.  Nat.  nouv.  fonds.,  2170  (as  above). 

5.  Vindobonensis,  397.     Tenth  century.     This  Vienna  MS.  contains  Prosper's  work  Contra  Collatorem,  the 
passages  of  Cassian  being  written  in  the  margin. 

IV.  Conferences  XVIII.-XXIV. 

1.  Monacensis,  4549.     Cent.  8-9. 

2.  Monacensis,  6343.     Ninth  century. 

3.  Parisinus,  Bibl.  Nat.  nouv.  fonds.,  2170  (as  above). 

4.  Vaticanus,  Bibl.  Regina2  Suecise,  140.      Cent.  9-10. 

5.  Caroliruhensis,  92.     Ninth  century. 

6.  Sangallensis,  575.     Ninth  century. 

Passing  now  from  the  Institutes  and  Conferences  to  the  work  "On  the  Incarnation 
against  Nestorius,"  we  are  no  longer  encumbered  by  the  number  of  MSS.  There  was  not  the, 
same  reason  for  the  multiplication  of  copies  of  it  as  there  was  in  the  case  of  those  writings 
which  bore  on  the  monastic  life.  It  appears  never  to  have  obtained  any  special  popularity, 
and,  so  far  as  is  known,  only  seven  MSS.  of  it  are  still  in  existence.  The  following  are  those 
of  which  Petschenig  made  use  for  his  edition :  — 

1.  Codex  Bibl.  Armentarii  Parisiensis  (Bibl.  de   l'Arsenal),  483.     Cent.  10-11. 

2.  British  Museum  addl.,  16414.     Cent.  11-12. 

3.  Parisinus,  Bibl.  Nat.,  14860.     Thirteenth  century. 

4.  Bibl.  Coloniensium  Augustinianorum.     This    MS.  is  now  lost,  but  was  used  by  Cuyck  for  his  edition  of 
Cassian,  and  from  this  Petschenig  is  able  to  give  selected  readings. 

The  remaining  MSS.  known  to  exist,  but  not  used  by  Petschenig,  are  these:  — 

Matritensis,  Bibl.  Nat.,  Q.  106.     Twelfth  century. 

Laurentianus  (Laurentian  Library  at  Florence),    XXVI.,  13.     Fifteenth  century. 
Bibl.  Leop.  Medici  Foesulana?  (also  at  Florence),    48.     Fifteenth  century. 
Parisinus,  2143.     Fourteenth  century.1 

It  only  remains  to  give  some  account  of  the  various  editions  of  the  printed  text. 

It  has  generally  been  stated  that  the  earliest  edition  of  the  Institutes  was  that  printed  at 
Venice  in  1481,  of  which  only  a  single  copy  is  known  to  exist,  viz.,  in  the  Laurentian  Library 
at  Florence;  and  that  the  first  edition  which  included  the  Conferences  was  that  published  by 
Amerbach  at  Basle  in  1485.  This  statement,  however,  appears  to  be  erroneous,  as  there  still 
exists  in  the  British  Museum  a  single  copy  of  a  very  early  black-letter  edition  of  the  Confer- 
ences. The  title-page  is  gone,  and  there  is  no  colophon ;  and,  therefore,  the  date  cannot  be 
given  with  certainty,  but  the  work  is  assigned  by  the  authorities  of  the  Museum  to  the  year 
1476,  and  is  thought  to  have  proceeded  from  the  press  of  the  Brothers  of  the  Common  life  at 
Brussels.  The  first  page  of  the  work  begins  as  follows:  "Ut  Valeas  cor  in  opere  isto  citius 
invenire  qd  requiris  hsec  tibi  concapitulatio  breviter  demostrabit  quis  unde  in  singulis  col- 
lationibus  disputaverit."  Then  follows  a  list  of  the  twenty-four  Conferences  with  their 
authors,  and  the  page  ends  with  these  words :  "  Prologus  cassiani  sup.  collationes  patru  ad 
leontiu  etelladiu  epos.      In  nomine  Domini  ihu  cristi  dei  nostri  feliciter. " 

This,  then,  in  all  probability  was  the  first  edition  of  the  Latin  text  of  the  Conferences.  But 
it  is  a  curious  fact  that  at  a  still  earlier  date  a  free  German  translation  or  paraphrase  of  them 
had  already  been  published.  This,  like  the  work  just  mentioned,  has  been  overlooked  by  all 
the  editors  of  Cassian,  but  two  copies  of  it  still  remain  in  the  British  Museum,  beginning  as 
follow:  "  Hie  liber  a  quodam  egregio  sacrarum  literarum  professore  magistro  Johane  Nide 
ordis  pdicatorum  fratre  de  latino  in  vulgarem  Nuremberge  translatus  est."     The  colophon 

1  On  all  these  MSS.  see  Petschenig's  introduction,  Cassian,  VoL  I.  pp.  xiv.-lxxviii. 


196  PROLEGOMENA. 


in  one  copy  gives  the  date  as  1472,  and  the  place  at  which  it  was  printed  as  Augsberg.  The 
other  copy  has  no  date  but  is  assigned  by  the  authorities  of  the  Museum  to  a  still  earlier 
year;  viz.,   1470. 

The  Basle  edition  of  1485  was  reprinted  at  the  press  of  Amerbach  in  1497  ;  and  at  Venice 
there  was  issued  a  second  edition  of  the  Institutes,  to  which  the  Conferences  were  added,  in 
1491.1  Subsequent  early  editions  are  those  of  Lyons,  in  15 16  and  1525,  and  Bologna  1521. 
But  not  till  1534  were  the  seven  books  on  the  Incarnation  against  Nestorius  published.  They 
appear  for  the  first  time  in  the  edition  which  was  issued  in  this  year  from  the  press  of  Cra- 
tander  at  Basle. 

Far  superior  to  all  these  early  editions,  which  were  very  faulty,  was  that  published  by 
Christopher  Plantin  at  Antwerp  in  1578,  edited  by  H.  Cuyck,  Professor  at  Louvain  and  after- 
ward Bishop  of  Ruremonde.  It  was  undertaken  at  the  suggestion  of  Cardinal  Carafa,  and  its 
full  title  is  the  following:  "D.  Ioannis  Cassiani  Eremitae  Monasticarum  Institutionum  libri 
IIII.  De  Capitalibus  vitiis  libri  VIII.  Collationes  SS.  Patrum  XXIIII.  De  Verbi  Incar- 
natione  libri  VII.  Nunc  demum  post  varias  editiones  ad  complurium  MS.  fidem  a  non  pancis 
mendarum  milibus  incredibili  labore  expurgati:  id  quod  ex  subiectis  ad  calcem  castiga- 
tionibus  facile  cognosci  poterit:  additis  etiam  ad  quaedam  loca  censoriis  notationibus,  et 
obscurarum  vocum  ac  sententiarun  elucidatione,  un  a  cum  duobus  Indicibus  locupletissimis. 
Accesserunt  quoque  Regulae  SS.  Patrum  ex  antiquissimo  Affliginiensis  monasterii  MS. 
codice  desumptie.      Opera  et  studio  Henrici  Cuyckii  Sacrae  Theologian  Licentiati." 

Cuyck' s  work  was  supplemented,  also  at  Carafa's  desire,  by  Petrus  Ciacconius,  a  priest  of 
Toledo,  who  died  in  1581,  before  it  was  ready  for  the  press.  A  new  edition  was,  however,  pub- 
lished at  Rome  in  1588  "ex  Edibus  Dominica?  Basae,"  in  which  the  notes  and  emendations 
of  Ciacconius  were  embodied.  Unfortunately  this  edition  does  not  contain  the  books  on  the 
Incarnation.  Its  full  title  is  as  follows:  "Ioannis  Cassiani  Eremitae  de  institutis  renuntian- 
tium  Libri  XII.  Collationes  Sanctorum  Patrum  XXIIII.  Adiectae  sunt  quarundam  obscura- 
rum dictionum  interpretationes  ordine  alphabeti  dispositas:  et  observationes  in  loca  ambigua 
et  minus  tuta.  Prasterea  Indices  duo  testimoniorum  sacrae  Scripturae,  quae  a  Cassiano  vel 
explicantur,  vel  aliter  quam  vulgata  editio  habet,  citantur:  ac  postremo  verum  memorabi- 
lium  Index  copiosissimus.  Accedit  Regula  S.  Pachomii,  quae  a  S.  Hieronymo  in  Latinum 
sermonem  conversa  est:  Omnia  multo  quam  antehac,  auxilio  vetustissimorum  codicum,  emen- 
datiora,  et  ad  suam  integritatem  restituta."  This  edition,  as  well  as  the  previous  one,  con- 
tained a  dissertation  on  a  number  of  passages  (some  thirty  in  all)  of  doubtful  orthodoxy,  in 
order  to  put  the  reader  on  his  guard  against  following  Cassian  in  his  errors. 

In  1616  there  was  published  at  Douay  in  two  volumes  what  has  remained  until  the  present 
day  the  standard  edition  of  Cassian's  works,  prepared  with  loving  care  by  a  Benedictine 
monk  of  the  Abbey  of  St.  Vaast  at  Arras,  named  Gazet.  This  edition  is  enriched  throughout 
with  copious  annotations,  containing  an  immense  amount  of  illustrative  matter;  and  besides  the 
text  of  Cassian's  works  it  contains  several  other  documents  of  importance  for  a  right  under- 
standing of  them:  The  full  title  is  this:  "Ioannis  Cassiani  presbyteri,  quern  alii  eremitam, 
alii  abbatem  nuncupant,  opera  omnia.  Novissime  recognita,  repurgata  et  notis  amplissi- 
mis  illustrata.  Quibus  accessere  alia  ejusdem  argumenti  opuscula,  quorum  elenchum  sequens 
pagina  exhibebit.      Studio  et  opera  D.  Alardi  Gazaei  ccenobitaa  Vedastini  ord.  Benedicti." 

Besides  the  Institutes,  Conferences,  and  the  work  on  the  Incarnation  against  Nestorius, 
these  volumes  contained  the  following  among  other  material :  — 

The  Rule  of  St.  Pachomius. 

The  Catholic  doctrine  substituted  for  the  latter  part  of  Conference  XIII.  by  Dionysius 
Carthusianus. 

Prosper  "Contra  Collatorem." 

This  edition  has  been  frequently  reprinted,2  some  of  the  later  reprints  containing  still 
more  illustrative  material.  It  still  remains  indispensable  to  the  student  of  Cassian's  works 
by  reason  of  the  valuable  commentary  with  which  it  is  throughout  enriched.  But  for  the  mere 
text  it  is  now  altogether  superseded  by  the  fine  edition  prepared  by  Petschenig  for  the  Vienna 
Corpus  Scriptorum  Ecclesiasticorum  Latinorum,  in  two  volumes. 

Vol.  I.  —  Ioannis  Cassiani  De  Institutis  Ccenobiorum  et  de  octo  Principalium  Vitiorum 
Remediis  Libri  XII.  De  Incarnatione  Domini  Contra  Nestorium  Libri  VII.  recensuit  et 
commentario  critico  instruxit  Michael  Petschenig.  Accedunt  Prolegomena  et  Indices  (Vin- 
dobonae,  1888). 

1  Of  this  edition  there  is  a  copy  in  the  British  Museum  which  formerly  belonged  to  the  Convent  of  S.  Mark  at  Florence,  and  is  enriched 
with  marginal  notes  in  the  handwriting  of  Girolamo  Savonarola. 

2  Gazet  himself  prepared  a  revised  edition,  which  was  brought  out  after  his  death,  at  Arras,  in  162S. 


PROLEGOMENA.  197 


Vol.  II.  — Ioannis  Cassiani  Conlationes  XXIIII.  (Vindobonae,  1886).  Petschenig's  work 
is  admirably  done,  and  the  text  of  this  edition  is  vastly  superior  to  that  of  all  its  predeces- 
sors. In  the  present  translation  it  has  been  used  throughout  the  Conferences.  The  volume 
containing  the  Institutes  and  the  work  on  the  Incarnation  unfortunately  appeared  too  late  for 
the  translation  to  be  made  from  it.  It  has,  however,  been  carefully  compared  with  the  text  of 
Ciacconius,  which  Gazet  merely  repeats,1  and  attention  is  called  to  the  chief  variations  in 
the  notes. 

Mention  has  already  been  made  of  the  early  German  paraphrase  or  translation,  dating  from 
1470  or  1472;  and  the  popularity  of  the  Cassian's  works  is  evinced  by  the  number  of  other 
early  translations  made  into  the  various  languages  of  Europe.  Of  these  next  in  order  of  time 
is  one  in  Flemish.  In  the  copy  of  this  in  the  British  Museum  the  title  is  wanting,  the  book 
beginning  as  follows  :  "  Hier  beghint  der  ouder  vader  collacie.  Hi  hyetede  Ioannes  Cassianus 
die  dese  vieretwintich  navolgende  vad,  collacien  ghemaect  hevet. "  The  colophon  is  this: 
"  Hier  eyndet  een  seer  goede  en  profitelike  leeringhe.  En  is  ghenoemt  der  ouder  vaders  col- 
lacien.    Michiel  hiller  van  Hoochstraten.      Tantwerpen  1506.  fol." 

Very  little  later  is  the  first  of  several  French  translations,  with  the  following  curious  title : 
"  Les  Collacions  des  sains  Peres  anciens  translateez  de  Grec  en  latin.  Par  Cassiodorus  tres 
sainct  docteur  en  theologie  et  translateez  de  latin  en  francoys  par  maistre  ieha  gosein  aussy 
docteur  en  theologie  de  l'ordre  des  freres  de  la  Montaigne  du  carme  et  imprimees  nouvelle- 
ment  a  paris."  No  date  is  given,  but  the  work  is  assigned  by  the  Museum  authorities  to  the 
year  15 10. 

Later  French  translations  are  the  following:  — 

Paris.  Chez  Charles  Savreux.  8°  les  Confe'rences  de  Cassien  traduites  en  francois  par 
De  Saligny.    1663.      (This  edition  altogether  omits  the  thirteenth  Conference.) 

Paris,  Chez  Charles  Savreux.  8°  les  Institutions  de  Cassien  traduites  en  francois  par 
De  Saligny.      1667. 

Institutions  de  Cassien  traduites  par  E.  Cartier.     Paris,  Tours,  1872. 

There  are  also  two  Italian  translations,  one  as  early  as  1563  (Opera.  Tradottaper  B.  Buffi. 
Venetia.  1563.  40),  and  one  of  the  present  century,  — Volgarizzamento  delle  collazioni  dei 
SS.  Padri  del  venerabile  G.  C.  [By  Bartolommeo  da  San  Concordio?]  Testo  di  lingua  in 
edito  [edited  by  T.  Bini].      Lucca.     1854.     8°. 

It  is  remarkable  that  England  has  till  now  stood  almost  alone  in  possessing  no  transla- 
tion, Cassian's  works  having  never  yet  appeared  in  an  English  press.  It  is  hoped  that  the 
version  now  offered  to  the  reader  may  do  something  to  make  the  works  of  this  interesting  and 
most  instructive  writer  more  widely  known  than  they  appear  to  be  at  present. 

1  The  edition  used  is  that  published  at  Leipsic  in  1733.     It  cannot,  however,  be  recommended,  as  it  is  full  of  misprints. 


PREFACE. 


The  history  of  the  Old  Testament  tells  us  that  the  most  wise  Solomon  received  from 
heaven  "wisdom  and  understanding  exceeding  much,  and  largeness  of  heart  even  as  the  sand 
that  is  on  the  seashore  that  cannot  be  counted;  "  1  so  that  by  the  Lord's  testimony  we  may  say 
that  no  one  either  has  arisen  in  time  past  equal  to  him  or  will  arise  after  him :   and  afterward, 
when  wishing  to  raise  that  magnificent  temple  to  the  Lord,  we  are  told  that  he  asked  the  help 
of  a  foreigner,  the  king  of  Tyre.     And  when  there  was  sent  to  him  one  Hiram,  the  son  of  a 
widow  woman,2  it  was  by  his  means  and  ministration  that  he  executed  all  the  glorious  things 
which  he  devised  by  the  suggestion  of  the  Divine  wisdom  either  for  the  temple  of  the  Lord  or 
for  the  sacred  vessels.      If,  then,  that  power  that  was  higher  than  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth, 
and  that  noble  and  illustrious  scion  of  the  race  of    Israel,  and  that  divinely  inspired  wisdom 
which  excelled  the  training   and  customs  of  all    the   Easterns  and  Egyptians,  by  no  means 
disdained  the  advice  of  a  poor  man  and  a  foreigner,  rightly  also  do  you,  most  blessed  Pope  8 
Castor,  taught  by  these  examples,  deign    to  call  in  me,  a  worthless  creature  though  I  am, 
and  in  every  respect  as  poor  as  possible,  to  a  share  in  so  great  a  work.     When  you  are  plan- 
ning to  build  a  true  and  reasonable    temple    for  God,  not  with  inanimate  stones  but  with  a 
congregation  of  saints,  and  no   temporal  or  corruptible  building,  but  one  that  is  eternal  and 
cannot  be  shaken;  and  desiring  also  to  consecrate  to  the  Lord  mcst  precious  vessels  not  forged 
of  dumb  4  metal,  of  gold  or  silver,  which  a  Babylonish  monarch  may  afterwards  take  and  devote 
to  the  pleasures  of  his  concubines  and  princes,5  but  fashioned  of  holy  souls  which  shine  with 
the  uprightness  of  innocence,  righteousness,    and  purity,  and  bear  about  Christ  abiding  in 
themselves    as  King;  —  since,  then,  you  are    anxious  that  the  institutions  of  the  East  and 
especially  of  Egypt  should  be  established  in  your  province,  which  is  at  present  without  mon- 
asteries,0 although  you  are  yourself  perfect  in  all  virtues  and  knowledge  and  so  filled  with  all 
spiritual  riches  that  not  only  your   talk  but    even  your  life  alone  is  amply  sufficient  for  an 
example  to  those  who  are  seeking  perfection,  — ■  yet  you  ask  me,  not  knowing  what  to  say,  and 
feeble  in  speech  and  knowledge,    to  contribute    something  from  the  scanty  supply  of  my 
thoughts  toward  the  satisfaction  of  your  desire;    and  you  charge  me  to  declare,  although  with 
inexpert  pen,  the  customs  of  the  monasteries  which  we  have  seen  observed  throughout  Egypt 
and  Palestine,  as  they  were  there  delivered    to  us  by  the  Fathers;  not  looking  for  graceful 
speech,  in  which  you  yourself  are  especially  skilled,  but  wanting  the  simple  life  of  holy  men  to 
be  told  in  simple  language  to  the  brethren    in  your  new  monastery.      But  in  proportion  as  a 
dutiful   desire  of  granting  your  request  urges  me    to  obey,  so  do  manifold  difficulties  and 
embarrassments  deter  me  when  wishing  to  comply.       First,  because  my  merits  are  not  so  pro- 
portioned to  my  age  as  .for  me  to   trust  that  I  can  worthily  comprehend  with  my  mind  and 
heart  matters  so  difficult,  so  obscure,  and  so  sacred.      Secondly,  because  that  which  we  either 
tried  to  do  or  learnt  or  saw  when  from  our  earliest  youth  we   lived  among  them  and  were 
urged  on  by  their  daily  exhortations  and  examples,  — this  we  can  scarcely  retain  in  its  entirety 
when  we  have  been  for  so  many  years   withdrawn   from   intercourse  with  them  and  from   fol- 
lowing their  mode  of  life;  especially  as  the  method  of  these  things  cannot  possibly  be  taught 
or  understood  or  kept  in  the  memory  by  idle  meditation  and  verbal  teaching,  for  it  depends 
entirely  "upon  experience  and  practice.     And,  as  these  things  cannot  be  taught  save  by  one 

1  Kings  iv.  29.  .  *  lb.  vii.  13. 

3  Papa..    The  title  was  at  an  early  period  confined  to  bishops  in  the  West,  but  was  not  limited  to  the  Bishop  of  Rome  till  a  later  date. 

4  Petschenig's  text  reads  muto.     Another  reading  is  multo. 
B  Cf.  Dan.  v.  2. 

6  Castor,  at  whose  request  this  work  was  written,  was  Bishop  of  Apta  Julia  in  Gallia  Narbonensis. 

199 


200  PREFACE. 

who  has  had  experience  of  them,  so  they  cannot  even  be  learnt  or  understood  except  by  one 
who  has  tried  with  equal  care  and  pains  to  grasp  them;  while,  unless  they  are  often  discussed 
and  well  worn  in  frequent  conferences  with  spiritual  men,  they  quickly  fade  away  through 
carelessness  of  mind.  Thirdly,  because  a  discourse  that  is  lacking  in  skill  cannot  properly 
expound  those  things  which  we  can' recall  to  mind,  not  as  the  things  themselves  deserve,  but 
as  our  condition  allows  us.  To  this  it  must  be  added  that  on  this  very  subject  men  who  were 
noble  in  life  and  eminent  for  speech  and  knowledge  have  already  put  forth  several  little  books, 
I  mean  Basil  and  Jerome,  and  some  others,  the  former  of  whom,  when  the  brethren  asked 
about  various  rules  and  questions,  replied  in  language  that  was  not  only  eloquent  but  rich  in 
testimonies  from  Holy  Scripture;  while  the  latter  not  only  published  works  that  were  the  off- 
spring of  his  own  genius,  but  also  translated  into  Latin  works  that  had  been  written  in  Greek.1 
And,  after  such  abundant  streams  of  eloquence,  I  might  not  unfairly  be  accused  of  presumption 
for  trying  to  produce  this  feeble  rill,  were  it  not  that  the  confidence  of  your  holiness  encour- 
aged me,  and  the  assurance  that  these  trifles  would  be  acceptable  to  you,  whatever  they  were 
like,  and  that  you  would  send  them  to  the  congregation  of  the  brethren  dwelling  in  your  newly 
founded  monastery.  And  if  by  chance  I  have  said  anything  without  sufficient  care,  may  they 
kindly  overlook  it  and  endure  it  with  a  somewhat  indulgent  pardon,  asking  rather  for  trust- 
worthiness of  speech  than  for  grace  of  style  on  my  part.  Wherefore,  most  blessed  Pope,  remark- 
able example  of  religion  and  humility,  encouraged  by  your  prayers,  I  will  to  the  best  of  my 
ability  approach  the  work  which  you  enjoin;  and  those  matters  which  were  altogether  left 
untouched  by  those  who  preceded  us,  since  they  endeavoured  to  describe  what  they  had  heard 
rather  than  what  they  had  experienced,  these  things  I  will  tell  as  to  an  inexperienced  mon- 
astery, and  to  men  who  are  indeed 2  athirst.  Nor  certainly  shall  I  try  to  weave  a  tale  of 
God's  miracles  and  signs,  although  we  have  not  only  heard  of  many  such  among  our  elders, 
and  those  past  belief,  but  have  also  seen  them  fulfilled  under  our  very  eyes;  yet,  leaving  out 
all  these  things  which  minister  to  the  reader  nothing  but  astonishment  and  no  instruction  in  the 
perfect  life,  I  shall  try,  so  far  as  I  can,  with  the  help  of  God,  faithfully  to  explain  only  their 
institutions  and  the  rules  of  their  monasteries,  and  especially  the  origin  and  causes  of  the 
principal  faults,  of  which  they  reckon  eight,  and  the  remedies  for  them  according  to  their 
traditions,  — since  my  purpose  is  to  say  a  few  words  not  about  God's  miracles,  but  about  the 
way  to  improve  our  character,  and  the  attainment  of  the  perfect  life,  in  accordance  with  that 
which  we  received  from  our  elders.  In  this,  too,  I  will  try  to  satisfy  your  directions,  so  that, 
if  I  happen  to  find  that  anything  has  been  either  withdrawn  or  added  in  those  countries  not 
in  accordance  with  the  example  of  the  elders  established  by  ancient  custom,  but  according 
to  the  fancy  of  any  one  who  has  founded  a  monastery,  I  will  faithfully  add  it  or  omit  it,  in 
accordance  with  the  rule  which  I  have  seen  followed  in  the  monasteries  anciently  founded 
throughout  Egypt  and  Palestine,  as  I  do  not  believe  that  a  new  establishment  in  the  West,  in 
the  parts  of  Gaul  could  find  anything  more  reasonable  or  more  perfect  than  are  those  customs, 
in  the  observance  of  which  the  monasteries  that  have  been  founded  by  holy  and  spiritually 
minded  fathers  since  the  rise  of  apostolic  preaching  endure  even  to  our  own  times.  I  shall, 
however,  venture  to  exercise  this  discretion  in  my  work,  —  that  where  I  find  anything  in  the 
rule  of  the  Egyptians  which,  either  because  of  the  severity  of  the  climate,  or  owing  to  some 
difficulty  or  diversity  of  habits,  is  impossible  in  these  countries,  or  hard  and  difficult,  I  shall 
to  some  extent  balance  it  by  the  customs  of  the  monasteries  which  are  found  throughout 
Pontus  and  Mesopotamia;  because,  if  due  regard  be  paid  to  what  things  are  possible,  there 
is  the  same  perfection  in  the  observance  although  the  power  may  be  unequal. 

1  The  reference  is  to  Basil's  opoi  icari  n-AaTo;  (the  greater  monastic  rules),  and  Spot  Kara  e7rc.TOfi»ii'  (the  lesser  rules),  written  in  the  form 
of  answers  to  questions  of  the  monks.  Jerome  translated  the  rule  of  Pachomius,  besides  writing  the  lives  of  the  hermits  Paul,  Malchus, 
and  Hilarion. 

2  in  veritate.     Another  reading  is  veritatem. 


THE   TWELVE   BOOKS   OF  JOHN   CASSIAN 


INSTITUTES   OF   THE  COENOBIA, 


AND   THE 


REMEDIES   FOR   THE   EIGHT   PRINCIPAL   FAULTS. 


BOOK    I. 


OF    THE    DRESS    OF    THE    MONKS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Of  the  Monk's  Girdle. 


As  we  are  going  to  speak  of  the  customs  and 
rules  of  the  monasteries,  how  by  God's  grace 
can  we  better  begin  than  with  the  actual  dress 
of  the  monks,  for  we  shall  then  be  able  to  ex- 
pound in  due  course  their  interior  life  when  we 
have  set  their  outward  man  before  your  eyes. 
A  monk,  then,  as  a  soldier  of  Christ  ever  ready 
for  battle,  ought  always  to  walk  with  his  loins 
girded.  For  in  this  fashion,  too,  the  authority 
of  Holy  Scripture  shows  that  they  walked  who 
in  the  Old  Testament  started  the  original  of 
this  life, — I  mean  Elijah  and  Elisha;  and, 
moreover,  we  know  that  the  leaders  and  auth- 
ors of  the  New  Testament,  viz.,  John,  Peter, 
and  Paul,  and  the  others  of  the  same  rank, 
walked  in  the  same  manner.  And  of  these 
the  first-mentioned,  who  even  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament displayed  the  flowers  of  a  virgin  life 
and  an  example  of  chastity  and  continence, 
when  he  had  been  sent  by  the  Lord  to  rebuke 
the  messengers  of  Ahaziah,  the  wicked  king  of 
Israel,  because  when  confined  by  sickness  he 
had  intended  to  consult  Beelzebub,  the  god  of 
Ekron,  on  the  state  of  his  health,  and  there- 
upon the  said  prophet  had  met  them  and  said 
that  he  should  not  come  down  from  the  bed 
on  which  he  lay,  —  this  man  was  made  known 
to  the  bed-ridden  king  by  the  description  of 
the  character  of  his  clothing.     For  when  the 


1  Cf.  Basil's  Greater  Monastic  Rules,  Q.  xxii.,  from  which  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  this  chapter  is  taken. 


messengers  returned  to  him  and  brought  back 
the  prophet's  message,  he  asked  what  the  man 
who  had  met  them  and  spoken  such  words  was 
like  and  how  he  was  dressed.  "  An  hairy  man," 
they  said,  "  and  girt  with  a  girdle  of  leather 
about  his  loins;"  and  by  this  dress  the  king 
at  once  saw  that  it  was  the  man  of  God,  and 
said:  "It  is  Elijah  the  Tishbite:"1  i.e.,  by 
the  evidence  of  the  girdle  and  the  look  of  the 
hairy  and  unkempt  body  he  recognized  with- 
out the  slightest  doubt  the  man  of  God,  be- 
cause this  was  always  attached  to  him  as  he 
dwelt  among  so  many  thousands  of  Israelites, 
as  if  it  were  impressed  as  some  special  sign  of 
his  own  particular  style.  Of  John  also,  who 
came  as  a  sort  of  sacred  boundary  between  the 
Old  and  New  Testament,  being  both  a  begin- 
ning and  an  ending,  we  know  by  the  testimony 
of  the  Evangelist  that  "the  same  John  had  his 
raiment  of  camel's  hair  and  a  girdle  of  skin 
about  his  loins."  2  When  Peter  also  had  been 
put  in  prison  by  Herod  and  was  to  be  brought 
forth  to  be  slain  on  the  next  day,  when  the 
angel  stood  by  him  he  was  charged :  "  Gird 
thyself  and  put  on  thy  shoes."  3  And  the  angel 
of  the  Lord  would  certainly  not  have  charged 
him  to  do  this  had  he  not  seen  that  for  the  sake 
of  his  night's  rest  he  had  for  a  while  freed  his 
wearied  limbs  from  the  girdle  usually  tied 
round  them.  Paul  also,  going  up  to  Jerusalem 
and  soon  to  be  put  in  chains  by  the  Jews,  was 
met  at  Cassarea  by  the  prophet  Agabus,  who 
took  his  girdle  and  bound  his  hands  and  feet 


1  2  Kings  i,  i.-S. 


2  S.  Matt.  iii.  4. 


s  Acts  xii.  8. 


202 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


to  show  by  his  bodily  actions  the  injuries  which 
he  was  to  suffer,  and  said:  "  So  shall  the  Jews 
in  Jerusalem  bind  the  man  whose  girdle  this  is, 
and  deliver  him  into  the  hands  of  the  Gen- 
tiles." x  And  surely  the  prophet  would  never 
have  brought  this  forward,  or  have  said  "  the 
man  whose  girdle  this  is,"  unless  Paul  had 
always  been  accustomed  to  fasten  it  round  his 
loins. 

CHAPTER  II. 

Of  the  Monk's  Robe. 

Let  the  robe  also  of  the  monk  be  such  as 
may  merely  cover  the  body  and  prevent  the 
disgrace  of  nudity,  and  keep  off  harm  from 
cold,  not  such  as  may  foster  the  seeds  of  vanity 
and  pride ;  for  the  same  apostle  tells  us :  "  Hav- 
ing food  and  covering,  with  these  let  us  be  con- 
tent." 2  "Covering,"  he  says,  not  "raiment," 
as  is  wrongly  found  in  some  Latin  copies : 
that  is,  what  may  merely  cover  the  body,  not 
what  may  please  the  fancy  by  the  splendour  of 
the  attire ;  commonplace,  so  that  it  may  not  be 
thought  remarkable  for  novelty  of  colour  or 
fashion  among  other  men  of  the  same  profes- 
sion ;  and  quite  free  from  anxious  carefulness, 
yet  not  discoloured  by  stains  acquired  through 
neglect.  Lastly,  let  them  be  so  far  removed 
from  this  world's  fashions  as  to  remain  alto- 
gether common  property  for  the  use  of  the 
servants  of  God.  For  whatever  is  claimed  by 
one  or  a  few  among  the  servants  of  God  and  is 
not  the  common  property  of  the  whole  body  of 
the  brethren  alike  is  either  superfluous  or  vain, 
and  for  that  reason  to  be  considered  harmful, 
and  affording  an  appearance  of  vanity  rather 
than  virtue.  And,  therefore,  whatever  models 
we  see  were  not  taught  either  by  the  saints  of 
old  who  laid  the  foundations  of  the  monastic 
life,  or  by  the  fathers  of  our  own  time  who  in 
their  turn  keep  up  at  the  present  day  their 
customs,  these  we  also  should  reject  as  super- 
fluous and  useless :  wherefore  they  utterly  dis- 
approved of  a  robe  of  sackcloth  as  being 
visible  to  all  and  conspicuous,  and  what  from 
this  very  fact  will  not  only  confer  no  benefit 
on  the  soul  but  rather  minister  to  vanity  and 
pride,  and  as  being  inconvenient  and  unsuit- 
able for  the  performance  of  necessary  work  for 
which  a  monk  ought  always  to  go  ready  and 
unimpeded.  But  even  if  we  hear  of  some  re- 
spectable persons  who  have  been  dressed  in 


1  Acts  xxi.  ii. 

2  i  Tim.  vi.  8.  The  Greek  is  crK^rrda-ixaTa,  for  which  Jerome's 
version  has  "  quibus  tegamur."  Sabbatier  gives  "victumet  vesti- 
tum "  as  the  rendering  of  the  old  Latin,  but  it  is  often  quoted  as 
"  victus  et  tegumentum  "  by  Augustine.  "  Alimenta  et  openmenta  " 
must  be  Cassian's  own  rendering  from  the  Greek.  "  Vestimenta," 
which  he  speaks  of  as  being  found  in  some  Latin  copies,  is  not  given 
by  Sabbatier  at  all,  though  Jerome  quotes  the  text  with  "  vestimen- 
tum  "  in  Ep.  ad  Titum,  III. 


this  garb,  a  rule  for  the  monasteries  is  not, 
therefore,  to  be  passed  by  us,  nor  should  the 
ancient  decrees  of  the  holy  fathers  be  upset 
because  we  do  not  think  that  a  few  men,  pre- 
suming on  the  possession  of  other  virtues,  are 
to  be  blamed  even  in  regard  of  those  things 
which  they  have- practised  not  in  accordance 
with  the  Catholic  rule.  For  the  opinion  of  a 
few  ought  not  to  be  preferred  to  or  to  interfere 
with  the  general  rule  for  all.  For  we  ought 
to  give  unhesitating  allegiance  and  unques- 
tioning obedience,  not  to  those  customs  and 
rules  which  the  will  of  a  few  have  intro- 
duced, but  to  those  which  a  long  standing 
antiquity  and  numbers  of  the  holy  fathers  have 
passed  on  by  an  unanimous  decision  to  those 
that  come  after.  Nor,  indeed,  ought  this  to 
influence  us  as  a  precedent  for  our  daily  life, 
that  Joram,  the  wicked  king  of  Israel,  when 
surrounded  by  bands  of  his  foes,  rent  his 
clothes,  and  is  said  to  have  had  sackcloth  in- 
side them;3  or  that  the  Ninevites,  in  order  to 
mitigate  the  sentence  of  God,  which  had  been 
pronounced  against  them  by  the  prophet,  were 
clothed  in  rough  sackcloth.4  The  former  is 
shown  to  have  been  clothed  with  it  secretly 
underneath,  so  that  unless  the  upper  garment 
had  been  rent  it  could  not  possibly  have  been 
known  by  any  one,  and  the  latter  tolerated  a 
covering  of  sackcloth  at  a  time  when,  since  all 
were  mourning  over  the  approaching  destruc- 
tion of  the  city  and  were  clothed  with  the  same 
garments,  none  could  be  accused  of  ostenta- 
tion. For  where  there  is  no  special  difference 
and  all  are  alike  no  harm  is  done.5 


CHAPTER  III. 

Of  the  Hoods  of  the  Egyptians. 

There  are  some  things  besides  in  the  dress 
of  the  Egyptians  which  concern  not  the  care 
of  the  body  so  much  as  the  regulation  of  the 
character,  that  the  observance  of  simplicity  and 
innocence  may  be  preserved  by  the  very  char- 
acter of  the  clothing.  For  they  constantly  use 
both  by  day  and  by  night  very  small  hoods 
coming  down  to  the  end  of  the  neck  and 
shoulders,  which  only  cover  the  head,  in  order 
that  they  may  constantly  be  moved  to  pre- 
serve the  simplicity  and  innocence  of  little 
children  by  imitating  their  actual  dress.6    And 


3  2  Kings  vi.  30.  4  Jonah  iii.  8. 

5  Quia  nisi  insolens  sit  diversitas,  non  offendit  asqualitas  (Petsche- 
nig).     The  text  of  Gazasus  has  inoequalitas. 

6  The  hood,  or  cowl  (cuculla),  was  anciently  worn  by  children  and 
peasants,  and  thus  was  said  to  symbolize  humility.  Compare  the 
account  of  the  Egyptian  monks  given  by  Sozomen,  Hist.  III.  xiv.: 
"  They  wore  a  covering  on  their  heads  called  a  cowl,  to  show  that 
they  ought  to  live  with  the  same  innocence  and  purity  as  infants  who 
are  nourished  with  milk  and  wear  a  covering  of  the  same  form." 


BOOK   I. 


203 


these  men  have  returned  to  childhood  in  Christ 
and  sir.g  at  all  hours  with  heart  and  soul: 
•'Lord,  my  heart  is  not  exalted  nor  are  mine 
eyes  lofty.  Neither  have  I  walked  in  great 
matters  nor  in  wonderful  things  above  me.  If 
I  was  not  humbly  minded,  but  exalted  my 
soul :  as  a  child  that  is  weaned  is  towards  his 
mother."1 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Of  the  Tunics  of  the  Egyptians. 

They  wear  also  linen  tunics 2  which  scarcely 
reach  to  the  elbows,  and  for  the  rest  leave  their 
hands  bare,  that  the  cutting  off  of  the  sleeves 
may  suggest  that  they  have  cut  off  all  the  deeds 
and  works  of  this  world,  and  the  garment  of 
linen  teach  that  they  are  dead  to  all  earthly 
conversation,  and  that  hereby  they  may  hear 
the  Apostle  saying  day  by  day  to  them :  "  Mor- 
tify your  members  which  are  upon  the  earth ;" 
their  very  dress  also  declaring  this:  "For  ye 
are  dead,  and  your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in 
God;"  and  again:  "And  I  live,  yet  now  not  I 
but  Christ  liveth  in  me.  To  me  indeed  the 
world  is  crucified,  and  I  to  the  world."  3 


CHAPTER  V. 

Of  their  Cords.4 

They  also  wear  double  scarves  5  woven  of 
woollen  yarn  which  the  Greeks  call  bvaluBoi, 
but  which  we  should  name  girdles  6  or  strings,7 
or  more  properly  cords.8  These  falling  down 
over  the  top  of  the  neck  and  divided  on  either 
side  of  the  throat  go  round  the  folds  (of  the 
robe)  at  the  armpits  and  gather  them  up  on 
either  side,  so  that  they  can  draw  up  and  tuck 
in  close  to  the  body  the  wide  folds  of  the  dress, 
and  so  with  their  arms  girt  they  are  made  active 
and  ready  for  all  kinds  of  work,  endeavouring 
with  all  their  might  to  fulfil  the  Apostle's 
charge :  "  For  these  hands  have  ministered  not 
only  to  me  but  to  those  also  who  are  with  me," 
"Neither  have  we  eaten  any  man's  bread  for 


1  Ps.  cxxx.  (cxxxi.)  i,  2. 

2  Colobium  (koA60ioi'),  a  tunic  with  very  short  sleeves.  Cf.  Doro- 
theus  (Migne,  Patrol.  Gra:ca  lxxxviii.  163 1).  To  axyv-a  °  4>opoiip.ev 
KoiVo/3ioi'  eo-rt,  /U.T)  e\ov  \eipiSia,  kcu  £Jjvti  Sep^arivq  ko.1  c.va.Xaflo'; 
Ka\  kovkov\lov. 

3  Col.  iii.  5,  3.  Gal.  ii.  20;  vi.  14.  Cf.  Sozomen  1.  c.  :  "They 
wore  their  tunics  without  sleeves  in  order  to  teach  that  the  hands 
ought  not  to  be  ready  to  do  evil." 

*  Rebracchiatoria.  The  whole  passage  is  somewhat  obscure,  and 
the  various  synonyms  do  not  help  us  much  in  the  elucidation  of  it. 
AvdAapot.  is  given  in  Petschenig's  text,  but  dvafioAdi  has  some  MS. 
authority.  'AvafSokev;  is  the  word  used  by  Sozomen,  who  also  men- 
tions this  cord.  "  Their  girdle  also  and  cord,  the  former  girding  the 
loins,  the  latter  going  round  the  shoulders  and  arms,  admonish  them 
that  they  ought  always  to  be  ready  for  the  service  of  God  and  their 
work." 

6  Resticuhe.  c  Succinctoria. 

7  Redimicula.  8  Rebracchiatoria. 


nought,  but  with  labour  and  toil  working  night 
and  day  that  we  should  not  be  burdensome  to 
any  of  you."  And:  "If  any  will  not  work 
neither  let  him  eat."9 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Of  their  Capes.10 

Next  they  cover  their  necks  and  shoulders 
with  a  narrow  cape,  aiming  at  modesty  of  dress 
as  well  as  cheapness  and  economy;  and  this 
is  called  in  our  language  as  well  as  theirs 
mafors\  and  so  they  avoid  both  the  expense 
and  the  display  of  cloaks  and  great  coats. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Of  the  Sheepskin  and  the  Goatskin. U 

The  last  article  of  their  dress  is  the  goat- 
skin, wnich  is  called  melotes,  or  pera,12  and  a 
staff,  which  they  carry  in  imitation  of  those 
who  foreshadowed  the  lines  of  the  monastic 
life  in  the  Old  Testament,  of  whom  the  Apostle 
says:  "They  wandered  about  in  sheepskins 
and  goatskins,  being  in  want,  distressed,  af- 
flicted; of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy; 
wandering  in  deserts,  and  in  mountains,  and 
in  dens,  and  in  caves  of  the  earth."  13  And  this 
garment  of  goatskin  signifies  that  having  de- 
stroyed all  wantonness  of  carnal  passions  they 
ought  to  continue  in  the  utmost  sobriety  of 
virtue,  and  that  nothing  of  the  wantonness  or 
heat  of  youth,  or  of  their  old  lightmindedness, 
should  remain  in  their  bodies. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Of  the  Staff  of  the  Egyptians. 

For  Elisha,  himself  one  of  them,  teaches 
that  the  same  men  used  to  carry  a  staff;  as  he 
says  to  Gehazi,  his  servant,  when  sending  him 
to  raise  the  woman's  son  to  life:  "Take  my 
staff  and  run  and  go  and  place  it  on  the  lad's 
face  that  he  may  live."  M    And  the  prophet 


9  Acts  xx.  34;  2  Thess.  iii.  8,  10 

10  The  mafors  (  /xa^uipiov  or  p.a<t>6pLov)  is  the  monkish  scapular, 
or  working-dress.  Cf.  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict,  c.  55  :  "  Scapulare 
propter  opera."     In  form  it  was  a  large,  coarse  cape,  or  hood. 

11  The  melotes  (^tjAojtiJs),  a  sheepskin  garment  hanging  down  on 
one  side,  was  the  usual  dress  of  monks.  S.  Anthony  bequeathed  his, 
at  his  death,  to  S.  Athanasius.     Ath.  Vita  Anton,  91. 

12  Pera  can  hardly  be  used  here  in  its  ordinary  sense  of  scrip  or  wallet 
n-Tjpa.  Gazsus  suggests  that  it  may  be  a  transcriber's  error  for  pce- 
nula,  while  Ducange  would  read,  "  qua?  melotes  appellatur,  vel  pera, 
et  baculus."  Mr.  Sinker,  in  the  Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiqui- 
ties (Vol.  II.  p.  1619),  suggests  that  possibly  the  word  may  be  Egyp- 
tian. 

13  Heb.  xi.  37,  38. 

14  2  Kings  iv.  29. 


204 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN   CASSIAN. 


would  certainly  not  have  given  it  to  him  to 
take  unless  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  con- 
stantly carrying  it  about  in  his  hand.  And  the 
carrying  of  the  staff  spiritually  teaches  that 
they  ought  never  to  walk  unarmed  among  so 
many  barking  dogs  of  faults  and  invisible 
beasts  of  spiritual  wickedness  (from  which  the 
blessed  David,  in  his  longing  to  be  free,  says: 
''Deliver  not,  O  Lord,  to  the  beasts  the  soul 
that  trusteth  in  Thee"),1  but  when  they  attack 
them  they  ought  to  beat  them  off  with  the  sign 
of  the  cross  and  drive  them-  far  away;  and 
when  the)''  rage  furiously  against  them  they 
should  annihilate  them  by  the  constant  recol- 
lection of  the  Lord's  passion  and  by  follow- 
ing the  example  of  His  mortified  life. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Of  their  Shoes. 

But  refusing  shoes,  as  forbidden  by  the 
command  of  the  gospel,  if  bodily  weakness  or 
the  morning  cold  in  winter  or  the  scorching 
heat  of  midday  compels  them,  they  merely 
protect  their  feet  with  sandals,  explaining  that 
by  the  use  of  them  and  the  Lord's  permission 
it  is  implied  that  if,  while  we  are  still  in  this 
world  we  cannot  be  completely  set  free  from 
care  and  anxiety  about  the  flesh,  nor  can  we  be 
altogether  released  from  it,  we  should  at  least 
provide  for  the  wants  of  the  body  with  as  little 
fuss  and  as  slight  an  entanglement  as  possible : 
and  as  for  the  feet  of  our  soul  which  ought  to 
be  ready  for  our  spiritual  race  and  always 
prepared  for  preaching  the  peace  of  the  gos- 
pel (with  which  feet  we  run  after  the  odour  of 
the  ointments  of  Christ,  and  of  which  David 
says:  "I  ran  in  thirst,"  and  Jeremiah:  "But  I 
am  not  troubled,  following  Thee"),2  we  ought 
not  to  suffer  them  to  be  entangled  in  the  deadly 
cares  of  this  world,  filling  our  thoughts  with 
those  things  which  concern  not  the  supply  of 
the  wants  of  nature,  but  unnecessary  and  harm- 
ful pleasures.  And  this  we  shall  thus  fulfil 
if,  as  the  Apostle  advises,  we  "make  not  pro- 
vision for  the  flesh  with  its  lusts."3  But 
though  lawfully  enough  they  make  use  of  these 
sandals,  as  permitted  by  the  Lord's  command, 
yet  they  never  suffer  them  to  remain  on  their 
feet  when  they  approach  to  celebrate  or  to 
receive  the  holy  mysteries,  as  they  think  that 
they  ought  to  observe  in  the  letter  that  which 
was  said  to  Moses  and  to  Joshua,  the  son  of 
Nun :  "  Loose  the  latchet  of  thy  shoe :  for  the 
place  whereon  thou  standest  is  holy  ground. "  4 


1  Ps.  lxxiii.  (lxxiv.)  19.    ' 

2  Ps.  lxi.  (lxii.)  5  ;  Jer.  xvii.  16  (lxx.). 
8   Rom.  xiii.  14. 

4  Exod.  iii.  5  ;  Josh.  v.  16. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Of  the  modification  in  the  observances  which  may  be  per- 
mitted in  accordance  with  the  character  of  the  climate  or  the 
custom  of  the  district. 

So  much  may  be  said,  that  we  may  not  ap- 
pear to  have  left  out  any  article  of  the  dress 
of  the  Egyptians.  But  we  need  only  keep  to 
those  which  the  situation  of  the  place  and  the 
customs  of  the  district  permit.  For  the  severity 
of  the  winter  does  not  allow  us  to  be  satisfied 
with  slippers  6  or  tunics  or  a  single  frock;  and 
the  covering  of  tiny  hoods  or  the  wearing  of  a 
sheepskin  would  afford  a  subject  for  derision 
instead  of  edifying  the  spectators.  Wherefore 
we  hold  that  we  ought  to  introduce  only  those 
things  which  we  have  described  above,  and 
which  are  adapted  to  the  humble  character  of 
our  profession  and  the  nature  of  the  climate, 
that  the  chief  thing  about  our  dress  maybe  not 
the  novelty  of  the  garb,  which  might  give  some 
offence  to  men  of  the  world,  but  its  honourable 
simplicity. 

CHAPTER  XL 

Of  the  Spiritual  Girdle  and  its  Mystical  Meaning.7 

Clad,  therefore,  in  these  vestments,  the  sol- 
dier of  Christ  should  know  first  of  all  that  he 
is  protected  by  the  girdle  tied  round  him,  not 
only  that  he  may  be  ready  in  mind  for  all  the 
work  and  business  of  the  monastery,  but  also 
that  he  may  always  go  without  being  hindered 
by  his  dress.  For  he  will  be  proved  to  be  the 
more  ardent  in  purity  of  heart  for  spiritual 
progress  and  the  knowledge  of  Divine  things 
in  proportion  as  he  is  the  more  earnest  in  his 
zeal  for  obedience  and  work.  Secondly,  he 
should  realize  that  in  the  actual  wearing  of. the 
girdle  there  is  no  small  mystery  declaring 
what  is  demanded  of  him.  For  the  girding  of 
the  loins  and  binding  them  round  with  a  dead 
skin  signifies  that  he  bears  about  the  mortifi- 
cation of  those  members  in  which  are  contained 
the  seeds  of  lust  and  lasciviousness,  always 
knowing  that  the  command  of  the  gospel,  which 
says,  "  Let  your  loins  be  girt  abou*p'&  is  applied 
to  him  by  the  Apostle's  interpretation;  to  wit, 
"  Mortify  your  members  which  are  upon  the 
earth;  fornication,  uncleanness,  lust,  evil  con- 
cupiscence."9 And  so  we  find  in  Holy  Scrip- 
ture that  only  those  were  girt  with  the  girdle 
in  whom  the  seeds  of  carnal  lust  are  found  to 


5  This  and  the   following  chapter  are  altogether  omitted  in  the 
edition  of  Gaz:eus. 

6  Gallica. 

7  Sacramentum. 

8  S.  Luke  xii.  35. 
8  Col.  iii.  5. 


I 


BOOK   II. 


205 


be  destroyed,  and  who  sing  with  might  and 
main  this  utterance  of  the  blessed  David :  "  For 
I  am  become  like  a  bottle  in  the  frost,"  l  be- 
cause when  the  sinful  flesh  is  destroyed  in  the 
inmost  parts  they  can  distend  by  the  power  of 
the  spirit  the  dead  skin  of  the  outward  man. 
And  therefore  he  significantly  adds  "in  the 
frost,"  because  they  are  never  satisfied  merely 
with  the  mortification  of  the  heart,  but  also 
have  the  motions  of  the  outward  man  and  the 
incentives  of  nature  itself  frozen  by  the  ap- 

1  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  S3. 


proach  of  the  frost  of  continence  from  without, 
if  only,  as,  the  Apostle  says,  they  no  longer 
allow  any  reign  of  sin  in  their  mortal  body, 
nor  wear  a  flesh  that  resists  the  spirit."  2 


2  Cf.  Rom.  vi.  12  ;  Gal.  v.  17.  S.  Benedict's  rule  about  the  dress 
of  the  monks  is  as  follows  :  "  Let  the  dress  of  the  brethren  be  adapted 
to  the  character  of  the  place  or  climate  in  which  they  live,  as  more 
clothing  is  required  in  cold  than  in  hot  countries.  Hence  we  leave 
this  to  the  abbot  to  determine.  However,  in  temperate  climates  we 
are  of  opinion  that  it  will  be  enough  for  each  monk  to  have  a  hood 
and  a  frock,  a  rough  one  for  the  winter,  and  in  the  summer  a  simple 
or  old  one ;  a  scapular  also  for  work ;  and  the  covering  of  the  feet, 
shoes  and  socks.  And  the  monks  are  not  to  complain  of  the  colour 
or  size  of  these  articles,  but  to  be  satisfied  with  whatever  can  be  found 
or  got  cheapest  in  the  country  where  they  live."      Regula  S.  Bened. 


BOOK   II. 

OF  THE    CANONICAL    SYSTEM  OF  THE   NOCTURNAL 
PRAYERS  AND   PSALMS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

Of  the  Canonical  System  of  the  Nocturnal  Prayers  and  Psalms. 

Girt,  therefore,  with  this  twofold  girdle  of 
which  we  have  spoken,3  the  soldier  of  Christ 
should  next  learn  the  system  of  the  canonical 
prayers  and  Psalms  which  was  long  ago  ar- 
ranged by  the  holy  fathers  in  the  East.  Of 
their  character,  however,  and  of  the  way  in 
which  we  can  pray,  as  the  Apostle  directs, 
"without  ceasing,"  4  we  shall  treat,  as  the  Lord 
may  enable  us,  in  the  proper  place,  when  we 
begin  to  relate  the  Conferences  of  the  Elders. 

CHAPTER  II. 

Of  the  difference  of  the  number  of  Psalms  appointed  to  be 
sung  in  all  the  provinces. 

For  we  have  found  that  many  in  different 
countries,  according  to  the  fancy  of  their  mind 
(having,  indeed,  as  the  Apostle  says,  "  a  zeal 
for  God  but  not  according  to  knowledge"  5), 
have  made  for  themselves  different  rules  and 
arrangements  in  this  matter.  For  some  have 
appointed  that  each  night  twenty  or  thirty 
Psalms  should  be  said,  and  that  these  should 
be  prolonged  by  the  music  of  antiphonal  sing- 
ing,6 and  by  the  addition  of  some  modulations 


s  See  Book  I.  c.  xi. 

4  1  Thess.  v.  17. 

c  Rom.  x.  2. 

6  Antiphona.  In  this  passage  the  word  appears  to  mean  the  act- 
ual Psalms  sung  antiphonally,  rather  than  what  is  generally  meant  in 
later  writings  by  the  term.  Cf.  the  Rule  of  Aurelian,  "Dicite  ma- 
tutinarios,  i.e.,  primo  canticum  in  antiphona,  deinde  directaneum, 
judica  me  Deus  ...  in  antiphona  dicite  hymnum,  splendor  pa- 
tuds  gloria."  And  see  the  use  of  the  word  later  on  by  Cassian  him- 
self, c.  vii. 


as  well.  Others  have  even  tried  to  go  beyond 
this  number.  Some  use  eighteen.  And  in 
this  way  we  have  found  different  rules  ap- 
pointed in  different  places,  and  the  system 
and  regulations  that  we  have  seen  are  almost 
as  many  in  number  as  the  monasteries  and 
cells  which  we  have  visited.  There  are  some, 
too,  to  whom  it  has  seemed  good  that  in  the 
day  offices  of  prayer,  viz.,  Tierce,  Sext,  and 
Nones,7  the  number  of  Psalms  and  prayers 
should  be  made  to  correspond  exactly  to  the 
number  of  the  hours  at  which  the  services  are 
offered  up  to  the  Lord.8  Some  have  thought 
fit  that  six  Psalms  Should  be  assigned  to  each 
service  of  the  day.  And  so  I  think  it  best  to 
set  forth  the  most  ancient  system  of  the  fathers 
which  is  still  observed  by  the  servants  of  God 
throughout  the  whole  of  Egypt,  so  that  your 
new  monastery  in  its  untrained  infancy  in 
Christ  9  may  be  instructed  in  the  most  ancient 
institutions  of  the  earliest  fathers. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Of  the  observance  of  one  uniform  rule  throughout  the  whole 
of  Egypt,  and  of  the  election  of  those  who  are  set  over  the 
brethren. 

And  so  throughout  the  whole  of  Egypt  and 
the  Thebaid,  where  monasteries  are  not  found- 
ed at  the  fancy  of  every  man  who  renounces 


7  The  third,  sixth,  and  ninth  hours  were  observed  as  hours  of 
prayer  from  the  earliest  days.  Cf.  Tertullian  De  Oratione,  c.  25  ; 
Clem.  Alex.  Stromata,  VII.,  c.  7,  §  40. 

8  I.e.,  that  at  Tierce  there  should  be  three  Psalms,  at  Sext  six, 
and  at  Nones  nine. 

9  Castor  had  founded  a  monastery  about  the  year  420. 


206 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


the  world,  but  through  a  succession  of  fathers 
and  their  traditions  last  even  to  the  present 
day,  or  are  founded  so  to  last,  in  these  we  have 
noticed  that  a  prescribed  system  of  prayers  is 
observed  in  their  evening  assemblies  and  noc- 
turnal vigils.  For  no  one  is  allowed  to  preside 
over  the  assembly  of  the  brethren,  or  even  over 
himself,  before  he  has  not  only  deprived  him- 
self of  all  his  property  but  has  also  learnt  the 
fact  that  he  is  not  his  own  maker  and  has  no 
authority  over  his  own  actions.  For  one  who 
renounces  the  world,  whatever  property  or 
riches  he  may  possess,  must  seek  the  common 
dwelling  of  a  Coenobium,  that  he  may  not 
flatter  himself  in  any  way  with  what  he  has 
forsaken  or  what  he  has  brought  into  the  mon- 
astery. He  must  also  be  obedient  to  all,  so  as 
to  learn  that  he  must,  as  the  Lord  says, l  be- 
come again  a  little  child,  arrogating  nothing  to 
himself  on  the  score  of  his  age  and  the  number 
of  the  years  which  he  now  counts  as  lost  while 
they  were  spent  to  no  purpose  in  the  world ; 
and,  as  he  is  only  a  beginner,  and  because 
of  the  novelty  of  the  apprenticeship,  which  he 
knows  he  is  serving  in  Christ's  service,  he 
should  not  hesitate  to  submit  himself  even  to 
his  juniors.  Further,  he  is  obliged  to  habit- 
uate himself  to  work  and  toil,  so  as  to  prepare 
with  his  own  hands,  in  accordance  with  the 
Apostle's  command,2  a  daily  supply  of  food, 
either  for  his  own  use  or  for  the  wants  of 
strangers ;  and  that  he  may  also  forget  the  pride 
and  luxury  of  his  past  life,  and  gain  by  grind- 
ing toil  humility  of  heart.  And  so  no  one  is 
chosen  to  be  set  over  a  congregation  of  breth- 
ren before  that  he  who  is  to  be  placed  in  author- 
ity has  learnt  by  obedience  what  he  ought  to 
enjoin  on  those  who  are  to  submit  to  him,  and 
has  discovered  from  the  rules  of  the  Elders 
what  he  ought  to  teach  to  his  juniors.  For 
they  say  that  to  rule  or  to  be  ruled  well  needs 
a  wise  man,  and  they  call  it  the  greatest  gift 
and  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  since  no  one 
can  enjoin  salutary  precepts  on  those  who 
submit  to  him  but  one  who  has  previously 
been  trained  in  all  the  rules  of  virtue;  nor  can 
any  one  obey  an  Elder  but  one  who  has  been 
filled  with  the  love  of  God  and  perfected  in 
the  virtue  of  humility.  And  so  we  see  that 
there  is  a  variety  of  rules  and  regulations  in 
use  throughout  other  districts,  because  we 
often  have  the  audacity  to  preside  over  a  mon- 
astery without  even  having  learnt  the  system 
of  the  Elders,  and  appoint  ourselves  Abbots 
before  we  have,  as  we  ought,  professed  our- 
selves disciples,  and  are  readier  to  require  the 
observance  of  our  own  inventions  than  to  pre- 
serve the  well-tried  teaching  of  our  predeces- 

1  Cf.  S.  Matt,  xviii.  3. 
-  Cf.  1  Thess.  iv.  11. 


sors.  But,  while  we  meant  to  explain  the  best 
system  of  prayers  to  be  observed,  we  have  in 
our  eagerness  for  the  institutions  of  the  fathers 
anticipated  by  a  hasty  digression  the  account 
which  we  were  keeping  back  for  its  proper 
place.  And  so  let  us  now  return  to  the  subject 
before  us. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

How  throughout  the  whole  of  Egypt  and  the  Thebaid  the 
number  of  Psalms  is  fixed  at  twelve. 

So,  as  we  said,  throughout  the  whole  of 
Egypt  and  the  Thebaid  the  number  of  Psalms 
is  fixed  at  twelvefboth  at  Vespers  and  in  the 
office  of  Nocturns,3  in  such  a  way  that  at  the 
close  two  lessons  follow,  one  from  the  Old  and 
the  other  from  the  New  Testament.4  And  this 
arrangement,  fixed  ever  so  long  ago,  has  con- 
tinued unbroken  to  the  present  day  throughout 
so  many  ages,  in  all  the  monasteries  of  those 
districts,  because  it  is  said  that  it  was  no  ap- 
pointment of  man's  invention,  but  was  brought 
down  from  heaven  to  the  fathers  by  the  minis- 
try of  an  angel. 

CHAPTER  V. 

How  the  fact  that  the  number  of  the  Psalms  was  to  be  twelve 
was  received  from  the  teaching  of  an  angel. 

For  in  the  early  days  of  the  faith  when 
only  a  few,  and  those  the  best  of  men,  were 
known  by  the  name  of  monks,  who,  as  they 
received  that  mode  of  life  from  the  Evangelist 
Mark  of  blessed  memory,  the  first  to  preside 
over  the  Church  of  Alexandria  as  Bishop,  not 
only  preserved  those  grand  characteristics  for 
which  we  read,  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles, 
that  the  Church  and  multitude  of  believers  in 
primitive  times  was  famous  ("The  multitude 
of  believers  had  one  heart  and  one  soul.  Nor 
did  any  of  them  say  that  any  of  the  things 
which  he  possessed  was  his  own :  but  they 
had  all  things  common ;  for  as  many  as  were 
owners  of  lands  or  houses  sold  them,  and 
brought  the  price  of  the  things  which  they  sold, 
and  laid  it  at  the  feet  of  the  Apostles,  and 
distribution  was  made  to  every  man  as  he  had 
need"),5  but  they  added  to  these  characteristics 
others  still  more  sublime.  For  withdrawing 
into  more  secluded  spots  outside  the  cities  they 
led  a  life  marked  by  such  rigorous  abstinence 


3  The  rule  of  Caesariu.;  also  prescribes  twelve  Psalms  on  every 
Sabbath,  Lord's  day,  and  festival  (c.  25);  so  also,  according  to  the 
Benedictine  rule,  there  are  iwelve  Psalms  at  mattins,  besides  the  fixed 
ones,  iii.  and  xcv.  (see  c.  g  &nd  10),  as  there  are  still  in  the  Roman 
Breviary  on  ordinary  week-cays. 

4  The  custom  of  having  two  lessons  only  appears  to  have  been 
peculiar  to  Egypt.  Most  of  the  early  Western  rules  give  three,  e.g., 
those  of  Cssarius  and  Benedict,  while  in  the  Eastern  daily  offices 
there  are  no  lections  from  Holy  Scripture. 

0  Acts  iv.  32-34. 


BOOK    II. 


207 


that  even  to  those  of  another  creed  the  exalted 
character  of  their  life  was  a  standing  marvel. 
For  they  gave  themselves  up  to  the  reading  of 
Holy  Scripture  and  to  prayers  and  to  manual 
labour  night  and  day  with  such  fervour  that 
they  had  no  desire  or  thoughts  of  food  —  un- 
less on  the  second  or  third  day  bodily  hunger  ] 
reminded  them,  and  they  took  their  meat  and 
drink  not  so  much  because  they  wished  for  it 
as  because  it  was  necessary  for  life;  and  even 
then  they  took  it  not  before  sunset,  in  order 
that  they  might  connect  the  hours  of  daylight 
with  the  practice  of  spiritual  meditations,  and 
the  care  of  the  body  with  the  night,  and  might 
perform  other  things  much  more  exalted  than 
these.  And  about  these  matters,  one  who  has 
never  heard  anything  from  one  who  is  at  home 
in  such  things,  may  learn  from  ecclesiastical 
history.2  At  that  time,  therefore,  when  the 
perfection  of  the  primitive  Church  remained 
unbroken,  and  was  still  preserved  fresh  in  the 
memory  by  their  followers  and  successors,  and 
when  the  fervent  faith  of  the  few  had  not  yet 
grown  lukewarm  by  being  dispersed  among  the 
many,  the  venerable  fathers  with  watchful  care 
made  provision  for  those  to  come  after  them, 
and  met  together  to  discuss  what  plan  should 
be  adopted  for  the  daily  worship  throughout 
the  whole  body  of  the  brethren;  that  they 
might  hand  on  to  those  who  should  succeed 
them  a  legacy  of  piety  and  peace  that  was  free 
from  all  dispute  and  dissension,  for  they  were 
afraid  that  in  regard  of  the  daily  services  some 
difference  or  dispute  might  arise  among  those 
who  joined  together  in  the  same  worship,  and 
at  some  time  or  other  it  might  send  forth  a 
poisonous  root  of  error  or  jealousy  or  schism 
among  those  who  came  after.  And  when  each 
man  in  proportion  to  his  own  fervour  —  and 
unmindful  of  the  weakness  of  others  —  thought 
that  that  should  be  appointed  which  he  judged 
was  quite  easy  by  considering  his  own  faith 
and  strength,  taking  too  little  account  of  what 
would  be  possible  for  the  great  mass  of  the 
brethren  in  general  (wherein  a  very  large  pro- 
portion of  weak  ones  is  sure  to  be  found) ;  and 
when  in  different  degrees  they  strove,  each 
according  to  his  own  powers,  to  fix  an  enor- 
mous number  of  Psalms,  and  some  were  for 
fifty,  others  sixty,  and  some,  not  content  with 
this  number,  thought  that  they  actually  ought 
to  go  beyond  it,  —  there  was  such  a  holy  differ- 
ence of  opinion  in  their  pious  discussion  on 
the  rule  of  their  religion  that  the  time  for  their 
Vesper  office  came  before  the  sacred  question 
was  decided;  and,  as  they  were  going  to  cele- 
brate their  daily  rites  and  prayers,  one  rose 


1  Petschenig's  text  has  inedia,  others  inediam. 

2  Cf.  Eusebius,  Book  II.c.xv.,  xvi.    Sozomen,  Book  I.  c.  xii.,  xiii. 


up  in  the  midst  to  chant  the  Psalms  to  the 
Lord.  And  while  they  were  all  sitting  (as  is 
still  the  custom  in  Egypt3;,  with  their  minds 
intently  fixed  on  the  words  of  the  chanter, 
when  he  had  sung  eleven  Psalms,  separated  by 
prayers  introduced  between  them,  verse  after 
verse  being  evenly  enunciated,4  he  finished 
the  twelfth  with  a  response  of  Alleluia,5  and 
then,  by  his  sudden  disappearance  from  the 
eyes  of  all,  put  an  end  at  once  to  their  dis- 
cussion and  their  service.6 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Of  the  Custom  of  having  Twelve  Prayers. 

Whereupon  the  venerable  assembly  of  the 
Fathers  understood  that  by  Divine  Providence 
a  general  rule  had  been  fixed  for  the  congre- 
gations of  the  brethren  through  the  angel's 
direction,  and  so  decreed  that  this  number 
should  be  preserved  both  in  their  evening  and 
in  their  nocturnal  services;  and  when  they 
added  to  these  two  lessons,  one  from  the  Old 
and  one  from  the  New  Testament,  they  added 
them  simply  as  extras  and  of  their  own  ap- 
pointment, only  for  those  who  liked,  and  who 
were  eager  to  gain  by  constant  study  a  mind 
well  stored  with  Holy  Scripture.  But  on 
Saturday  and  Sunday  they  read  them  both 
from  the  New  Testament;  viz.,  one  from  the 
Epistles7  or  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  one 
from  the  Gospel.8  And  this  also  those  do 
whose  concern  is  the  reading  and  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  Scriptures,  from  Easter  to  Whit- 
suntide.9 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Of  their  Method  of  Praying. 

These  aforesaid  prayers,  then,  they  begin 
and  finish  in  such  a  way  that  when  the  Psalm  is 
ended  they  do  not  hurry  at  once  to  kneel  down, 
as  some  of  us  do  in  this  country,  who,  before 


s  Cf.  below,  c.  xii. 

4  Cumque  .  .  .  uiidecim  Psalmos  orationum  interjectione  dis- 
tinctos  contiguis  versibus  parili  pronunciatione  cantassat. 

s  So,  according  to  the  Benedictine  rule,  the  Psalms  at  mattins  are 
ended  with  Alleluia  (c.  ix.):  "After  these  three  lessons  with  their 
responds  there  shall  follow  the  remaining  six  Psalms  with  the 
Alleluia."     Cf.  c.  xi.  and  xv. 

6  This  story  is  referred  to  in  the  Eighteenth  Canon  of  the  Second 
Council  of  Tours,  a.d.  567.  "The  statutes  of  the  Fathers  have  pre- 
scribed that  twelve  Psalms  be  said  at  the  Twelfth  (i.e.,  Vespers),  with 
Alleluia,  which,  moreover,  they  learnt  from  the  showing  of  an  angel." 

7  Apostolus,  the  regular  name  for  the  book  of  the  Epistles. 

8  Cf.  the  note  above  on  c.  v. 

9  Teh's  Quinquagessimce  diebus;  i.e.,  the  whole  period  of  fifty  days 
between  Easter  and  Whitsuntide  (cf.  c.  xviii.  and  the  Conferences 
XXI.  viii.,  xi.,  xx.).  This  is  the  usual  meaning  of  the  term  Pentecost 
in  early  writers,  though  it  is  also  used  more  strictly  for  the  actual  fes- 
tival of  Whitsunday.  Cf.  the  Twentieth  Canon  of  the  Council  of 
Nicsa,  and  see  Canon  Bright's  Notes  on  the  Canons,  p.  72,  for  other 
instances. 


2  08 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


the  Psalm  is  fairly  ended,  make  haste  to  pro- 
strate themselves  for  prayer,  in  their  hurry  to 
finish  the  service1  as  quickly  as  possible. 
For  though  we  have  chosen  to  exceed  the  limit 
which  was  anciently  fixed  by  our  predecessors, 
supplying  the  number  of  the  remaining  Psalms, 
we  are  anxious  to  get  to  the  end  of  the  ser- 
vice, thinking  of  the  refreshment  of  the  wearied 
body  rather  than  looking  for  profit  and  benefit 
from  the  prayer.  Among  them,  therefore,  it  is 
not  so,  but  before  they  bend  their  knees  they 
pray  for  a  few  moments,  and  while  they  are 
standing  up  spend  the  greater  part  of  the  time 
•in  prayer.  And  so  after  this,  for  the  briefest 
space  of  time,  they  prostrate  themselves  to  the 
ground,  as  if  but  adoring  the  Divine  Mercy, 
and  as  soon  as  possible  rise  up,  and  again 
standing  erect  with  outspread  hands  —  just  as 
they  had  been  standing  to  pray  before  —  re- 
main with  thoughts  intent  upon  their  prayers. 
For  when  you  lie  prostrate  for  any  length  of 
time  upon  the  ground  you  are  more  open  to 
an  attack,  they  say,  not  only  of  wandering 
thoughts  but  also  of  slumber.  And  would  that 
we  too  did  not  know  the  truth  of  this  by  experi- 
ence and  daily  practice  —  we  who  when  pros- 
trating ourselves  on  the  ground  too  often  wish 
for  this  attitude  to  be  prolonged  for  some  time, 
not  for  the  sake  of  our  prayer  so  much  as  for 
the  sake  of  resting.  But  when  he  who  is  to 
''collect"  the  prayer2  rises  from  the  ground 
they  all  start  up  at  once,  so  that  no  one  would 
venture  to  bend  the  knee  before  he  bows  down, 
nor  to  delay  when  he  has  risen  from  the 
ground,  lest  it  should  be  thought  that  he  has 
offered  his  own  prayer  independently  instead 
of  following;  the  leader  to  the  close. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Of  the  Prayer  which  follows  the  Psalm. 

That  practice  too  which  we  have  observed 
in  this  country — viz.,  that  while  one  sings  to 
the  end  of  the  Psalm,  all  standing  up  sing 
together  with  a  loud  voice,  "  Glory  be  to  the 
Father  and  to  the  Son  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost " 
—  we  have  never  heard  anywhere  throughout 
the  East,  but  there,  while  all  keep  silence  when 


1  Ad celeritatem  7nissce.  The  word  "  missa  "  is  here  used  for  the 
breaking  up  of  the  congregation  after  service,  as  it  is  again  in  Book 
III.  c.  vii.,  where  Cassian  says  that  one  who  came  late  for  prayer 
had  to  wait,  standing  before  the  door,  for  the  "missa  "  of  the  whole 
assembly.  Cf.  III.  c.  viii.,  "post  vigiliarum  missam,"  and  the  rule 
of  S.  Benedict  (c.  xvii.) :  "After  the  three  Psalms  are  finished,  let 
one  lesson  be  read,  a  verse,  and  Kyrie  Eleison  :  et  missce  fiant."  A 
full  account  of  the  various  meanings  given  to  the  word  will  be  found 
in  the  Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiquities,  Vol.  II.  p.  1193  sq. 

2  Colligere  orationem.  The  phrase  corresponds  to  the  Greek 
cvvo-TTTtiv,  but  Ducange  gives -but  few  instances  of  its  use  in  Latin. 
It  is  found,  however,  in  Canon  xxx.  of  the  Council  of  Agde.  "  Plebs 
coilecta  oratione  ad  vesperam  ab  Episcopo  cum  benedictione  dimit- 
tatur." 


the  Psalm  is  finished,  the  prayer  that  follows 
is  offered  up  by  the  singer.  But  with  this 
hymn  in  honour  of  the  Trinity  only  the  whole 
Psalmody8  is  usually  ended.4 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Of   the  characteristics  of   the  prayer,  the  fuller  treatment  of 
which  is  reserved  for  the  Conferences  of  the  Elders. 

And  as  the  plan  of  these  Institutes  leads  us 
to  the  system  of  the  canonical  prayers,  the 
fuller  treatment  of  which  we  will  however 
reserve  for  the  Conferences  of  the  Elders(where 
we  shall  speak  of  them  at  greater  length  when 
we  have  begun  to  tell  in  their  own  words  of  the 
character  of  their  prayers,  and  how  continuous 
they  are),  still  I  think  it  well,  as  far  as  the  place 
and  my  narrative  permit,  as  the  occasion  offers 
itself,  to  glance  briefly  for  the  present  at  a  few 
points,  so  that  by  picturing  in  the  meanwhile 
the  movements  of  the  outer  man,  and  by  now 
laying  the  foundations,  as  it  were,  of  the  prayer, 
we  may  afterwards,  when  we  come  to  speak  of 
the  inner  man,  with  less  labour  build  up  the 
complete  edifice  of  his  prayers;  providing, 
above  all  for  this,  that  if  the  end  of  life  should 
overtake  us  and  cut  us  off  from  finishing  the 
narration  which  we  are  anxious  (D.V.)  fitly 
to  compose,  we  may  at  least  leave  in  this  work 
the  beginnings  of  so  necessary  a  matter  to  you, 
to  whom  everything  seems  a  delay,  by  reason 
of  the  fervour  of  your  desire :  so  that,  if  a 
few  more  years  of  life  are  granted  to  us,  we 
may  at  least  mark  out  for  you  some  outlines 
of  their  prayers,  that  those  above  all  who  live 
in  monasteries  may  have  some  information 
about  them;  providing  also,  at  the  same  time, 
that  those  who  perhaps  may  meet  only  with 
this  book,  and  be  unable  to  procure  the  other, 
may  find  that  they  are  supplied  with  some  sort 
of  information  about  the  nature  of  their 
prayers;  and  as  they  are  instructed  about  the 
dress  and  clothing  of  the  outer  man,  so  too 
they  may  not  be  ignorant  what  his  behaviour 
ought   to   be   in    offering  spiritual  sacrifices. 


3  Antiphona.  The  word  must  certainly  be  used  here  not  in  the 
later  sense  of  "antiphon,"  but  as  descriptive  of  the  whole  of  the 
Psalmody  of  the  office.     Cf.  note  on  c.  i. 

4  In  the  Eastern  offices  the  Psalter  is  divided  into  twenty  sections 
called  Kadicrfxara,  each  of  which  is  subdivided  into  three  crratrei?,  at 
the  close  of  each  of  which  the  Gloria  is  said,  and  not,  as  in  the  West, 
after  every  Psalm.  This  Western  custom  whicli  Cassian  here  notices 
seems  to  have  originated  in  Gaul,  and  thence  spread  toother  churches, 
as,  according  to  Walafrid  Strabo,  at  Rome  it  was  used  but  rarely 
after  the  Psalms  in  the  ninth  century.  See  Walafrid  Strabo,  c. 
xxv.  ap.  Hittorp.  6SS.  The  earliest  certain  indications  of  the  use 
of  the  hymn  itself  are  found  in  the  fourth  century.  See  S.  Basil, 
De  Spiritu  Sancto,  c.  xxix. ;  Theodoret,  Eccl.  Hist.,  II.  xxiv.;  So- 
zomen,  Eccl.  Hist.,  III.  xx.  The  Greek  form  is  Ao£a  Tra-rpi  icai 
v'uS  Kal  ayiui  irvevixari  Kai  vvi'  ko.l  act  koll  eis  tovs  cuun'a?  rmv 
ait»i'u>v,  a/j-iji-.  The  additional  words  in  use  in  the  West,  "  sicut 
erat  in  principio,"  were  first  adopted  in  the  sixth  century,  being 
ordered  by  the  Council  of  Vaison,  a.d.  529,  "  after  the  example  of 
the  apostolic  see." 


BOOK   II. 


!C9 


Since,  though  these  books,  which  we  are  now 
arranging  with  the  Lord's  help  to  write,  are 
mainly  taken  up  with  what  belongs  to  the  outer 
man  and  the  customs  of  the  Ccenobia,  yet 
those  will  rather  be  concerned  with  the  training 
of  the  inner  man  and  the  perfection  of  the 
heart,  and  the  life  and  doctrine  of  the  An- 
chorites. 

CHAPTER  X. 

Of  the  silence  and  conciseness  with  which  the  Collects  are 
offered  up  by  the  Egyptians. 

When,  then,  they  meet  together  to  celebrate 
the  aforementioned  rites,  which  they  term. 
synaxes,1  they  are  all  so  perfectly  silent  that, 
though  so  large  a  number  of  the  brethren  is 
assembled  together,  you  would  not  think  a 
single  person  was  present  except  the  one  who 
stands  up  and  chants  the  Psalm  in  the  midst ; 
and  especially  is  this  the  case  when  the  prayer 
is  offered  up,1*  for  then  there  is  no  spitting,  no 
clearing  of  the  throat,  or  noise  of  coughing,  no 
sleepy  yawning  with  open  mouths,  and  gaping, 
and  no  groans  or  sighs  are  uttered,  likely  to  dis- 
tract those  standing  near.  No  voice  is  heard 
save  that  of  the  priest  concluding  the  prayer,  ex- 
cept perhaps  one  that  escapes  the  lips  through 
aberration  of  mind  and  unconsciously  takes 
the  heart  by  surprise,  inflamed  as  it  is  with 
an  uncontrollable  and  irrepressible  fervour  of 
spirit,  while  that  which  the  glowing  mind  is 
unable  to  keep  to  itself  strives  through  a  sort 
of  unutterable  groaning  to  make  its  escape 
from  the  inmost  chambers  of  the  breast.  But 
if  any  one  infected  with  coldness  of  mind  prays 
out  loud  or  emits  any  of  those  sounds  we  have 
mentioned,  or  is  overcome  by  a  fit  of  yawning, 
they  declare  that  he  is  guilty  of  a  double  fault. 

He  is  blameworthy,  first,  as  regards  his  own 
prayer  because  he  offers  it  to  God  in  a  careless 
way;  and,  secondly,  because  by  his  unmannerly 
noise  he  disturbs  the  thoughts  of  another  who 
would  otherwise  perhaps  have  been  able  to 
pray  with  greater  attention.  And  so  their 
rule  is  that  the  prayer  ought  to  be  brought  to  an 
end  with  a  speedy  conclusion,  lest  while  we  are 
lingering  over  it  some  superfluity  of  spittle  or 
phlegm  should  interfere  with  the  close  of  our 
prayer.  And,  therefore,  while  it  is  still  glow- 
ing the  prayer  is  to  be  snatched  as  speedily 
as  possible  out  of  the  jaws  of  the  enemy,  who, 
although  he  is  indeed  always  hostile  to  us,  is 
yet  never,  more  hostile  than  when  he  sees  that 
we  are  anxious  to  offer  up  prayers  to  God 
against  his  attacks ;  and  by  exciting  wander- 


1  Syiiaxis  (criWf  is),  a  general  name  for  the  course  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical offices. 

2  Consuminatur. 


ing  thoughts  and  all  sorts  of  rheums  he  en- 
deavours to  distract  our  minds  from  attending 
to  our  prayers,  and  by  this  means  tries  to  make 
it  grow  cold,  though  begun  with  fervour. 
Wherefore  they  think  it  best  for  the  prayers  to 
be  short  and  offered  up  very  frequently:  3  on 
the  one  hand  that  by  so  often  praying  to  the 
Lord  we  may  be  able  to  cleave  to  Him  contin- 
ually; on  the  other,  that  when  the  devil  is 
lying  in  wait  for  us,  we  may  by  their  terse 
brevity  avoid  the  darts  with  which  he  endeav- 
ours to  wound  us  especially  when  we  are  saying 
our  prayers. 

CHAPTER  XL 

Of  the  system  according  to  which  the  Psalms  are  said  among 
the  Egyptians. 

And,  therefore,  they  do  not  even  attempt  to 
finish  the  Psalms,  which  they  sing  in  the  ser- 
vice, by  an  unbroken  and  continuous  recita- 
tion. But  they  repeat  them  separately  and 
bit  by  bit,  divided  into  two  or  three  sections, 
according  to  the  number  of  verses,  with  prayers 
in  between.4  For  they  do  not  care  about  the 
quantity  of  verses,  but  about  the  intelligence 
of  the  mind;  aiming  with  all  their  might  at 
this:  "I  will  sing  with  the  spirit:  I  will  sing 
also  with  the  understanding."5  And  so  they 
consider  it  better  for  ten  verses  to  be  sung  with 
understanding  and  thought6  than  for  a  whole 
Psalm  to  be  poured  forth  with  a  bewildered 
mind.  And  this  is  sometimes  caused  by  the 
hurry  of  the  speaker,  when,  thinking  of  the 
character  and  number  of  the  remaining  Psalms 
to  be  sung,  he  takes  no  pains  to  make  the 
meaning  clear  to  his  hearers,  but  hastens  on 
to  get  to  the  end  of  the  service.  Lastly,  if  any 
of  the  younger  monks,  either  through  fervour 
of  spirit  or  because  he  has  not  yet  been  properly 


3  Cf.  Augustine,  Ep.  cxxx.,  §  20  (Vol.  II.  3S9) :  "  Dicuntur 
fratres  in  jEgypto  crebras  quidem  habere  orationes,  sed  eas  tamen 
brevissimas,  et  raptim  quodammodo  jaculatas,  ne  ilia  vigilantes 
erecta,  qua?  oranti  plurimum  necessaria  est,  per  productiores  moras 
evanescat  atque  hebetetur  intentio;"  and  Hooker,  Eccl.  Polity, 
Book  V.  c.  xxxiii. :  "  The  brethren  in  Egypt  (saith  S.  Augustine)  are 
reported  to  have  many  prayers,  but  every  of  them  very  short,  as  if 
they  were  darts  thrown  out  with  a  kind  of  sudden  quickness,  lest  that 
vigilant  and  erect  attention  of  mind  which  in  prayer  is  very  necessary 
should  be  wasted  or  dulled  through  continuance,  if  their  prayers  were 
few  and  long.  .  .  .  Those  prayers  whereunto  devout  minds  have 
added  a  piercing  kind  of  brevity,  as  well  in  that  respect  which  we 
have  already  mentioned,  as  also  thereby  the  better  to  express  that 
quick  and  speedy  expedition  wherewith  ardent  affections,  the  very 
wings  of  prayer,  are  delighted  to  present  our  suits  in  heaven,  even 
sooner  than  our  tongues  can  devise  to  utter  them,"  etc. 

4  This  plan  of  dividing  some  of  the  longer  Psalms  (as  is  still  done 
with  the  119th  in  the  English  Psalter)  was  adopted  sometimes  in  the 
West  also.  Cf.  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict,  c.  xviii.,  and  the  Third 
Council  of  Narbonne  (a.d.  5S9),  Canon  2  :  "  Ut  in  psallendis  ordir.i- 
bus  per  quemque  Psalmum  Gloria  dicatur  Omnipotent!  Deo,  per  ma- 
jores  vero  Psalmos,  prout  f  uerint  prolixius,  pausationes  fiant,  et 
per  quamque  pausationem  Gloria  Trinitatis  Domino  decantetur." 
Further,  the  rule  that  prayers  should  be  intermingled  with  Psalms, 
which  was  perhaps  introduced  into  the  West  by  Cassian,  was  widely 
adopted  both  in  Gaul  and  in  Spain. 

6  1  Cor.  xiv.  15. 

6  Cum  rationabili  assignatione. 


2IO 


THE    INSTITUTES  OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


taught,  goes  beyond  the  proper  limit  of  what  is 
to  be  sung,  the  one  who  is  singing  the  Psalm  is 
stopped  by  the  senior  clapping  his  hands  where 
he  sits  in  his  stall,  and  making  them  all  rise 
for  prayer.  Thus  they  take  every  possible  care 
that  no  weariness  may  creep  in  among  them 
as  they  sit  through  the  length  of  the  Psalms, 
as  thereby  not  only  would  the  singer  himself 
lose  the  fruits  of  understanding,  but  also  loss 
would  be  incurred  by  those  whom  he  made  to 
feel  the  service  a  weariness  by  going  on  so  long. 
They  also  observe  this  with  the  greatest  care; 
viz.,  that  no  Psalm  should  be  said  with  the 
response  of  Alleluia  except  those  which  are 
marked  with  the  inscription  of  Alleluia  in 
their  title.1  But  the  aforesaid  number  of 
twelve  Psalms  they  divide  in  such  a  way  that 
if  there  are  two  brethren  they  each  sing  six; 
if  there  are  three,  then  four ;  and  if  four,  three 
each.  A  smaller  number  than  this  they  never 
sing  in  the  congregation,  and  accordingly, 
however  large  a  congregation  is  assembled, 
not  more  than  four  brethren  sing  in  the  service.2 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Of  the  reason  why  while  one  sings  the  Psalms  the  rest  sit 
down  during  the  service  ;  and  of  the  zeal  with  which  they 
afterwards  prolong  their  vigils  in 'their  cells  till  daybreak. 

This  canonical  system  of  twelve  Psalms,  of 
which  we  have  spoken,  they  render  easier  by 
such  bodily  rest  that  when,  after  their  custom, 
they  celebrate  these  services,  they  all,  except 
the  one  who  stands  up  in  the  midst  to  recite 
the  Psalms,  sit  in  very  low  stalls  and  follow 
the  voice  of  the  singer  with  the  utmost  attention 
of  heart.  For  they  are  so  worn  out  with  fasting 
and  working  all  day  and  night  that,  unless  they 
were  helped  by  some  such  indulgence,  they 
could  not  possibly  get  through  this  number 
standing  up.  For  they  allow  no  time  to  pass 
idly  without  the  performance  of  some  work, 
because  not  only  do  they  strive  with  all  earn- 
estness to  do  with  their  hands  those  things 
which  can  be  done  in  daylight,  but  also  with 
anxious  minds  they  examine  into  those  sorts 
of  work  which  not  even  the  darkness  of  night 
can  put  a  stop  to,  as  they  hold  that  they  will 
gain  a  far  deeper  insight  into  subjects  of  spir- 
itual contemplation  with  purity  of  heart,  the 
more  earnestly  that  they  devote  themselves  to 
work  and  labour.  And  therefore  they  consider 
that  a  moderate  allowance  of  canonical  prayers 
was  divinely  arranged  in  order  that  for  those 


1  Viz.  :  Pss.  civ.,  cv.,  cvi.,  ex.,  cxi.,  cxii.,  cxiii.,  cxiv.,  cxv., 
cxvi.,  cxvii. ,  cxviii.,  exxxiv.,  exxxv.,  cxiv.,  cxlvi.,  cxlvii.,  cxlviii.,  cxlix., 
cl.,  in  the  LXX.  and  the  Latin. 

2  This  arrangement  by  which  the  Psalm  was  sung  by  a  single 
ivoice,  while  the  rest  of  the  congregation  listened,  is  that  which  was 

afterwards  known  by  the  name  of  Tractus. 


who  are  very  ardent  in  faith  room  might  be  left 
in  which  their  never-tiring  flow  of  virtue  might 
spend  itself,  and  notwithstanding  no  loathing 
arise  in  their  wearied  and  weak  bodies  from 
too  large  a  quantity.  And  so,  when  the  offices 
of  the  canonical  prayers  have  been  duly  fin- 
ished, every  one  returns  to  his  own  cell  (which 
he  inhabits  alone,  or  is  allowed  to  share  with 
only  one  other  whom  partnership  in  work  or 
training  in  discipleship  and  learning  has 
joined  with  him,  or  perhaps  similarity  of 
character  has  made  his  companion),  and  again 
they  offer  with  greater  earnestness  the  same 
service  of  prayer,  as  their  special  private  sacri- 
fice, as  it  were ;  nor  do  any  of  them  give  them- 
selves up  any  further  to  rest  and  sleep  till 
when  the  brightness  of  day  comes  on  the 
labours  of  the  day  succeed  the  labours  and 
meditations  of  the  nigfht. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


The  reason  why  they  are  not  allowed  to  go  to  sleep  after  the 
night  service.3 


And  these  labours  they  keep  up  for  two  rea- 
sons, besides  this  consideration, — that  they 
believe  that  when  they  are  diligently  exerting 
themselves  they  are  offering  to  God  a  sacrifice 
of  the  fruit  of  their  hands.  And,  if  we  are 
aiming  at  perfection,  we  also  ought  to  observe 
this  with  the  same  diligence.  First,  lest  our 
envious  adversary,  jealous  of  our  purity  against 
which  he  is  always  plotting,  and  ceaselessly 
hostile  to  us,  should  by  some  illusion  in  a 
dream  pollute  the  purity  which  has  been 
gained  by  the  Psalms  and  prayers  of  the  night: 
for  after  that  satisfaction  which  we  have  offered 
for  our  negligence  and  ignorance,  and  the 
absolution  implored  with  profuse  sighs  in  our 
confession,  he  anxiously  tries,  if  he  finds  some 
time  given  to  repose,  to  defile  us;  then  above 
all  endeavouring  to  overthrow  and  weaken  our 
trust  in  God  when  he  sees  by  the  purity  of  our 
prayers  that  we  are  making  most  fervent  efforts 
towards  God :  so  that  sometimes,  when  he  has 
been  unable  to  injure  some  the  whole  night 
long,  he  does  his  utmost  to  disgrace  them  in 
that  short  hour.  Secondly,  because,  even  if 
no  such  dreaded  illusion  of  the  devil  arises, 
even  a  pure  sleep  in  the  interval  produces 
laziness  in  the  case  of  the  monk  who  ought 
soon  to  wake  up ;  and,  bringing  on  a  sluggish 
torpor  in  the  mind,  it  dulls  his  vigour  through- 
out the  whole  day,  and  deadens  that  keenness 


3  Missis.  The  use  of  this  word  for  the  offices  of  the  Canonical 
Hours,  though  not  common,  is  found  also  in  the  Thirtieth  Canon  of 
the  Council  of  Agde,  A.D.  506.  "  At  the  end  of  the  morning  and 
evening  misscc,  after  the  hymns,  let  the  little  chapters  from  the 
Psalms  be  said." 


BOOK    II. 


21  I 


of  perception  and  exhausts  that  energy1  of 
heart  which  would  be  capable  of  keeping  us 
all  day  long  more  watchful  against  all  the 
snares  of  the  enemy  and  more  robust.  Where- 
fore to  the  Canonical  Vigils  there  are  added 
these  private  watchings,  and  they  submit  to 
them  with  the  greater  care,  both  in  order  that 
the  purity  which  has  been  gained  by  Psalms 
and  prayers  may  not  be  lost,  and  also  that  a 
more  intense  carefulness  to  guard  us  diligently 
through  the  day  may  be  secured  beforehand 
by  the  meditation  of  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Of   the  way  in  which  they  devote    themselves   in  their  cells 
equally  to  manual  labour  and  to  prayer. 

And  therefore  they  supplement  their  prayer 
by  the  addition  of  labour,  lest  slumber  might 
steal  upon  them  as  idlers.  For  as  they  scarcely 
enjoy  any  time  of  leisure,  so  there  is  no  limit 
put  to  their  spiritual  meditations.  For  prac- 
tising equally  the  virtues  of  the  body  and  of 
the  soul,  they  balance  what  is  due  to  the  outer 
by  what  is  profitable  to  the  inner  man  ;2  steady- 
ing the  slippery  motions  of  the  heart  and  the 
shifting  fluctuations  of  the  thoughts  by  the 
weight  of  labour,  like  some  strong  and  im- 
moveable anchor,  by  which  the  changeableness 
and  wanderings  of  the  heart,  fastened  within 
the  barriers  of  the  cell,  may  be  shut  up  in  some 
perfectly  secure  harbour,  and  so,  intent  only  on 
spiritual  meditation  and  watchfulness  over  the 
thoughts,  may  not  only  forbid  the  watchful  mind 
to  give  a  hasty  consent  to  any  evil  suggestions, 
but  may  also  keep  it  safe  from  any  unnecessary 
and  idle  thoughts :  so  that  it  is  not  easy  to  say 
which  depends  on  the  other —  I  mean,  whether 
they  practise  their  incessant  manual  labour  for 
the  sake  of  spiritual  meditation,  or  whether  it 
is  for  the  sake  of  their  continuous  labours  that 
they  acquire  such  remarkable  spiritual  profi- 
ciency and  light  of  knowledge. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Of  the  discreet  rule  by  which  every  one  must  retire  to  his  cell 
after  the  close  of  the  prayers  ;  and3  of  the  rebuke  to  which 
any  one  who  does  otherwise  is  subject. 

And  so,  when  the  Psalms  are  finished,  and 
the  daily  assembly,  as  we  said  above,  is  broken 
up,  none  of  them  dares  to  loiter  ever  so  little 
or  to  gossip  with  another :  nor  does  he  presume 
even  to  leave  his  cell  throughout  the  whole 


1  Pinguetudo. 

2  Exterioris  hominis  stipendia  cum  emolumentis  interioris  exoe- 
quant. 

3  Post  orationum  ntissam.     See  note  on  c.  vii. 


day,  or  to  forsake  the  work  which  he  is  wont 
to  carry  on  in  it,  except  when  they  happen  to 
be  called  out  for  the  performance  of  some 
necessary  duty,  which  they  fulfil  by  going 
out  of  doors  so  that  there  may  not  be  any 
chattering  at  all  among  them.  But  every  one 
does  the  work  assigned  to  him  in  such  a  way 
that,  by  repeating  by  heart  some  Psalm  or 
passage  of  Scripture,  he  gives  no  opportunity 
or  time  for  dangerous  schemes  or  evil  designs, 
or  even  for  idle  talk,  as  both  mouth  and  heart 
are  incessantly  taken  up  with  spiritual  medita- 
tions. For  they  are  most  particular  in  observ- 
ing this  rule,  that  none  of  them,  and  especially 
of  the  younger  ones,  may  be  caught  stopping 
even  for  a  moment  or  going  anywhere  together 
with  another,  or  holding  his  hands  in  his.  But, 
if  they  discover  any  who  in  defiance  of  the 
discipline  of  this  rule  have  perpetrated  any  of 
these  forbidden  things,  they  pronounce  them 
guilty  of  no  slight  fault,  as  contumacious  and 
disobedient  to  the  rules ;  nor  are  they  free  from 
suspicion  of  plotting  and  nefarious  designs. 
And,  unless  they  expiate  their  fault  by  public 
penance  when  all  the  brethren  are  gathered 
together,  none  of  them  is  allowed  to  be  present 
at  the  prayers  of  the  brethren. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

How  no  one  is  allowed  to  pray  with  one  who  has  been  sus- 
pended from  prayer. 

Further,  if  one  of  them  has  been  suspended 
from  prayer  for  some  fault  which  he  has  com- 
mitted, no  one  has  any  liberty  of  praying  with 
him  before  he  performs  his  penance  on  the 
ground,4  and  reconciliation  and  pardon  for  his 
offence  has  been  publicly  granted  to  him  by 
the  Abbot  before  all  the  brethren.  For  by  a 
plan  of  this  kind  they  separate  and  cut  them- 
selves off  from  fellowship  with  him  in  prayer 
for  this  reason  —  because  they  believe  that  one 
who  is  suspended  from  prayer  is,  as  the  Apostle 
says,  "  delivered  unto  Satan :"  5  and  if  any  one, 
moved  by  an  ill-considered  affection,  dares  to 
hold  communion  with  him  in  prayer  before 
he  has  been  received  by  the  Elder,  he  makes 
himself  partaker  of  his  damnation,  and  deliv- 
ers himself  up  of  his  own  free  will  to  Satan,  to 
whom  the  other  had  been  consigned  for  the 
correction  of  his  guilt.  And  in  this  he  falls 
into  a  more  grievous  offence  because,  by  unit- 
ing with  him  in  fellowship  either  in  talk  or 
in  prayer,  he  gives  him  grounds  for  still  greater 
arrogance,  and  only  encourages  and  makes 
worse  the  obstinacy  of  the  offender.     For,  by 


4  Cf.  III.  vii.,  and  the  description  of  this  penance  in  IV.  xvi. 

5  i  Cor.  v.  5  ;  i  Tim.  i.  20. 


212 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF   JOHN   CASSIAN. 


giving  him  a  consolation  that  is  only  hurtful, 
he  will  make  his  heart  still  harder,  and  not 
let  him  humble  himself  for  the  fault  for  which 
he  was  excommunicated;  and  through  this  he 
will  make  him  hold  the  Elder's  rebuke  as  of  no 
consequence,  and  harbour  deceitful  thoughts 
about  satisfaction  and  absolution. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

How  he  who  rouses  them  for  prayer  ought  to  call  them   at 
the  usual  time. 

But  he  who  has  been  entrusted  with  the 
office  of  summoning  the  religious  assembly  and 
with  the  care  of  the  service  should  not  presume 
to  rouse  the  brethren  for  their  daily  vigils 
irregularly,  as  he  pleases,  or  as  he  may  wake 
up  in  the  night,  or  as  the  accident  of  his  own 
sleep  or  sleeplessness  may  incline  him.  But, 
although  daily  habit  may  constrain  him  to 
wake  at  the  usual  hour,  yet  by  often  and 
anxiously  ascertaining  by  the  course  of  the 
stars  the  right  hour  for  service,  he  should 
summon  them  to  the  office  of  prayer,  lest  he 


be  found  careless  in  one  of  two  ways:  either 
if,  overcome  with  sleep,  he  lets  the  proper 
hour  of  the  night  go  by,  or  if,  wanting  to  go 
to  bed  and  impatient  for  his  sleep,  he  antici- 
pates it,  and  so  maybe  thought  to  have  secured 
his  own  repose  instead  of  attending  to  the 
spiritual  office  and  the  rest  of  all  the  others. * 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

How  they  do  not  kneel  from  the  evening  of  Saturday  till  the 
evening  of  Sunday. 

This,  too,  we  ought  to  know,  — that  from  the 
evening  of  Saturday  which  precedes  the  Sun- 
day,2 up  to  the  following  evening,  among  the 
Egyptians  they  never  kneel,  nor  from  Easter 
to  Whitsuntide;3  nor  do  they  at  these  times 
observe  a  rule  of  fasting,4  the  reason  for 
which  shall  be  explained  in  its  proper  place 
in  the  Conferences  of  the  Elders,5  if  the  Lord 
permits.  At  present  we  only  propose  to  run 
through  the  causes  very  briefly,  lest  our  book 
exceed  its  due  limits  and  prove  tiresome  or 
burdensome  to  the  reader. 


BOOK    III. 

OF  THE  CANONICAL  SYSTEM  OF  THE  DAILY  PRAYERS  AND  PSALMS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Of  the  services  of  the  third,  sixth,  and  ninth  hours,  which  are 
observed  in  the  regions  of  Syria. 

The  nocturnal  system  of  prayers  and  Psalms 
as  observed  throughout  Egypt  has  been,  I 
think,  by  God's  help,  explained  so  far  as  our 
slender  ability  was  able;  and  now  we  must 
speak  of  the  services  of  Tierce,  Sext,  and 
None,  according  to  the  rule  of  the  monas- 
teries of  Palestine  and  Mesopotamia,6  as  we 
said  in  the  Preface,  and  must  moderate  by  the 
customs  of  these  the  perfection  and  inimitable 
rigour  of  the  discipline  of  the  Egyptians. 


1  The  rule  of  S.  Benedict  is  similarly  careful  that  the  brethren 
may  not  oversleep  themselves.     See  c.  xi.  and  xlvii. 

2  Qua:  lucescit  imn  die  dominicum.  The  phrase  is  borrowed  by 
Cassian  from  the  Latin  of  S.  Matt,  xxviii.  i. 

3  Tot  is  Qui71quagesim.ee  digitus.     See  above  on  c.  vi. 

4  That  this  was  the  rule  of  the  primitive  Church  is  shown  by 
Tertulhan,  De  Corona  A/iiitis,  c.  iii.  "  We  count  fasting  or  kneel- 
ing in  worship  on  the  Lord's  day  to  be  unlawful.  We  rejoice  in  the 
same  privilege,  also,  from  Easter  to  Whitsunday."   And  even  earlier, 


CHAPTER  II. 

How  among  the  Egyptians  they  apply  themselves  all  day 
long  to  prayer  and  Psalms  continually,  with  the  addition  of 
work,  without  distinction  of  hours. 

For  among  them  (viz.,  the  Egyptians)  these 
offices  which  we  are  taught  to  render  to  the 
Lord  at  separate  hours  and  at  intervals  of 
time,  with  a  reminder  from  the  convener,  are 
celebrated  continuously  throughout  the  whole 

in  a  fragment  of  Irenajus,  there  is  a  mention  of  the  fact  that  Chris- 
tians abstained  from  kneeling  on  Sunday  in  token  of  the  resurrec- 
tion. For  later  testimonies  see  Ambrose,  Efi.  119,  adjanuarium. 
Epiphanius,  on  Heresies,  Book  III.  (Vol.  111.  p.  5S3,  ed.  Dindorf). 
Jerome,  Dial:  Adv.  Lucif.  c.  iv. ;  and  the  Twentieth  Canon  of  the 
Council  of  Nicsa,  with  Canon  Bright's  notes  (Notes  on  the  Canons 
of  tlie  First  Four  General  Councils,  p.  72). 

6  Cf.  the  Conferences  XXI.  xi. 

c  According  to  S.  Jerome,  Hilarion  was  the  first  to  introduce  the 
monastic  life  into  Palestine  (Vita  Hilar.).  His  work  was  carried  on 
by  his  companion  and  pupil  Hesycas,  and  Epiphanius,  afterwards 
Bishop  of  Salamis  in  Cyprus.  In  Asia  Minor  S.  Basil  was  the 
greater  organizer  of  monasticism,  though,  as  he  tells  us,  there  were 
already  many  monks,  not  only  in  Egypt,  but  also  in  Palestine, 
Ccelosyria,  and  Mesopotamia  (Ep.  cexxiii.).  See  also  on  the  early 
monks'  of  Palestine  and  the  East,  Sozomen,  H.  E.,  Book  VI.,  cc. 
xxxii.-xxxv. 


BOOK   III. 


213 


day,  with  the  addition  of  work,  and  that  of 
their  own  free  will.  For  manual  labour  is 
incessantly  practised  by  them  in  their  cells  in 
such  a  way  that  meditation  on  the  Psalms  and 
the  rest  of  the  Scriptures  is  never  entirely 
omitted.  And  as  with  it  at  every  moment 
they  mingle  suffrages  and  prayers,  they  spend 
the  whole  day  in  those  offices  which  we  cele- 
brate at  fixed  times.  Wherefore,  except  Ves- 
pers and  Nocturns,  there  are  no  public  services 
among  them  in  the  day  except  on  Saturday  and 
Sunday,  when  they  meet  together  at  the  third 
hour  for  the  purpose  of  Holy  Communion.1 
For  that  which  is  continuously  offered  is  more 
than  what  is  rendered  at  intervals  of  time; 
and  more  acceptable  as  a  free  gift  than  the 
duties  which  are  performed  by  the  compulsion 
of  a  rule :  as  David  for  this  rejoices  somewhat 
exultingly  when  he  says,  "  Freely  will  I  sacri- 
fice unto  Thee;"  and,  "Let  the  free  will  offer- 
ings of  my  mouth  be  pleasing  to  Thee,  O 
Lord."2 

CHAPTER  III. 

How  throughout  all  the  East  the  services  of  Tierce,  Sext, 
and  None  are  ended  with  only  three  Psalms  and  prayers 
each  ;  and  the  reason  why  these  spiritual  offices  are  assigned 
more  particularly  to  those  hours. 

And  so  in  the  monasteries  of  Palestine  and 
Mesopotamia  and  all  the  East  the  services  of 
the  above-mentioned  hours  are  ended  each  day 
with  three  Psalms  apiece,  so  that  constant 
prayers  may  be  offered  to  God  at  the  appointed 
times,  and  yet,  the  spiritual  duties  being  com- 
pleted with  due  moderation,  the  necessary  of- 
fices of  work  may  not  be  in  any  way  interfered 
with :  for  at  these  three  seasons  we  know  that 
Daniel  the  prophet  also  poured  forth  his 
prayers  to  God  day  by  day  in  his  chamber 
with  the  windows  open.3  Nor  is  it  without 
good  reasons  that  these  times  are  more  particu- 
larly assigned  to  religious  offices,  since  at  them 
what  completed  the  promises  and  summed  up 
our  salvation  was  fulfilled.  For  we  can  show 
that  at  the  third  hour  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  had 
been  of  old  promised  by  the  prophets,  de- 
scended in  the  first  instance  on  the  Apostles 
assembled  together  for  prayer.  For  when  in 
their  astonishment  at  the  speaking  with 
tongues,  which  proceeded  from  them  through 


1  The  Saturday  Communion  (in  addition  to  that  of  Wednesday 
and  Friday,  as  well  as  Sunday)  is  also  mentioned  by  S.  Basil  (Ep. 
xciii.),  and  cf.  the  Forty-ninth  Canon  of  the  Council  of  Laodica;a 
(circa  360  a.d.):  "  During;  Lent  the  bread  shall  not  be  offered  except 
on  Saturday  and  Sunday."  In  the  West  there  is  no  trace  of  a  spe- 
cial Saturday  celebration  of  the  Holy  Communion. 

The  third  hour  was  the  ordinary  time  for  Holy  Communion,  as 
may  be  seen  from  the  decree  (falsely)  ascribed  to  Pope  Telesphorus 
(a.d.  127-138),  in  the  Liber  Po7itificalis:  "  Ut  nullus  ante  horam 
tertiam  sacrificium  offere  prasumeret,"  and  many  other  testimonies. 

2  Ps.  liii.  (liv.)  8;  cxviii.  (cxix.)  108. 

3  Cf.  Daniel  vi.  10. 


the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost  upon  them, 
the  unbelieving  people  of  the  lews  mocked 
and  said  that  they  were  full  of  new  wine,  then 
Peter,  standing  up  in  the  midst  of  them,  said: 
''Men  of  Israel,  and  all  ye  who  dwell  at  Jeru- 
salem, let  this  be  known  unto  you,  and  consider 
my  words.  For  these  men  are  not,  as  ye 
imagine,  drunk,  since  it  is  the  third  hour  of 
the  day;  but  this  is  that  which  was  spoken  by 
the  prophet  Joel :  and  it  shall  come  to  pass  in 
the  last  days,  saith  the  Lord,  I  will  pour  out 
of  my  Spirit  upon  all  flesh,  and  your  sons  and 
your  daughters  shall  prophesy,  and  your  young 
men  shall  see  visions  and  your  old  men  shall 
dream  dreams.  And  indeed  upon  my  servants 
and  my  handmaids  in  those  days  I  will  pour 
out  of  my  Spirit,  and  they  shall  prophesy."  4 
And  all  of  this  was  fulfilled  at  the  third  hour, 
when  the  Holy  Spirit,  announced  before  by  the 
prophets,  came  at  that  hour  and  abode  upon 
the  Apostles.  But  at  the  sixth  hour  the  spotless 
Sacrifice,  our  Lord  and  Saviour,  was  offered 
up  to  the  Father,  and,  ascending  the  cross  for 
the  salvation  of  the  whole  world,  made  atone- 
ment for  the  sins  of  mankind,  and,  despoiling 
principalities  and  powers,  led  them  away 
openly;  and  all  of  us  who  were  liable  to  death 
and  bound  by  the  debt  of  the  handwriting  that 
could  not  be  paid,  He  freed,  by  taking  it  away 
out  of  the  midst  and  affixing  it  to  His  cross 
for  a  trophy.5  At  the  same  hour,  too,  to  Peter, 
in  an  ecstasy  of  mind,  there  was  divinely  re- 
vealed both  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles  by  the 
letting  down  of  the  Gospel  vessel  from  heaven, 
and  also  the  cleansing  of  all  the  living  crea- 
tures contained  in  it,  when  a  voice  came  to 
him  and  said  to  him:  "Rise,  Peter;  kill  and 
eat;  " 6  which  vessel,  let  down  from  heaven  by 
the  four  corners,  is  plainly  seen  to  signify 
nothing  else  than  the  Gospel.  For  although, 
as  it  is  divided  by  the  fourfold  narrative  of 
the  Evangelists,  it  seems  to  have  "four  cor- 
ners" (or  beginnings),  yet  the  body  of  the 
Gospel  is  but  one ;  embracing,  as  it  does,  the 
birth  as  well  as  the  Godhead,  and  the  miracles 
as  well  as  the  passion  of  one  and  the  same 
Christ.  Excellently,  too,  it  says  not  "of 
linen  "  but  "  as  if  of  linen. "  For  linen  signifies 
death.  Since,  then,  our  Lord's  death  and  pas- 
sion were  not  undergone  by  the  law  of  human 
nature,  but  of  His  own  free  will,  it  says  "  as  if 
of  linen."  For  when  dead  according  to  the 
flesh  He  was  not  dead  according  to  the  spirit, 
because  "His  soul  was  notieft  in  hell,  neither 


4  Acts  ii.  14-18. 

5  The  whole  passage  is  alluding  to  Col.  ii.  14,  15,  which  runs  as 
follows  in  the  Vulgate  :  "  Delens  quod  adversum  nos  erat  chirograf- 
fum  decretis,  quod  erat  contrarium  nobis,  et  ipse  tulit  de  medio,  affi- 
gens  illud  cruci,  expolians  principatus  et  potestates  traduxit  confiden- 
ter,  palam  triumphans  illos  in  semet  ipso." 

6  Acts  x.  11  sg. 


214 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF  JOHN   CASSIAN. 


did  His  flesh  see  corruption."1  And  again 
He  says:  "No  man  taketh  My  life  from  Me  : 
but  I  lay  it  down  of  Myself.  I  have  power  to 
lay  it  down,  and  I  have  power  to  take  it 
again."  2  And  so  in  this  vessel  of  the  Gospels 
let  down  from  heaven,  that  is  written  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,  all  the  nations  which  were  for- 
merly outside  the  observance  of  the  law  and 
reckoned  as  unclean  now  flow  together  through 
belief  in  the  faith  that  they  may  to  their  sal- 
vation be  turned  away  from  the  worship  of 
idols  and  be  serviceable  for  health-giving  food, 
and  are  brought  to  Peter  and  cleansed  by  the 
voice  of  the  Lord.  But  at  the  ninth  hour, 
penetrating  to  hades,  He  there  by  the  bright- 
ness of  His  splendour  extinguished  the  inde- 
scribable darkness  of  hell,  and,  bursting  its 
brazen  gates  and  breaking  the  iron  bars, 
brought  away  with  Him  to  the  skies  the  captive 
band  of  saints  which  was  there  shut  up  and 
detained  in  the  darkness  of  inexorable  hell,3 
and,  by  taking  away  the  fiery  sword,  restored 
to  paradise  its  original  inhabitants  by  his  pious 
confession.  At  the  same  hour,  too,  Cornelius, 
the  centurion,  continuing  with  his  customary 
devotion  in  his  prayers,  is  made  aware  through 
the  converse  of  the  angel  with  him  that  his 
prayers  and  alms  are  remembered  before  the 
Lord,  and  at  the  ninth  hour  the  mystery 4  of 
the  calling  of  the  Gentiles  is  clearly  shown  to 
him,  which  had  been  revealed  to  Peter  in  his 
ecstasy  of  mind  at  the  sixth  hour.  In  another 
passage,  too,  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  we  are 
told  as  follows  about  the  same  time:  "But 
Peter  and  John  went  up  into  the  temple  at  the 
hour  of  prayer,  the  ninth  hour."5  And  by 
these  notices  it  is  clearly  proved  that  these 
hours  were  not  without  good  reason  conse- 
crated with  religious  services  by  holy  and 
apostolic  men,  and  ought  to  be  observed  in 
like  manner  by  us,  who,  unless  we  are  com- 
pelled, as  it  were,  by  some  rule  to  discharge 
these  pious  offices  at  least  at  stated  times, 
either  through  sloth  or  through  forgetfulness, 
or  being  absorbed  in  business,  spend  the  whole 
day  without  engaging  in  prayer.  But  concern- 
ing the  evening  sacrifices  what  is  to  be  said, 
since  even  in  the  Old  Testament  these  are 


1  Ps.  xv.  (xvi.)  10. 

1  S.  John  x.  iS. 

3  The  belief  that  by  the  descent  into  hell  our  Lord  released  some 
who  were  there  detained  was  almost,  if  not  quite,  universal  in  the 
early  ages,  and  is  recognized  by  a  large  number  of  the  Fathers.  It 
is  alluded  to  by  so  early  a  writer  as  Ignatius  (Ad  Magn.  ix.),  and 
appears  in  Irenaeus  (IV.  c.  xlii.)  as  a  tradition  of  those  who  had  seen 
the  Apostles.  See  also  Tertullian,  De  Anuria,  c.  lv.,  and  a  host  of 
later  writers. 

1  Sacramentum.  This  word  is  used  by  Cassian,  as  by  other 
Latin  writers,  as  the  regular  equivalent  of  the  Greek  fiucrTijpioi',  ar>d 
as  such  is  applied  to  sacred  truths  equally  with  sacred  rites.  See 
Book  V.  xxxiv.:  "  Sacramentascriptorum  ;  "  Conferences  IX.  xxxiv. : 
"  Sacramentum  resurrectionis  Domimcae."  And  again  and  again  the 
word  is  used  of  the  mystery  of  the  Incarnation  in  the  books  against 
Nestorius. 

0  Acts  iii.  i. 


ordered  to  be  offered  continually  by  the  law 
of  Moses?  For  that  the  morning  whole-burnt 
offerings  and  evening  sacrifices  were  offered 
every  day  continually  in  the  temple,  although 
with  figurative  offerings,  we  can  show  from 
that  which  is  sung  by  David:  "  Let  my  prayer 
be  set  forth  in  Thy  sight  as  the  incense,  and 
let  the  lifting  up  of  my  hands  be  an  evening 
sacrifice,"6  in  which  place  we  can  understand 
it  in  a  still  higher  sense  of  that  true  evening 
sacrifice  which  was  given  by  the  Lord  our 
Saviour  in  the  evening  to  the  Apostles  at  the 
Supper,  when  He  instituted  the  holy  mysteries 
of  the  Church,  and  of  that  evening  sacrifice 
which  He  Himself,  on  the  following  day,  in 
the  end  of  the  ages,  offered  up  to  the  Father 
by  the  lifting  up  of  His  hands  for  the  salva- 
tion of  the  whole  world;  which  spreading 
forth  of  His  hands  on  the  Cross  is  quite 
correctly  called  a  "lifting  up."  For  when 
we  were  all  lying  in  hades  He  raised  us  to 
heaven,  according  to  the  word  of  His  own 
promise  when  He  says:  "When  I  am  lifted 
up  from  the  earth,  I  will  draw  all  men  unto 
Me."7  But  concerning  Mattins,  that  also 
teaches  us  which  it  is  customary  every  day  to 
sing  at  it:  "O  God,  my  God,  to  Thee  do  I 
watch  at  break  of  day ;  "  and  "  I  will  meditate 
on  Thee  in  the  morning;"  and  "I  prevented 
the  dawning  of  the  day  and  cried ; "  and  again, 
"  Mine  eyes  to  Thee  have  prevented  the  morn- 
ing, that  I  might  meditate  on  Thy  words."  8  At 
these  hours  too  that  householder  in  the  Gospel 
hired  labourers  into  his  vineyard.  For  thus 
also  is  he  described  as  having  hired  them  in 
the  early  morning,  which  time  denotes  the  Mat- 
tin  office;  then  at  the  third  hour;  then  at  the 
sixth;  after  this,  at  the  ninth;  and  last  of  all, 
at  the  eleventh,9  by  which  the  hour  of  the 
lamps10  is  denoted.11 


6  Ps.  cxl.  (cxli.)  2. 

7  S.  John  xii.  32. 

8  Pss.  lxii.  (lxiii.)  2,  7;  cxviii.  (cxix.)  147,  8.  In  both  East  and 
West  Ps.  lxii.  (lxiii.)  has  from  very  early  times  been  used  as  a  morn- 
ing hymn.  See  the  Apost.  Constitutions  II.  lix.,  VIII.  xxxvii.  In 
the  East  it  is  still  one  of  the  fixed  Psalms  at  Lauds,  as  it  is  also  in 
the  West,  according  to  the  Roman  use.  But  in  Cassian's  time  it 
had  apparently  been  transferred  from  Lauds  to  Prime.  See  below, 
c.  vi. 

9  S.  Matt.  xx.  1-6. 

10  Lucernaris  hora;  i.e.,  the  hour  for  Vespers,  which  is  some- 
times called  lucernarium  or  lucernalis.  S.  Jerome  in  Ps.  cxix.  S. 
Augustine,  Scrmo  i  ad  fratres  in  er. 

11  It  will  be  noticed  that  in  this  chapter  Cassian  alludes  to  five 
offices:  (1)  A  morning  office;  (2)  the  third  hour;  (3)  the  sixth ;  (4) 
the  ninth  ;  and  (5)  Vespers ;  and  gives  the  grounds  for  their  observ- 
ance.    Similar  grounds  are  given  by  Cyprian,  De  Orat.  Dominica  sub 

fine:   "For  upon  the  disciples,  at  the  third  hour,  the  Holy  Spirit 

descended,  who  fulfilled  the  grace  of  the  Lord's  promise.     Moreover, 

at  the  sixth  hour,  Peter,  going  up  to  the  housetop,  was  instructed  as 

well  by  the  sign  as  by  the  word  of  God,  admonishing  him  to  receive 

all  to  the  grace  of  salvation,  whereas  he  was  previously  doubtful  of 

the  receiving  of  the  Gentiles  to  baptism.     And  from  the  sixth  hour 

to  the  ninth  the  Lord,  being  crucified,  washed  away  our  sins  by  His 

j  blood ;  and  that  He  might  redeem  and  quicken  us,  He  then  accom- 

I  plished  His  victory  by  His  passion.     But  for  us,  beloved  brethren, 

J  besides  the  hours  of  prayer  observed  of  old,  both  the  times  and  the 

sacraments  have  now  increased  in  number.     For  we  must  also  pray 

in  the  morning,   that  the   Lord's  resurrection   may  be  celebrated  by 

I  morning  prayer.  .  .  .  Also  at  the  sun-setting  and  decline  of  day  we 


BOOK    III. 


215 


CHAPTER  IV. 

How  the  Mattin  office  was  not  appointed  by  an  ancient  tra- 
dition but  was  started  in  our  own  day  for  a  definite  reason. 

But  you  must  know  that  this  Mattins,  which 
is  now  very  generally  observed  in  Western 
countries,  was  appointed  as  a  canonical  office 
in  our  own  day,  and  also  in  our  own  monastery, 
where  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  born  of  a 
Virgin  and  deigned  to  submit  to  growth  in 
infancy  as  man,  and  where  by  His  Crace  He 
supported  our  own  infancy,  still  tender  in 
religion,  and,  as  it  were,  fed  with  milk.1  For 
up  till  that  time  we  find  that  when  this  office 
of  Mattins  (which  is  generally  celebrated  after 
a  short  interval  after  the  Psalms  and  prayers 
of  Nocturns  in  the  monasteries  of  Gaul)  was 
finished,  together  with  the  daily  vigils,  the  re- 
maining hours  were  assigned  by  our  Elders  to 
bodily  refreshment.  But  when  some  rather 
carelessly  abused  this  indulgence  and  pro- 
longed their  time  for  sleep  too  long,  as  they 
were  not  obliged  by  the  requirements  of  any 
service  to  leave  their  cells  or  rise  from  their 
beds  till  the  third  hour;  and  when,  as  well 
as  losing  their  labour,  they  were  drowsy  from 
excess  of  sleep  in  the  daytime,  when  they  ought 
to  have  been  applying  themselves  to  some 
duties,  (especially  on  those  days  when  an  un- 
usually oppressive  weariness  was  caused  by 
their  keeping  watch  from  the  evening  till 
the  approach  of  morning),  a  complaint  was 
brought  to  the  Elders  by  some  of  the  brethren 
who  were  ardent  in  spirit  and  in  no  slight 
measure  disturbed  by  this  carelessness,  and  it 
was  determined  by  them  after  long  discussion 
and  anxious  consideration  that  up  till  sunrise, 
when  they  could  without  harm  be  ready  to  read 
or  to  undertake  manual  labour,  time  for  rest 
should  be  given  to  their  wearied  bodies,  and 
after  this  they  should  all  be  summoned  to  the 
observance  of  this  service  and  should  rise  from 
their  beds,  and  by  reciting  three  Psalms  and 
prayers  (after  the  order  anciently  fixed  for  the 


must  pray  again.  For  since  Christ  is  the  true  Sun  and  the  true  Day, 
as  the  worldly  sun  and  day  depart,  when  we  prav  and  ask  that  light 
may  return  to  us  again,  we  pray  for  the  advent  of  Christ,  which  shall 
give  us  the  grace  of  everlasting  light."  Cf .  also  S.  Basil,  The  Greater 
Monastic  Rules,  Q.  xxxvii.,  where  the  same  subject  is  discussed,  and 
Apost.  Const.  Book  VIII.  c.  xxxiv.  In  later  times  the  Seven  Canoni- 
cal Hours  were  all  connected  with  the  events  of  our  Lord's  Passion, 
and  supposed  to  commemorate  His  sufferings,  as  the  following 
stanzas  show :  — 

At  Mattins  bound,  at  Prime  reviled, 

Condemned  to  death  at  Tierce, 
Nailed  to  the  Cross  at  Sext,  at  Nones 

His  blessed  side  tr  ey  pierce. 

They  take  Him  down  at  Vesper-tide, 

In  grave  at  Compline  lay; 
Who  thenceforth  bids  His  Church  observe 

Her  sevenfold  hours  alway. 

1  The  allusion  is  to  the  monastery  at  Bethlehem,  where  Cassian 
had  himself  been  educated.     See  the  Introduction. 


observance  of  Tierce  and  Sext,  to  signify  the 
confession  of  the  Trinity)2  should  at  the  same 
time  by  an  uniform  arrangement  put  an  end  to 
their  sleep  and  make  a  beginning  to  their 
work.  And  this  form,  although  it  may  seem 
to  have  arisen  out  of  an  accident  and  to  have 
been  appointed  within  recent  memory  for  the 
reason  given  above,  yet  it  clearly  makes  up 
according  to  the  letter  that  number  which  the 
blessed  David  indicates  (although  it  can  be 
taken  spiritually)  :  "  Seven  times  a  day  do  I 
praise  Thee  because  of  Thy  righteous  judg- 
ments." 3  For  by  the  addition  of  this  service 
we  certainly  hold  these  spiritual  assemblies 
seven  times  a  day,  and  are  shown  to  sing 
praises  to  God  seven  times  in  it.4  Lastly, 
though  this  same  form,  starting  from  the  East, 
has  most  beneficially  spread  to  these  parts, 
yet  still  in  some  long-established  monasteries 
in  the  East,  which  will  not  brook  the  slight- 
est violation  of  the  old  rules  of  the  Fathers, 
it  seems  never  to  have  been  introduced.5 


CHAPTER  V. 

How  they  ought  not  to  go  back  to  bed  again  after  the  Mattin 
prayers. 

But  some  in  this  province,  not  knowing  the 
reason  why  this  office  was  appointed  and  in- 
troduced, go  back  again  to  bed  after  their 
Mattin  prayers  are  finished,  and  in  spite  of  it 
fall  into  that  very  habit  to  check  which  our 
Elders  instituted  this  service.  For  they  are 
eager  to  finish  it  at  that  hour,  that  an  opportu- 
nity may  be  given,  to  those  who  are  inclined  to 
be  indifferent  and  not  careful  enough,  to  go 
back  to  bed  again,  which  most  certainly  ought 
not  to  be  done  (as  we  showed  more  fully  in 
the  previous  book  when  describing  the  service 
of  the  Egyptians),6  for  fear  least  the  force  of 


2  Trina?  confessionis  exemflo.  The  words  appear  to  mean  that 
the  three  Psalms  used  at  these  offices  are  significant  of  the  Persons 
of  the  Holy  Trinity.  So  somewhat  similarly  Cyprian  (on  the  Lord's 
Prayer)  speaks  of  the  third,  sixth,  and  ninth  hours  being  observed  as 
a  sacrament  of  the  Trinity. 

3  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  164. 

4  This  second  "  Mattins"  of  which  Cassian  has  been  speaking  is 
the  service  which  the  later  Church  called  Prime,  Cassian's  first 
Mattins  corresponding  to  Lauds,  and  his  Nocturns,  or  "  Vigiliae," 
to  Mattins.  Thus  the  "seven  hours"  are  made  up  as  follows:  (1) 
Nocturns  or  Mattins,  (2)  Lands,  (3)  Prime,  (4)  Tierce,  (5)  Sext,  (6) 
None,  (7)  Vespers.  Compline,  it  will  be  noticed,  had  not  yet  been 
introduced.  This  appears  for  the  first  time  in  the  Rule  of  S.  Bene- 
dict (c.  xvi.),  a  century  later.  By  its  introduction  the  "  day  hours  " 
were  made  up  to  seven,  Nocturns  belonging  strictly  to  the  night, 
and  answering  to  the  Psalmist's  words,  "  At  midnight  will  I  rise  to 
give  thanks  to  Thee."     Ps.  cxix.  62. 

5  The  introduction  of  Prime  appears  to  have  been  very  gradual, 
even  in  the  West;  for,  though  an  office  for  it  is  prescribed  in  S.  Bene- 
dict (c.  xix.),  yet  there  is  no  mention  of  it  in  the  Rule  of  Caesarius  of 
Aries  for  monks,  nor  in  that  of  Isidore  of  Seville,  and  it  is  omitted 
by  Cassiodorus  in  his  enumeration  of  the  seven  hours  observed  by 
the  monks.  After  Benedict  the  next  to  mention  it  appears  to  be 
Aurelius,  a  successor  of  Caesarius  at  Aries,  and  by  degrees  it  made 
its  way  to  universal  adoption  in  the  West.  In  the  Greek  Church  the 
office  for  it  is  said  continuously  with  Lauds  (to  bpOpov). 

6  Book  II.  c.  xiii. 


216 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


our  natural  passions  should  be  aroused  and 
stain  that  purity  of  ours  which  was  gained  by 
humble  confession  and  prayers  before  the 
dawn,  or  some  illusion  of  the  enemy  pollute 
us,  or  even  the  repose  of  a  pure  and  natural 
sleep  interfere  with  the  fervour  of  our  spirit 
and  make  us  lazy  and  slothful  throughout  the 
whole  day,  as  we  are  chilled  by  the  slug- 
gishness caused  by  sleep.  And  to  avoid  this 
the  Egyptians,  and  especially  as  they  are  in 
the  habit  of  rising  at  fixed  times  even  before 
the  cock-crow,  when  the  canonical  office  *  has 
been  celebrated,  afterwards  prolong  their  vigils 
even  to  daylight,  that  the  morning  light  when 
it  comes  on  them  may  find  them  established 
in  fervour  of  spirit,  and  keep  them  still  more 
careful  and  fervent  all  through  the  day,  as  it 
has  found  them  prepared  for  the  conflict  and 
strengthened  against  their  daily  struggle  with 
the  devil  by  the  practice  of  nocturnal  vigils 
and  spiritual  meditation. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

How  no  change  was  made  by  the  Elders  in  the  ancient  system 
of  Psalms  when  the  Mattin  office  was  instituted. 

But  this  too  we  ought  to  know,  viz.,  that  no 
change  was  made  in  the  ancient  arrangement 
of  Psalms  by  our  Elders  who  decided  that  this 
Mattin  service  should  be  added ;  2  but  that 
office 8  was  always  celebrated  in  their  nocturnal 
assemblies  according  to  the  same  order  as  it 
had  been  before.  For  the  hymns  which  in 
this  country  they  used  at  the  Mattin  service  at 
the  close  of  the  nocturnal  vigils,  which  they 
are  accustomed  to  finish  after  the  cock-crowing 
and  before  dawn,  these  they  still  sing  in 
like  manner;  viz.,  Ps.  148,  beginning  "O 
praise  the  Lord  from  heaven,"  and  the  rest 
which  follow;  but  the  50th  Psalm  and  the 
62nd,    and   the   89th   have,    we    know,    been 


1  Missa. 

2  I.e.,  Prime.  Some  confusion  is  likely  to  be  caused  by  the  fact 
that  Cassian  speaks  of  both  "  Lauds  "  and  "  Prime  "  by  the  same  title 
of  Mattins.  Immediately  below,  where  he  speaks  of  the  "  Mattin 
service  at  the  close  of  the  nocturnal  vigils  "  he  is  referring  to  Lauds, 
which  always  followed  immediately  (or  after  a  very  short  interval) 
after  Nocturns,  or  Mattins.  At  this  service  Pss.  cxlviii.-cl.  have 
always  been  sung ;  indeed,  they  form  the  characteristic  feature  which 

fives  the  service  its  name  of  "  Lauds  "  (oi  atvot).  Of  the  other  three 
'salms,  1.  (li.),  lxii.  (lxiii.),  and  lxxxix.  (xc),  which  Cassian  says  had 
been  transferred  from  Lauds  to  the  newly  instituted  service  of  Prime, 
lxii.  has  been  already  spoken  of  as  a  morning  hymn  of  the  early 
Church  (see  the  notes  on  c.  iii.),  and  we  learn  from  S.  Basil  that  in 
his  day  Ps.  1.  (6  t?js  ef o/uoAoy?/crews  ii/aA/u.6?)  was  regularly  sung  after 
Mattins  when  the  dav  began  to  break  {Efi.  ccvii.  ad  clericos  Neo-  Cces.}, 
and  it  is  still  a  Laauds  Psalm  in  both  East  and  West,  lxxxix.  (xc.)  is 
now  one  of  the  fixed  Psalms  at  Prime  in  the  East,  but  in  the  West 
it  is,  according  to  the  Roman  rule,  sung  at  Lauds  on  Thursdays 
only.  Thus  it  would  appear  that  the  transfer  of  these  three  Psalms 
from  Lauds  to  Prime,  of  which  Cassian  speaks,  never  obtained 
widely,  but  that  the  older  arrangement,  whereby,  at  any  rate,  1.  and 
lxii.  were  assigned  to  Lauds,  has  generally  been  adhered  to  both  in 
the  East  and  West.  Cf.  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict,  according  to  which 
Ps.  1.  is  sung  daily  at  Lauds,  and  lxii.  as  well  on  Sundays  (c.  xii.,  xiii.). 

3  Missa. 


assigned  to  this  new  service.  Lastly,  through- 
out Italy  at  this  day,  when  the  Mattin  hymns 
are  ended,  the  50th  Psalm  is  sung  in  all  the 
churches,  which  I  have  no  doubt  can  only 
have  been  derived  from  this  source. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

How  one  who  does  not  come  to  the  daily  prayer  before  the 
end  of  the  first  Psalm  is  not  allowed  to  enter  the  Oratory  ; 
but  at  Nocturns  a  late  arrival  up  to  the  end  of  the  second 
Psalm  can  be  overlooked. 

But  one  who  at  Tierce,  Sext,  or  None  has 
not  come  to  prayer  before  the  Psalm  is  begun 
and  finished  does  not  venture  further  to  enter 
the  Oratory  nor  to  join  himself  to  those  sing- 
ing the  Psalms;  but,  standing  outside,  he 
awaits  the  breaking-up  of  the  congregation,4 
and  while  they  are  all  coming  out  does  penance 
lying  on  the  ground,  and  obtains  absolution 
for  his  carelessness  and  lateness,  knowing  that 
he' can  in  no  other  way  expiate  the  fault  of  his 
sloth,  nor  can  ever  be  admitted  to  the  service 
which  will  follow  three  hours  later,  unless  he 
has  been  quick  to  make  satisfaction  at  once 
for  his  present  negligence  by  the  help  of  true 
humility.  But  in  the  nocturnal  assemblies  a 
late  arrival  up  to  the  second  Psalm  is  allowed, 
provided  that  before  the  Psalm  is  finished  and 
the  brethren  bow  down  in  prayer  he  makes 
haste  to  take  his  place  in  the  congregation 
and  join  them;  but  he  will  most  certainly  be 
subjected  to  the  same  blame  and  penance 
which  we  mentioned  before  if  he  has  delayed 
ever  so  little  beyond  the  hour  permitted  for  a 
late  arrival.5 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Of  the  Vigil  service  which  is  celebrated  on  the  evening  pre- 
ceding the  Sabbath  ;  of  its  length,  and  the  manner  in  which 
it  is  observed. 

In  the  winter  time,  however,  when  the  nights 
are  longer,  the  Vigils,6  which  are  celebrated 
every  week  on  the  evening  at  the  commencing 
the  Sabbath,  are  arranged  by  the  elders  in  the 
monasteries  to  last  till  the  fourth  cock-crow- 


4  Congregationis  missam. 

5  The  Rule  of  S.  Benedict  has  similar  provisions,  allowing  a  late 
arrival  at  Mattins  till  the  Gloria  after  the  Venite  (the  second  Psalm, 
as  it  is  preceded  by  Ps.  iii.),  and  at  the  other  services  till  the  Gloria 
after  the  first  Psalm.  "  If  any  come  later  than  this,  he  is  not  to  take 
his  usual  place  in  the  choir,  but  stand  last  of  all,  or  take  whatever 
place  the  Abbot  may  have  appointed  for  those  who  are  guilty  of  a 
similar  neglect,  so  that  he  may  be  seen  of  all_;  and  in  this  place  he  is 
to  remain  until  he  shall  have  made  public  satisfaction,  at  the  end  of 
the  office.  We  deem  it  necessary,"  the  Rule  proceeds,  "  to  place 
such  offenders  thus  apart,  that,  being  thus  exposed  to  the  view  of 
all  their  brethren,  they  may  be  shamed  into  a  sense  of  duty.  More- 
over, if  such  were  allowed  to  remain  outside  the  church,  they  might 
either  sit  down  at  their  ease,  or  while  away  their  time  in  chatting,  or 
perhaps  return  to  the  dormitory  and  compose  themselves  to  sleep, 
and  thus  expose  themselves  to  the  temptations  of  the  enemy."  Rule 
of  S.  Benedict,  c.  xliii. 

6  Vigiliot  is  here  used  as  the  equivalent  of  Nocturns. 


BOOK   III. 


217 


ing,  for  this  reason,  viz.,  that  after  the  watch 
through  the  whole  night  they  may,  by  resting 
their  bodies  for  the  remaining  time  of  nearly 
two  hours,  avoid  flagging  through  drowsiness 
the  whole  day  long,  and  be  content  with  repose 
for  this  short  time  instead  of  resting  the  whole 
night.  And  it  is  proper  for  us,  too,  to  observe 
this  with  the  utmost  care,  that  we  may  be  con- 
tent with  the  sleep  which  is  allowed  us  after 
the  office  of  Vigils  up  to  daybreak,  —  i.e.,  till 
the  Mattin  Psalms,1  —  and  afterwards  spend 
the  whole  day  in  work  and  necessary  duties,  lest 
through  weariness  from  the  Vigils,  and  feeble- 
ness, we  might  be  forced  to  take  by  day  the 
sleep  which  we  cut  off  from  the  night,  and  so 
be  thought  not  to  have  cut  short  our  bodily 
rest  so  much  as  to  have  changed  our  time  for 
repose  and  nightly  retirement.  For  our  feeble 
flesh  could  not  possibly  be  defrauded  of  the 
whole  night's  rest  and  yet  keep  its  vigour  un- 
shaken throughout  the  following  day  without 
sleepiness  of  mind  and  heaviness  of  spirit,  as 
it  will  be  hindered  rather  than  helped  by  this 
unless  after  Vigils  are  over  it  enjoys  a  short 
slumber.  And,  therefore,  if,  as  we  have  sug- 
gested, at  least  an  hour's  sleep  is  snatched 
before  daybreak,  we  shall  save  all  the  hours 
of  Vigils  which  we  have  spent  all  through  the 
night  in  prayer,  granting  to  nature  what  is  due 
to  it,  and  having  no  necessity  of  taking  back 
by  day  what  we  have  cut  off  from  the  night. 
For  a  man  will  certainly  have  to  give  up  every- 
thing to  this  flesh  if  he  tries,  not  in  a  rational 
manner  to  withhold  a  part  only,  but  to  refuse 
the  whole,  and  (to  speak  candidly)  is  anxious 
to  cut  off  not  what  is  superfluous  but  what  is 
necessary.  Wherefore  Vigils  have  to  be  made 
up  for  with  greater  interest  if  they  are  pro- 
longed with  ill-considered  and  unreasonable 
length  till  daybreak.  And  so  they  divide  them 
into  an  office  in  three  parts,  that  by  this  variety 
the  effort  may  be  distributed  and  the  exhaus- 
tion of  the  body  relieved  by  some  agreeable 
relaxation.  For  when  standing  they  have 
sung  three  Psalms  antiphonally,2  after  this, 
sitting  on  the  ground  or  in  very  low  stalls, 
one  of  them  repeats  three  Psalms,  while  the 
rest  respond,  each  Psalm  being  assigned  to 
one  of  the  brethren,  who  succeed  each  other 
in  turn;  and  to  these  they  add  three  lessons 
while  still  sitting  quietly.  And  so,  by  lessen- 
ing their  bodily  exertion,  they  manage  to  ob- 
serve their  Vigils  with  greater  attention  of 
mind.8 


1  I.e.,  the  office  of  Lauds. 

2  Tria  Antiphona.  The  word  is  here  used  (as  above,  II.  c.  ii.), 
not  in  the  modern  sense  of  antiphon,  but  to  denote  a  Psalm  or  Psalms 
sung  antiphonally. 

3  In  this  chapter  Cassian  describes  two  of  the  different  methods 
of  Psalmody  employed  in  the  ancient  Church:  (1)  Antiphonal  sing- 
ing, where  the  congregation  was  divided  into  two  parts,  or  choirs, 
which  sang  alternate  verses  ;  (2)  the  method  according  to  which  one 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  reason  why  a  Vigil  is  appointed  as  the  Sabbath  day 
dawns,  and  why  a  dispensation  from  fasting  is  enjoyed  on 
the  Sabbath  all  through  the  East. 

And  throughout  the  whole  of  the  East  it 
has  been  settled,  ever  since  the  time  of  the 
preaching  of  the  Apostles,  when  the  Christian 
faith  and  religion  was  founded,  that  these 
Vigils  should  be  celebrated  as  the  Sabbath 
dawns,4  for  this  reason,  — because,  when  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  had  been  crucified  on  the 
sixth  day  of  the  week,  the  disciples,  over- 
whelmed by  the  freshness  of  His  sufferings, 
remained  watching  throughout  the  whole 
night,  giving  no  rest  or  sleep  to  their  eyes. 
Wherefore,  since  .that  time,  a  service  of  Vigils 
has  been  appointed  for  this  night,  and  is  stillt 
observed  in  the  same  way  up  to  the  presene 
day  all  through  the  East.  And  so,  after  the 
exertion  of  the  Vigil,  a  dispensation  from  fast- 
ing, appointed  in  like  manner  for  the  Sabbath 
by  apostolic  men,5  is  not  without  reason  en- 
joined in  all  the  churches  of  the  East,  in 
accordance  with  that  saying  of  Ecclesiastes, 
which,  although  it  has  another  and  a  mystical 
sense,  is  not  misapplied  to  this,  by  which  we 
are  charged  to  give  to  both  days  —  that  is,  to 
the  seventh  and  eighth  equally  —  the  same 
share  of  the  service,  as  it  says  :  "  Give  a  portion 
to  these  seven  and  also  to  these  eight."  6  For 
this  dispensation  from  fasting  must  not  be  un- 
derstood as  a  participation  in  the  Jewish  fes- 
tival by  those  above  all  who  are  shown  to  be 
free  from  all  Jewish  superstition,  but  as  con- 
tributing to  that  rest  of  the  wearied  body  of 
which  we  have  spoken;  which,  as  it  fasts  con- 
tinually for  five  days  in  the  week  all  through 
the  year,  would  easily  be  worn  out  and  fail, 
unless  it  were  revived  by  an  interval  of  at 
least  two  days. 


voice  alone  sang  the  first  part  of  the  verse,  and  the  rest  of  the  con- 
gregation joined  in  at  the  close.  Both  methods  are  described  in  a 
well-known  passage  in  an  Epistle  of  S.  Basil  (Ep.  ccvii.  ad  clericos 
Neocoas),  where  he  tells  us  that  in  the  morning  service,  at  one  time, 
the  people  divide  themselves  into  two  parties,  and  sing  antiphonally 
to  each  other  (avTi^aWovaiv  aAAjjAois),  while  at  another  time  they 
entrust  to  one  person  the  duty  of  beginning  the  strain,  and  the  rest 
respond  (vrn]\ov<Ti).  This  latter  method  seems  to  have  been  a  very 
favourite  one,  the  Psalms  which  were  thus  sung  being  called  Respon- 
soria.  See  Isidore,  De  Offic,  i.  S;  and  compare  the  Dictionary  0/ 
Christian  Antiquities,  Vol.  II.  p.  1745;  and  Bingham,  Antiquities, 
Book  XIV.  c.  1.  A  third  method  has  been  already  described  by 
Cassian  in  Book  II.  c.  xi. ;  viz.,  that  called  Tractus,  where  the  Psalm 
was  executed  by  a  single  voice,  while  all  the  rest  of  the  congregation 
listened. 

4  The  observance  of  a  vigil  for  the  whole  or  greater  part  of  the 
night  was  a  regular  part  of  the  preparation  for  the  greater  festivals, 
and  as  such  was  usual  in  the  East  before  the  Sabbath  (Saturday)  and 
Lord's  Day,  as  well  as  Pentecost  and  Easter.  See  Socrates,  H.  E., 
VI.  viii.,  where  there  is  an  allusion  to  this. 

6  Saturday,  as  well  as  Sunday,  was  long  regarded  as  a  festival  in 
the  East,  and,  indeed,  originally  in  most  churches  of  the  West  as 
well.  See  the  Apost.  Const.  II.  lix.  1;  VIII.  xxxiii.  1. 
Canons  lxvi.;  Council  of  Laodicasa,  Canons  xvi.,  xlix.,  Ii. 

6  Eccl.  xi.  2. 


218 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF  JOHN   CASSIAN. 


CHAPTER  X. 

How  it  was  brought  about   that  they  fast  on  the  Sabbath  in 
the  city. 

But  some  people  in  some  countries  of  the 
West,  and  especially  in  the  city,1  not  knowing 
the  reason  of  this  indulgence,  think  that  a  dis- 
pensation from  fasting  ought  certainly  not  to 
be  allowed  on  the  Sabbath,  because  they  say 
that  on  this  day  the  Apostle  Peter  fasted  be- 
fore his  encounter  with  Simon."  But  from 
this  it  is  quite  clear  that  he  did  this  not  in 
accordance  with  a  canonical  rule,  but  rather 
through  the  needs  of  his  impending  struggle. 
Since  there,  too,  for  the  same  purpose,  Peter 
seems  to  have  imposed  on  his  disciples  not  a 
general  but  a  special  fast,  which  he  certainly 
would  not  have  done  if  he  had  known  that  it 
was  wont  to  be  observed  by  canonical  rule ; 
just  as  he  would  surely  have  been  ready  to 
appoint  it  even  on  Sunday,  if  the  occasion  of 
his  struggle  had  fallen  upon  it:  but  no  canon- 
ical rule  of  fasting  would  have  been  made 
general  from  this,  because  it  was  no  general 
observance  that  led  to  it,  but  a  matter  of 
necessity,  which  forced  it  to  be  observed  on  a 
single  occasion. 


CHAPTER   XL 

Of  the  points  in  which  the  service    held   on    Sunday  differs 
from  what  is  customary  on  other  days. 

But  we  ought  to  know  this,  too,  that  on 
Sunday  only  one  office  3  is  celebrated  before 
dinner,  at  which,  out  of  regard  for  the  actual 
service  4  and  the  Lord's  communion,  they  use 


1  Viz.,  Rome. 

2  The  Saturday  fast  was  observed  at  Rome  in  verv  early  days, 
being  noticed  by  Tertullian,  who  seems  to  suggest  that  it  originated 
in  the  prolongation  of  the  Friday  fast  (on  Fasting,  c.  xiv).  But  it 
seems  to  have  been  almost  peculiar  to  Rome,  and  at  Milan,  in  the 
time  of  S.  Ambrose,  the  Eastern  custom  prevailed.  See  the  impor- 
tant letter  of  Augustine  to  Casulanus  (Efi.  xxxvi.),  where  the  whole 
subject  of  the  difference  of  usage  on  this  matter  is  fully  discussed. 
The  reason  here  given  by  Cassian  for  the  origin  of  the  local  Roman 
custom  (viz.,  that  S.  Peter's  traditional  encounter  with  Simon 
Magus  took  place  on  Sunday,  and  was  prepared  for  by  the  apostle 
with  a  Saturday  fast)  is  also  there  alluded  to  bv  Augustine  as  being 
the  opinion  of  very  mauy,  though  he  tells  us  candidlv  that  most  o'f 
the  Romans  thought  it  false.  "  Est  quidem  et  haec  opinio  plurimo- 
rum,  quamvis  earn  perhibeant  esse  falsam  plerique  Romani,  quod 
Apostolus  Petrus  cum  Simone  Mago  die  dominico  certaturo,  propter 
ipsum  magna?  tentationis  periculum,  pridie  cum  ejusdem  urbis  ecclesia 
jejunaverit,  etconsecuto  tarn  prospero  gloriosoque  successu,  eundem 
morem  tenuerit,  eumque  imitate  sunt  nonnulls  Occidentis  ecclesia;." 
Cf.  also  Augustine,  Ep.  arfjamuirium,  liv. 

s  Missa. 

4  Collecta.  This  word,  from  which  our  word  "  Collect  "  is  possi- 
bly derived,  is  used  for  an  assembly  for  worship  in  the  Vulgate  in 
Lev.  xxiii.  36;  Deut.  xvi.  8;  2  Chrori.  vii.  9 ;  Neh.  viii.  18:  arid  com- 
pare the  phrase,  "  Ad  Collectam,"  in  the  Sacramentary  of  Gregory 
for  the  Feast  of  the  Purification. 


a  more  solemn  and  a  longer  service  of  Psalms 
and  prayers  and  lessons,  and  so  consider 
that  Tierce  and  Sext  are  included  in  it.  And 
hence  it  results  that,  owing  to  the  addition  of 
the  lessons,  there  is  no  diminution  of  the 
amount  of  their  devotions,  and  yet  some  differ- 
ence is  made,  and  an  indulgence  over  other 
times  seems  to  be  granted  to  the  brethren  out 
of  reverence  for  the  Lord's  resurrection;  and 
this  seems  to  lighten  the  observance  all 
through  the  week,  and,  by  reason  of  the 
difference  which  is  interposed,  it  makes  the 
day  to  be  looked  forward  to  more  solemnly  as 
a  festival,  and  owing  to  the  anticipation  of  it 
the  fasts  of  the  coming  week  are  less  felt. 
For  any  weariness  is  always  borne  with  greater 
equanimity,  and  labour  undertaken  without 
aversion,  if  some  variety  is  interposed  or 
change  of  work  succeeds. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Of  the  days  on  which,  when  supper  is  provided  for  the  breth- 
ren, a  Psalm  is  not  said  as  they  assemble  for  the  meal,  as 
is  usual  at  dinner. 


Lastly,  also,  on  those  days, —  i.e.,  on  Satur- 
day and  Sunday,  —  and  on  holy  days,  on 
which  it  is  usual  for  both  dinner  and  supper  to 
be  provided  for  the  brethren,  a  Psalm  is  not 
said  in  the  evening,  either  when  they  come  to 
supper  or  when  they  rise  from  it,  as  is  usual 
at  their  ordinary  dinner5  and  the  canonical  re- 
freshment on  fast  days,  which  the  customary 
Psalms  usually  precede  and  follow.  But  they 
simply  make  a  plain  prayer  and  come  to  sup- 
per, and  again,  when  they  rise  from  it,  con- 
clude with  prayer  alone ;  because  this  repast 
is  something  special  among  the  monks :  nor 
are  they  all  obliged  to  come  to  it,  but  it  is  only 
for  strangers  who  have  come  to  see  the  breth- 
ren, and  those  whom  bodily  weakness  or  their 
own    inclination  invites  to  it. 


c  In  sollemnihus  frandiis.  The  phrase  must  here  refer  to  their 
dinner  on  ordinary  days  (cf.  solemnitatem  ciborum,  "their  usual 
food,"  Book  IV.  c.  xxi.).  Among  the  early  monks  it  was  the  custom 
ordinarily  to  have  but  one  meal  a  day  on  the  fast  days  (viz.,  Wednes- 
day and  Fridav) ;  this  was  at  the  ninth  hour;  on  other  days,  at  the 
sixth  (i.e.,  midday).  Cf.  the  Conferences  XXI.  c.  xxiii.  On  festivals 
(viz.,  Saturday,  Sunday,  and  holy  days),  beside  the  midday  meal, 
a  supper  was  allowed  as  well.  And  on  these  days,  as  we  learn  from 
the  passage  before  us,  the  ordinary  grace  before  and  after  meat  was 
shortened  by  the  omission  of  the  customary  Psalms  at  other  times  in- 
cluded in  it.  On  the  meals  of  the  monks,  cf.  S.  Jerome's  Preface  to 
the  Rule  of  Pachomius  and  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict,  cc.  xxxix.-xli., 
the  former  of  which  tells  us  that,  except  on  Wednesday  and  Friday, 
dinner  was  at  midday,  and  a  table  was  also  set  for  labourers,  old  men, 
and  children,  and  (apparently)  for  all,  in  the  height  of  summer.  For 
the  use  of  Psalms  at  grace,  see  Clement  of  Alexandria,  Poedag.  II. 
iv.  44;  Stromateis  VII.  vii.  49. 


BOOK    IV. 


219 


BOOK   IV. 


OF  THE  INSTITUTES    OF  THE  RENUNCIANTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Of  the  training  of  those  who  renounce  this  world,  and  of  the 
way  in  which  those  are  taught  among  the  monks  of  Tabenna 
-  and  the  Egyptians  who  are  received  into  the  monasteries. 

From  the  canonical  system  of  Psalms  and 
prayers  which  ought  to  be  observed  in  the 
daily  services  throughout  the  monasteries,  we 
pass,  in  the  due  course  of  our  narrative,  to  the 
training  of  one  who  renounces  this  world; 
endeavouring  first,  as  well  as  we  can,  to  em- 
brace, in  a  short  account,  the  terms  on  which 
those  who  desire  to  turn  to  the  Lord  can  be 
received  in  the  monasteries;  adding  some 
things  from  the  rule  of  the  Egyptians,  some 
from  that  of  the  monks  of  Tabenna,1  whose 
monastery  in  the  Thebaid  is  better  filled  as 
regards  numbers,  as  it  is  stricter  in  the  rigour 
of  its  system,  than  all  others,  for  there  are  in 
it  more  than  five  thousand  brethren  under  the 
rule  of  one  Abbot;  and  the  obedience  with 
which  the  whole  number  of  monks  is  at  all 
times  subject  to  one  Elder  is  what  no  one 
among  us  would  render  to  another  even  for  a 
short  time,  or  would  demand  from  him. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Of  the  way  in  which  among  them  men  remain    in  the  mon- 
asteries even  to  extreme  old  age. 

And  I  think  that  before  anything  else  we 
ought  to  touch  on  their  untiring  perseverance 
and  humility  and  subjection, —  how  it  lasts  for 
so  long,  and  by  what  system  it  is  formed, 
through  which  they  remain  in  the  monasteries 
till  they  are  bent  double  with  old  age ;  for  it 
is  so  great  that  we  cannot  recollect  any  one 
who  joined  our  monasteries  keeping  it  up 
unbroken  even  for  a  year:  so  that  when  we 
have  seen  the  beginning  of  their  renunciation 
of  the  world,  we  shall  understand  how  it  came 
.about  that,  starting  from  such  a  commence- 
ment, they  reached  such  a  height  of  perfec- 
tion. 


1  Tabenna,  or  Tabenna?,  was  an  island  in  the  Nile,  where  was 
founded  a  flourishing  monastery  by  Pachomius  c.  330  a.d.  Of 
Pachomius  there  is  a  notice  in  Sozomen  H.  E.,  Book  III.  c.  xiv., 
and  his  Rule  was  translated  into  Latin,  with  a  preface  by  S.  Jerome, 
who  mentions  his  fame  in  Ef>.  cxxvii.  There  is  a  Life  of  Pachomius 
given  by  Rosweyde  ( Vitae  Patrum),  which  is  said  to  be  a  translation 
of  a  work  by  a  contemporary  of  his. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Of  the  ordeal  by  which  one  who  is  to  be  received  in  the  mon- 
astery is  tested. 

One,  then,  who  seeks  to  be  admitted  to  the 
discipline  of  the  monastery  is  never  received 
before  he  gives,  by  lying  outside  the  doors  for 
ten  days  or  even  longer,  an  evidence  of  his 
perseverance  and  desire,  as  well  as  of  humility 
and  patience.  And  when,  prostrate  at  the  feet 
of  all  the  brethren  that  pass  by,  and  of  set 
purpose  repelled  and  scorned  by  all  of  them, 
as  if  he  was  wanting  to  enter  the  monastery 
not  for  the  sake  of  religion  but  because  he 
was  obliged;  and  when,  too,  covered  with  many 
insults  and  affronts,  he  has  given  a  practical 
proof  of  his  steadfastness,  and  has  shown  what 
he  will  be  like  in  temptations  by  the  way  he 
has  borne  the  disgrace ;  and  when,  with  the 
ardour  of  his  soul  thus  ascertained,  he  is  ad- 
mitted, then  they  enquire  with  the  utmost  care 
whether  he  is  contaminated  by  a  single  coin 
from  his  former  possessions  clinging  to  him. 
For  they  know  that  he  cannot  stay  for  long 
under  the  discipline  of  the  monastery,  nor  ever 
learn  the  virtue  of  humility  and  obedience, 
nor  be  content  with  the  poverty  and  difficult 
life  of  the  monastery,  if  he  knows  that  ever 
so  small  a  sum  of  money  has  been  kept  hid; 
but,  as  soon  as  ever  a  disturbance  arises  on 
some  occasion  or  other,  he  will  at  once  dart 
off  from  the  monastery  like  a  stone  from  a 
sling,  impelled  to  this  by  trusting  in  that 
sum  of  money.2 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  reason  why  those  who  are  received  in  the  monastery  are 
not  allowed  to  bring  anything  in  with  them. 

And  for  these  reasons  they  do  not  agree  to 
take  from  him  money  to  be  used  even  for  .the 


2  Cf.  the  Rule  of  Pachomius,  c.  xxvi.:  "  If  any  one  comes  to  the 
door  of  the  monastery  wanting  to  renounce  the  world,  and  to  )oin 
the  number  of  the  brethren,  he  shall  not  be  allowed  to  enter,  but  the 
Abbot  of  the  monastery  must  first  be  told,  and  he  shall  stay  for  a  few 
days  outside  before  the  gate,  and  shall  be  taught  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
and  as  many  Psalms  as  he  can  learn,  and  shall  diligently  give  proof 
of  himself  that  he  has  not  done  any  thing  wrong  and  fled  111  trouble 
for  the  time,  and  that  he  is  not  in  any  one's  power,  and  that  he  can 
forsake  his  relations  and  disregard  his  property.  And  if  they  see 
that  he  is  apt  for  everythiug,  then  he  shall  be  taught  the  rest  of  the 
rules  of  the  monastery,  — what  he  ought  to  do,  whom  he  is  to  obey," 
etc.;  and,  finally,  he  is  to  be  admitted,  See  also  the  Rule  of  S. 
Benedict,  c.  lviii.,  which  is  to  much  the  same  effect ;  and  S.  Basil's 
Longer  Monastic  Rules,  Q.  x. 


220 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


good  of  the  monastery:  First,  in  case  he  may- 
be puffed  up  with  arrogance,  owing  to  this 
offering,  and  so  not  deign  to  put  himself  on  a 
level  with  the  poorer  brethren ;  and  next,  lest 
he  fail  through  this  pride  of  his  to  stoop  to  the 
humility  of  Christ,  and  so,  when  he  cannot 
hold  out  under  the  discipline  of  the  monastery, 
leave  it,  and  afterwards,  when  he  has  cooled 
down,  want  in  a  bad  spirit  to  receive  and  get 
back  —  not  without  loss  to  the  monastery  — 
what  he  had  contributed  in  the  early  days  of 
his  renunciation,  when  he  was  aglow  with 
spiritual  fervour.  And  that  this  rule  should 
always  be  kept  they  have  been  frequently 
taught  by  many  instances.  For  in  some  mon- 
asteries where  they  are  not  so  careful  some  who 
have  been  received  unreservedly  have  after- 
wards tried  most  sacrilegiously  to  demand  a 
return  of  that  which  they  had  contributed  and 
which  had  been  spent  on  God's  work. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  reason  why  those  who  give  up  the  world,  when  they  are 
received  in  the  monasteries,  must  lay  aside  their  own  clothes 
and  be  clothed  in  others  by  the  Abbot. 

.  Wherefore  each  one  on  his  admission  is 
stripped  of  all  his  former  possessions,  so  that 
he  is  not  allowed  any  longer  to  keep  even  the 
clothes  which  he  has  on  his  back:  but  in  the 
council  of  the  brethren  he  is  brought  forward 
into  the  midst  and  stripped  of  his  own  clothes, 
and  clad  by  the  Abbot's  hands  in  the  dress  of 
the  monastery,  so  that  by  this  he  may  know 
not  only  that  he  has  been  despoiled  of  all 
his  old  things,  but  also  that  he  has  laid  aside 
all  worldly  pride,  and  come  down  to  the  want 
and  poverty  of  Christ,  and  that  he  is  now  to 
be  supported  not  by  wealth  sought  for  by  the 
world's  arts,  nor  by  anything  reserved  from 
his  former  state  of  unbelief,  but  that  he  is  to 
receive  out  of  the  holy  and  sacred  funds  of 
the  monastery  his  rations  for  his  service;  and 
that,  as  he  knows  that  he  is  thence  to  be 
clothed  and  fed  and  that  he  has  nothing  of 
his  own,  he  may  learn,  nevertheless,  not  to  be 
anxious  about  the  morrow,  according  to  the 
saying  of  the  Gospel,  and  may  not  be  ashamed 
to  be  on  a  level  with  the  poor,  that  is  with  the 
body  of  the  brethren,  with  whom  Christ  was 
not  ashamed  to  be  numbered,  and  to  call  him- 
self their  brother,  but  that  rather  he  may  glory 
that  he  has  been  made  to  share  the  lot  of  his 
own  servants.1 


1  So  the  Rule  of  Pachomius  (c.xxvi.)  orders  that  on  the  admission 
of  a  monk  "  they  shall  strip  him  of  his  secular  dress,  and  put  on  him 
the  garb  of  the  monks;"  and  that  of  S.Benedict  (c.  lviii.),  "He 
shall  then  be  clothed  in  the' religious  habit,  and  his  secular  clothes 
deposited  in  the  wardrobe,  that  if,  at  the  instigation  of  the  devil,  he 
should  ever  leave  the  monastery,  they  may  be  given  back  to  him, 
and  the  religious  dress  be  taken  from  him." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The   reason  why  the  clothes  of  the   renunciants  with  which 
they  joined  the  monastery  are  preserved  by  the  steward. 

But  those  clothes,  which  he  laid  aside,  are 
consigned  to  the  care  of  the  steward  and  kept 
until  by  different  sorts  of  temptations  and 
trials  they  can  recognize  the  excellence  of  his 
progress  and  life  and  endurance.  And  if  they 
see  that  he  can  continue  therein  as  time  goes 
on,  and  remain  in  that  fervour  with  which  he 
began,  they  give  them  away  to  the  poor.  But 
if  they  find  that  he  has  been  guilty  of  any  fault 
of  murmuring,  or  of  even  the  smallest  piece  of 
disobedience,  then  they  strip  off  from  him  the 
dress  of  the  monastery  in  which  he  had  been 
clad,  and  reclothe  him  in  his  old  garments 
which  had  been  confiscated,  and  send  him 
away.2  For  it  is  not  right  for  him  to  go  away 
with  those  which  he  had  received,  nor  do  they 
allow  any  one  to  be  any  longer  dressed  in  them 
if  they  have  seen  him  once  grow  cold  in  regard 
to  the  rule  of  their  institution.  Wherefore, 
also,  the  opportunity  of  going  out  openly  is 
not  given  to  any  one,  unless  he  escapes  like 
a  runaway  slave  by  taking  advantage  of  the 
thickest  shades  of  night,  or  is  judged  unworthy 
of  this  order  and  profession  and  lays  aside 
the  dress  of  the  monastery  and  is  expelled  with 
shame  and  disgrace  before  all  the  brethren. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  reason  why  those  who  are  admitted  to  a  monastery  are 
not  permitted  to  mix  at  once  with  the  congregation  of  the 
brethren,  but  are  first  committed  to  the  guest  house. 

When,  then,  any  one  has  been  received  and 
proved  by  that  persistence  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  and,  laying  aside  his  own  garments, 
has  been  clad  in  those  of  the  monastery,  he 
is  not  allowed  to  mix  at  once  with  the  congre- 
gation of  the  brethren,  but  is  given  into  the 
charge  of  an  Elder,  who  lodges  apart  not  far 
from  the  entrance  of  the  monastery,  and  is  en- 
trusted with  the  care  of  strangers  and  guests, 
and  bestows  all  his  diligence  in  receiving 
them  kindly.  And  when  he  has  served  there 
for  a  whole  year  without  any  complaint,  and 
has  given  evidence  of  service  towards  strang- 
ers,3 being  thus  initiated  in  the  first  rudiments 


a  See  the  quotation  from  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict  in  the  note  on 
the  last  chapter. 

3  In  the  same  way  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict  (c.  lviii.)  directs  that 
the  novice  is  to  be  placed  in  the  guest  house  for  a  few  days,  while 
that  of  S.  Isidore  is  more  precise  in  ordering  him  to  be  placed  there 
"  for  three  months,"  and  to  wait  on  the  guests  there.  Two  months 
is  the  period  fixed  by  other  rules,  but  a  few  days  was  all  that  was 
ultimately  required,  and  Cassian  stands  alone  in  mentioning  a  full 
year  as  the  duration  of  this  service,  though  Sozomen  speaks  of  the 
monks  of  Tabenna  as  having  to  undergo  a  probation  of  three  vears. 
H.  E.,  III.  xiv. 


BOOK   IV. 


221 


of  humility  and  patience,  and  by  long  practice 
in  it  acknowledged,  when  he  is  to  be  admitted 
from  this  into  the  congregation  of  the  breth- 
ren he  is  handed  over  to  another  Elder,  who 
is  placed  over  ten  of  the  juniors,  who  are  en- 
trusted to  him  by  the  Abbot,  and  whom  he  both 
teaches  and  governs  in  accordance  with  the 
arrangement  which  we  read  of  in  Exodus  as 
made  by  Moses.1 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Of  the  practices  in  which  the  juniors  are  first    exercised  that 
they  may  become  proficient  in  overcoming  all  their  desires. 

And  his  anxiety  and  the  chief  part  of  his  in- 
struction—  through  which  the  juniors  brought 
to  him  may  be  able  in  due  course  to  mount  to 
the  greatest  heights  of  perfection  —  will  be  to 
teach  him  first  to  conquer  his  own  wishes; 
and,  anxiously  and  diligently  practising  him 
in  this,  he  will  of  set  purpose  contrive  to  give 
him  such  orders  as  he  knows  to  be  contrary 
to  his  liking;  for,  taught  by  many  examples, 
they  say  that  a  monk,  and  especially  the 
younger  ones,  cannot  bridle  the  desire  of  his 
concupiscence  unless  he  has  first  learnt  by 
obedience  to  mortify  his  wishes.  And  so  they 
lay  it  down  that  the  man  who  has  not  first 
learnt  to  overcome  his  desires  cannot  possibly 
stamp  out  anger  or  sulkiness,  or  the  spirit  of 
fornication;  nor  can  he  preserve  true  humility 
of  heart,  or  lasting  unity  with  the  brethren,  or 
a  stable  and  continuous  concord;  nor  remain 
for  any  length  of  time  in  the  monastery. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  reason  why  the  juniors  are   enjoined   not   to   keep  back 
any  of  their  thoughts  from  the  senior. 

By:  these  practices,  then,  they  hasten  to  im- 
press and  instruct  those  whom  they  are  train- 
ing with  the  alphabet,  as  it  were,  and  first 
syllables  in  the  direction  of  perfection,  as 
they  can  clearly  see  by  these  whether  they  are 
grounded  in  a  false  and  imaginary  or  in  a  true 
humility.  And,  that  they  may  easily  arrive 
at  this,  they  are  next  taught  not  to  conceal  by 
a  false  shame  any  itching  thoughts  in  their 
hearts,  but,  as  soon  as  ever  such  arise,  to  lay 
them  bare  to  the  senior,  and,  in  forming  a 
judgment  about  them,  not  to  trust  anything 
to  their  own  discretion,  but  to  take  it  on  trust 
that  that  is  good  or  bad  which  is  considered 


1  Cf.  Exod.  xviii.  25.  The  office  of  "Dean"  (Decamis),  which  is 
here  spoken  of  by  Cassian,  is  also  referred  to  by  Augustine  (De  Mor. 
Eccl.  xxxi.)  and  Jerome  (Ep.  xxii.  ad  Eustoc'h.),  and  recognized  by 
the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict,  c.  xxi.,  where  directions  for  his  appoint- 
ment are  driven. 


and  pronounced  so  by  the  examination  of  the 
senior.  Thus  it  results  that  our  cunning  ad- 
versary cannot  in  any  way  circumvent  a  young 
and  inexperienced  monk,  or  get  the  better  of 
his  ignorance,  or  by  any  craft  deceive  one 
whom  he  sees  to  be  protected  not  by  his  own 
discretion  but  by  that  of  his  senior,  and  who 
cannot  be  persuaded  to  hide  from  his  senior 
those  suggestions  of  his  which  like  fiery  darts 
he  has  shot  into  his  heart;  since  the  devil, 
subtle  as  he  is,  cannot  ruin  or  destroy  a  junior 
unless  he  has  enticed  him  either  through  pride 
or  through  shame  to  conceal  his  thoughts. 
For  they  lay  it  down  as  an  universal  and  clear 
proof  that  a  thought  is  from  the  devil  if  we 
are  ashamed  to  disclose  it  to  the  senior.2 


CHAPTER  X. 

How    thorough  is  the  obedience  of  the  juniors  even  in  those 
things  which  are  matters  of  common  necessity. 

Next,  the  rule  is  kept  with  such  strict  obe- 
dience that,  without  the  knowledge  and  per- 
mission of  their  superior,  the  juniors  not  only 
do  not  dare  to  leave  their  cell  but  on  their 
own  authority  do  not  venture  to  satisfy  their 
common  and  natural  needs.  And  so  they  are 
quick  to  fulfil  without  any  discussion  all  those 
things  that  are  ordered  by  him,  as  if  they  were 
commanded  by  God  from  heaven ;  s  so  that 
sometimes,  when  impossibilities  are  com- 
manded them,  they  undertake  them  with  such 
faith  and  devotion  as  to  strive  with  all  their 
powers  and  without  the  slightest  hesitation  to 
fulfil  them  and  carry  them  out ;  and  out  of  rev- 
erence for  their  senior  they  do  not  even  con- 
sider whether  a  command  is  an  impossibility.4 
But  of  their  obedience  I  omit  at  present  to 
speak  more  particularly,  for  we  propose  to 
speak  of  it  in  the  proper  place  a  little  later  on, 
with  instances  of  it,  if  through  your  prayers 
the  Lord  carry  us  safely  through.  We  now  pro- 
ceed to  the  other  regulations,  passing  over  all 
account  of  those  which  cannot  be  imposed  on 


2  Compare  the  Conferences,  Book  1 1,  c.  x.,  where  Cassian  returns 
to  the  same  subject.  A  similar  rule  that  the  brethren  are  to  lay  bare 
all  the  secrets  of  their  hearts  to  their  superior  is  given  by  S.  Basil  in 
the  Longer  Monastic  Rules,  Q.  xxvi.,  and  in  the  Rule  of  S.  Isaiah 
(cc.  vi.,  xliii.),  printed  in  Holsten's  Codex  Regularzim,  Vol.  I. 

3  Cf.  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict,  c.  v.,  where  it  is  said  that  "the 
first  degree  of  humility  is  ready  obedience.  This  is  peculiar  to  those 
who  .  .  .  prefer  nothing  to  Christ,  and  fulfil  the  injunctions  of  their 
superiors  as  promptly  as  if  God  Himself  had  given  them  the  com- 
mand," etc. 

*  The  Rule  of  S.  Benedict  has  a  chapter  to  explain  what  is  to  be 
done  if  a  brother  is  commanded  to  perform  impossibilities  Cc.  lxviii.). 
"  If  a  brother  is  commanded  to  do  anything  that  is  difficult,  or  even 
impossible,  let  him  receive  the  command  with  all  meekness  and  obedi- 
ence ;  meanwhile,  should  he  see  that  he  is  utterly  unequal  to  the 
task  laid  upon  him,  let  him  represent  the  matter  to  his  superior  calmly 
and  respectfully,  without  pride,  resistance,  or  contradiction.  If  the 
superior,  after  hearing  what  he  has  to  say,  still  insists  on  the  execu- 
tion of  the  command,  let  the  junior  be  persuaded  that  it  is  for  his 
spiritual  good,  and  accordingly,  trusting  in  God's  assistance,  let  him 
for  His  love  undertake  the  work." 


222 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF  JOHN   CASSIAN.^ 


or  kept  in  the  monasteries  in  this  country, 
as  we  promised  to  do  in  our  Preface ;  for  in- 
stance, how  they  never  use  woollen  garments, 
but  only  cotton,  and  these  not  double,  changes 
of  which  each  superior  gives  out  to  the  ten 
monks  under  his  care  when  he  sees  that  those 
which  they  are  wearing  are  dirty. 


CHAPTER  XL 

The  kind  of  food  which  is   considered  the  greatest  delicacy  by 
them. 

I  pass  over,  too,  that  difficult  and  sublime 
sort  of  self-control,  through  which  it  is  con- 
sidered the  greatest  luxury  if  the  plant  called 
cherlock,1  prepared  with  salt  and  steeped  in 
water,  is  set  on  the  table  for  the  repast  of  the 
brethren;  and  many  other  things  like  this, 
which  in  this  country  neither  the  climate  nor 
the  weakness  of  our  constitution  would  permit. 
And  I  shall  only  follow  up  those  matters  which 
cannot  be  interfered  with  by  any  weakness  of 
the  flesh  or  local  situation,  if  only  no  weak- 
ness of  mind  or  coldness  of  spirit  gets  rid  of 
them. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

How  they  leave  off   every  kind  of  work  at   the  sound  of  some 
one  knocking  at  the  door,  in  their  eagerness  to  answer  at  once. 

And  so,  sitting  in  their  cells  and  devoting 
their  energies  equally  to  work  and  to  medita- 
tion, when  they  hear  the  sound  of  some  one 
knocking  at  the  door  and  striking  on  the  cells 
of  each,  summoning  them  to  prayer  or  some 
work,  every  one  eagerly  dashes  out  from  his 
cell,  so  that  one  who  is  practising  the  writer's 
art,  although  he  may  have  just  begun  to  form 
a  letter,  does  not  venture  to  finish  it,  but  runs 
out  with  the  utmost  speed,  at  the  very  moment 
when  the  sound  of  the  knocking  reaches  his 
ears,  without  even  waiting  to  finish  the  letter 
he  has  begun;  but,  leaving  the  lines  of  the 
letter  incomplete,  he  aims  not  at  abridging 
and  saving  his  labour,  but  rather  hastens  with 
the  utmost  earnestness  and  zeal  to  attain  the 
virtue  of  obedience,  which  they  put  not  merely 
before  manual  labour  and  reading  and  silence 
and  quietness  in  the  cell,  but  even  before  all 
virtues,  so  that  they  consider  that  everything 
should  be  postponed  to  it,  and  are  content  to 
undergo  any  amount  of  inconvenience  if  only 
it  may  be  seen  that  they  have  in  no  way  neg- 
lected this  virtue.2 


1  Labsanion.  Cf.  below,  c.  xxiii.,  where  cherlock  is  mentioned 
again,  together  with  other  delicacies  (!)  of  the  Egyptians. 

2  Cf.  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict,  c.  v.  :  "Those  who  choose  to  tread 
the  path  that  leads  to  life  eternal  immediately  quit  their  private  occu- 
pations at  the  call  of  obedience,  and,  renouncing  their  own  will  so 
far  as  to  cast  away  unfinished  out  of  their  hands  whatever  they  may 
be  occupied  with,  hasten  to  execute  the  orders  of  their  superiors,"  etc. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

How  wrong  it  is  considered  for  any  one  to  say  that  anything, 
however  trifling,  is  his  own. 

Among  their  other  practices  I  fancy  that  it 
is  unnecessary  even  to  mention  this  virtue, 
viz.,  that  no  one  is  allowed  to  possess  a  box  or 
basket  as  his  special  property,  nor  any  such 
thing  which  he  could  keep  as  his  own  and 
secure  with  his  own  seal,  as  we  are  well  aware 
that  they  are  in  all  respects  stripped  so  bare 
that  they  have  nothing  whatever  except  their 
shirt,  cloak,  shoes,  sheepskin,  and  rush  mat;8 
for  in  other  monasteries  as  well,  where  some 
indulgence  and  relaxation  is  granted,  we  see 
that  this  rule  is  still  most  strictly  kept,  so  that 
no  one  ventures  to  say  even  in  word  that  any- 
thing is  his  own:  and  it  is  a  great  offence  if 
there  drops  from  the  mouth  of  a  monk  such 
an  expression  as  "my  book,"  "  my  tablets," 
"  my  pen,"  "  my  coat,"  or  "  my  shoes.;  "  and 
for  this  he  would  have  to  make  satisfaction 
by  a  proper  penance,  if  by  accident  some  such 
expression  escaped  his  lips  through  thought- 
lessness or  ignorance. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

How,  even  if  a  large  sum  of  money  is  amassed  by  the  labour 
of  each,  still  no  one  may  venture  to  exceed  the  moderate 
limit  of  what  is  appointed  as  adequate. 

And  although  each  one  of  them  may  bring 
in  daily  by  his  work  and  labour  so  great  a 
return  to  the  monastery  that  he  could  out  of 
it  not  only  satisfy  his  own  moderate  demands 
but  could  also  abundantly  supply  the  wants  of 
many,  yet  he  is  no  way  puffed  up,  nor  does  he 
flatter  himself  on  account  of  his  toil  and  this 
large  gain  from  his  labour,  but,  except  two 
biscuits,4  which  are  sold  there  for  scarcely 
threepence,  no  one  thinks  that  he  has  a  right 
to  anything  further.  And  among  them  there 
is  nothing  (and  I  am  ashamed  to  say  this,  and 
heartily  wish  it  was  unknown  in  our  own  mon- 
asteries) which  is  claimed  by  any  of  them,  I 
will  not  say  in  deed  but  even  in  thought,  as 

3  Psiathium.  The  rush  mats  which  served  as  a  seat  by  day  and 
a  bed  by  night  for  the  monks.  See  Book  V.  xxxv.,  and  the  Confer- 
ences I.  xxiii. ;  XV.  i.  ;  XVII.  iii.  ;  XVIII.xi.  S.  Jerome  mentions 
it  in  his  preface  to  the  Rule  of  Pachomius  as  one  of  the  very  few 
articles  contained  in  the  cells  of  the  monks  of  Tabenna.  "They 
have  nothing  in  their  cells  except  a  mat  and  what  is  described  below: 
two  '  lebitonaria,'  a  kind  of  garment  without  sleeves  which  the  Egyp- 
tian monks  use  (the  colobium,  or  shirt),  one  old  one  for  sleeping  or 
working,  a  linen  garment  and  two  hoods,  a  sheepskin,  a  linen  girdle, 
shoes,  and  a  staff." 

4  Paxamatium,  a  biscuit.  The  word  comes  from  the  Greek 
7rafafia8co>',  and  is  said  to  be  derived  from  the  name  of  a  baker, 
nafaMO?  (see  Liddell  and  Scott,  c.  v.).  These  biscuits  formed  an  im- 
portant part  of  the  diet  of  the  Egyptian  monks,  as  we  see  from  the 
Conferences,  where  they  are  often  mentioned;  e.g.,  II.  xi.,  xix., 
xxiv.,  xxvi. ;  XII.  xv. ;  XIX.  iv. 


BOOK    IV. 


223 


his  special  property.  And  though  he  believes 
that  the  whole  granary  of  the  monastery  forms 
his  substance,  and,  as  lord  of  all,  devotes  his 
whole  care  and  energy  to  it  all,  yet  never- 
theless, in  order  to  maintain  that  excellent 
state  of  want  and  poverty  which  he  has  secured 
and  which  he  strives  to  preserve  to  the  very 
last  in  unbroken  perfection,  he  regards  him- 
self as  a  foreigner  and  an  alien  to  them  all,  so 
that  he  conducts  himself  as  a  stranger  and  a 
sojourner  in  this  world,  and  considers  himself 
a  pupil  of  the  monastery  and  a  servant  instead 
of  imagining  that  he  is  lord  and  master  of 
anything. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Of  the  excessive  desire  of  possession  among  us. 

To  this  what  shall  we  wretched  creatures 
say,  who  though  living  in  Ccenobia  and  estab- 
lished under  the  government  and  care  of  an 
Abbot  yet  carry  about  our  own  keys,  and 
trampling  under  foot  all  feeling  of  shame  and 
disgrace  which  should  spring  from  our  pro- 
fession, are  not  ashamed  actually  to  wear 
openly  upon  our  fingers  rings  with  which  to 
seal  what  we  have  stored  up ;  and  in  whose 
case  not  merely  boxes  and  baskets,  but  not 
even  chests  and  closets  are  sufficient  for  those 
things  which  we  collect  or  which  we  reserved 
when  we  forsook  the  world;  and  who  some- 
times get  so  angry  over  trifles  and  mere  noth- 
ings (to  which  however  we  lay  claim  as  if  they 
were  our  own)  that  if  any  one  dares  to  lay  a 
finger  on  any  of  them,  we  are  so  filled  with  rage 
against  him  that  we  cannot  keep  the  wrath  of 
our  heart  from  being  expressed  on  our  lips  and 
in  bodily  excitement.  But,  passing  by  our 
faults  and  treating  with  silence  those  things  of 
which  it  is  a  shame  even  to  speak,  according 
to  this  saying:  "My  mouth  shall  not  speak  the 
deeds  of  men,"  x  let  us  in  accordance  with  the 
method  of  our  narration  which  we  have  begun 
proceed  to  those  virtues  which  are  practised 
among  them,  and  which  we  ought  to  aim  at  with 
all  earnestness;  and  let  us  briefly  and  hastily 
set  down  the  actual  rules  and  systems  that 
afterwards,  coming  to  some  of  the  deeds  and 
acts  of  the  elders  which  we  propose  carefully 
to  preserve  for  recollection,  we  may  support 
by  the  strongest  testimonies  what  we  have  set 
forth  in  our  treatise,  and  still  further  confirm 
everything  that  we  have  said  by  examples  and 
instances  from  life. 


1  Ps.  xvi.  (xvii.)  4. 

2  From  this  passage  we  gather  that  in  Egypt  two  mottks  were  often 
the  joint  occupants  of  a  single  cell.     Cf.  Il.xii.  and  Conference  XX. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

On  the  rules  for  various  rebukes. 

If  then  any  one  by  accident  breaks  an 
earthenware  jar  (which  they  call  "baucalis"), 
he  can  only  expiate  his  carelessness  by  public 
penance;  and  when  all  the  brethren  are  assem- 
bled for  service  he  must  lie  on  the  ground 
and  ask  for  absolution  until  the  service  of  the 
prayers  is  finished;  and  will  obtain  it  when 
by  the  Abbot's  command  he  is  bidden  to  rise 
from  the  ground.  The  same  satisfaction  must 
be  given  by  one  who  when  summoned  to  some 
work  or  to  the  usual  service  comes  rather  late, 
or  who  when  singing  a  Psalm  hesitates  ever  so 
little.  Similarly  if  he  answers  unnecessarily 
or  roughly  or  impertinently,  if  he  is  careless 
in  carrying  out  the  services  enjoined  to  him, 
if  he  makes  a  slight  complaint,  if  preferring 
reading  to  work  or  obedience  he  is  slow  in 
performing  his  appointed  duties,  if  when  ser- 
vice is  over  he  does  not  make  haste  to  go  back 
at  once  to  his  cell,  if  he  stops  for  ever  so 
short  a  time  with  some  one  else,  if  he  goes 
anywhere  else  even  for  a  moment,  if  he  takes 
any  one  else  by  the  hand,  if  he  ventures  to  dis- 
cuss anything  however  small  with  one  who  is 
not  the  joint-occupant  of  his  cell,2  if  he  prays 
with  one  who  is  suspended  from  prayer,  if  he 
sees  any  of  his  relations  or  friends  in  the  world 
and  talks  with  them  without  his  senior,  if  he 
tries  to  receive  a  letter  from  any  one  or  to  write 
back  without  his  Abbot's  leave.3  To  such  an 
extent  does  spiritual  censure  proceed  and  in 
such  matters  and  faults  like  these.  But  as 
for  other  things  which  when  indiscriminately 
committed  among  us  are  treated  by  us  too  as 
blameworthy,  viz.  :  open  wrangling,  manifest 
contempt,  arrogant  contradictions,  going  out 
from  the  monastery  freely  and  without  check, 
familiarity  with  women,  wrath,  quarrelling, 
jealousies,    disputes,   claiming  something   as 


3  Many  of  these  faults  are  noticed  in  the  Rule  of  Pachomius  as 
deserving  censure  e.g.,  unpunctuality  at  or  carelessness  in  service 
(c.  viii.  ix.),  breaking  anything  (c.  cxxv.),  murmuring  (lxxxvii.),  taking 
the  hand  of  another  (xliv.).  So  also  in  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict 
(cc.  xliii.-xlvi.)  similar  directions  are  given,  while  in  c.  xliv.  the 
nature  of  the  penance  is  more  fully  described.  He  who  in  pun- 
ishment of  a  grievous  fault  has  been  excluded  from  the  Refectory 
and  the  Church,  shall  lie  prostrate  at  the  door  of  the  latter  at  the  end 
of  each  office,  and  shall  there  remain  in  silence  with  his  forehead 
touching  the  ground,  until  the  brethren  retiring  from  church  have  all 
walked  over  him.  This  penance  he  shall  continue  to  perform  till  it 
be  announced  to  him  that  he  has  made  due  satisfaction.  When  com- 
manded by  the  Abbot  to  appear  before  him,  he  shall  go  and  cast  him- 
self at  his  feet  and  then  at  the  feet  of  all  the  brethren,  begging  of  them 
to  pray  for  him.  He  shall  then  be  admitted  to  the  choir,  if  the 
Abbot  so  order,  and  shall  take  there  whatever  place  he  may  assign 
him  :  but  let  him  not  presume  to  intone  a  Psalm,  read  a  lesson  or 
perform  any  similar  duty,  without  the  special  permission  of  the 
Abbot.  He  shall,  moreover,  prostrate  himself  in  his  place  in  choir 
at  the  end  of  every  office,  until  the  Abbot  tells  him  to  discontinue 
this  penance.  Those  who  for  light  faults  are  excluded  merely  from 
the  common  table,  shall  make  satisfaction  in  the  church  according  as 
the  Abbot  shall  direct,  and  shall  continue  to  do  so  until  he  gives 
them  his  blessing  and  tells  them  that  they  have  made  sufficient  atone- 
ment. 


224 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


one's  own  property,  the  infection  of  covetous- 
ness,  the  desire  and  acquisition  of  unnecessary 
things  which  are  not  possessed  by  the  rest  of 
the  brethren,  taking  food  between  meals  and 
by  stealth,  and  things  like  these  —  they  are 
dealt  with  not  by  that  spiritual  censure  of 
which  we  spoke,  but  by  stripes;  or  are  atoned 
for  by  expulsion. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Of  those  who  introduced  the  plan  that  the  holy  Lessons 
should  be  read  in  the  Ccenobia  while  the  brethren  are  eating, 
and  of  the  strict  silence  which  is  kept  among  the  Egyptians. 

But  we  have  been  informed  that  the  plan 
that,  while  the  brethren  are  eating,  the  holy 
lessons  should  be  read  in  the  Ccenobia  did 
not  originate  in  the  Egyptian  system  but  in 
the  Cappadocian.  And  there  is  no  doubt  that 
they  meant  to  establish  it  not  so  much  for  the 
sake  of  the  spiritual  exercise  as  for  the  sake 
of  putting  a  stop  to  unnecessary  and  idle  con- 
versation, and  especially  discussions,  which  so 
often  arise  at  meals ;  since  they  saw  that  these 
could  not  be  prevented  among  them  in  any 
other  way.1  For  among  the  Egyptians  and 
especially  those  of  Tabenna  so  strict  a  silence 
is  observed  by  all  that  when  so  large  a  number 
of  the  brethren  has  sat  down  together  to  a 
meal,  no  one  ventures  to  talk  even  in  a  low 
tone  except  the  dean,  who  however  if  he  sees 
that  anything  is  wanted  to  be  put  on  or  taken 
off  the  table,  'signifies  it  by  a  sign  rather 
than  a  word.  And  while  they  are  eating,  the 
rule  of  this  silence  is  so  strictly  kept  that  with 
their  hoods  drawn  down  over  their  eyelids 
(to  prevent  their  roving  looks  having  the  op- 
portunity of  wandering  inquisitively)  they  can 
see  nothing  except  the  table,  and  the  food  that 
is  put  on  it,  and  which  they  take  from  it;  so 
that  no  one  notices  what  another  is  eating.2 


1  It  is  quite  in  keeping  with  what  is  here  said  by  Cassian  that  in 
the  Rule  of  Pachomius  there  is  no  mention  of  reading  at  meals,  but 
only  of  the  strict  silence  observed,  so  that  anything  wanted  might  not 
be  asked  for  but  only  indicated  by  a  sign  (cc.  xxxi.,  xxxiii.),  while  in 
the  shorter  Monastic  Rules  of  S.  Basil  the  custom  of  reading  at 
meals  is  distinctly  alluded  to  (Q.  clxxx.).  It  is  of  course  also  ordered 
in  most  of  the  later  monastic  rules,  e.g.  that  of  Cesarius  of  Aries 
"  ad  Monachos  "  c.  xlix.,  "  ad  Virgines  "  c.  xvi. ;  that  of  S.  Aure- 
lian,  c.  xlix.;  S.  Isidore,  c.  x.,  and  S.  Benedict,  c.  xxxviii.  The 
regulations  in  the  last  mentioned  are  as  follows :  —  "A  book  should 
be  read  in  the  Refectory  while  the  brethren  are  at  meals.  Let  no 
one  presume  to  read  of  his  own  accord ;  but  let  there  be  one  appointed 
to  perform  that  duty,  who,  commencing  on  Sunday,  will  read  during 
the  entire  week.  .  .  Profound  silence  shall  be  observed  during 
meals,  so  that  no  voice  save  that  of  the  reader  may  be  heard.  The 
brethren  will  so  help  each  other  to  what  is  necessary  as  regards  food 
and  drink  that  no  one  may  have  occasion  to  ask  for  anything  ;  should, 
however,  anything  be  wanted,  let  it  be  asked  for  by  sign  rather  than 
word.  Let  no  one  presume  to  make  any  observation  either  on  what 
is  being  read  or  on  any  other  subject,  lest  occasion  be  given  to  the 
enemy.  The  Prior,  however,  should  he  think  fit,  may  say  a  few 
words  to  edify  the  brethren." 

2  So  Pachomius  (c.  xxix.).  While  they  are  eating  they  shall  sit  in 
their  right  places  and  shall  cover  their  heads. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

How  it  is  against  the  rule  for  any  one  to  take  anything  to  eat  or 
drink  except  at  the  common  table. 

In  between  their  regular  meals  in  common 
they  are  especially  careful  that  no  one  should 
presume  to  gratify  his  palate  with  any  food :  3 
so  that  when  they  are  walking  casually 
through  gardens  or  orchards,  when  the  fruit 
hanging  enticingly  on  the  trees  not  only  knocks 
against  their  breasts  as  they  pass  through,  but 
is  also  lying  on  the  ground  and  offering  itself 
to  be  trampled  under  foot,  and  (as  it  is  all 
ready  to  be  gathered)  would  easily  be  able  to 
entice  those  who  see  it  to  gratify  their  appetite, 
and  by  the  chance  offered  to  them  and  the 
quantity  of  the  fruit,  to  excite  even  the  most 
severe  and  abstemious  to  long  for  it;  still  they 
consider  it  wrong  not  merely  to  taste  a  single 
fruit,  but  even  to  touch  one  with  the  hand, 
except  what  is  put  on  the  table  openly  for  the 
common  meal  of  all,  and  supplied  publicly 
by  the  steward's  catering  through  the  service 
of  the  brethren,  for  their  enjoyment. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

How  throughout  Palestine  and  Mesopotamia  a  daily   service 
is  undertaken  by  the  brethren. 

In  order  that  we  may  not  appear  to  omit  any 
of  the  Institutes  of  the  Ccenobia  I  think  that 
it  should  be  briefly  mentioned  that  in  other 
countries  as  well  there  is  a  daily  service  un- 
dertaken by  the  brethren.  For  throughout  the 
whole  of  Mesopotamia,  Palestine,  and  Cappa- 
docia  and  all  the  East  the  brethren  succeed 
one  another  in  turn  every  week  for  the  per- 
formance of  certain  duties,  so  that  the  number 
serving  is  told  off  according  to  the  whole  num- 
ber of  monks  in  the  Ccenobium.  And  they 
hasten  to  fulfil  these  duties  with  a  zeal  and 
humility  such  as  no  slave  bestows  on  his  ser- 
vice even  to  a  most  harsh  and  powerful  mas- 
ter; so  that  not  satisfied  only  with  these 
services  which  are  rendered  by  canonical  rule, 
they  actually  rise  by  night  in  their  zeal  and 
relieve  those  whose  special  duty  this  is;  and 
secretly  anticipating  them  try  to  finish  those 
duties  which  these  others  would  have  to  do. 
But  each  one  who  undertakes  these  weeks  is 
on  duty  and  has   to  serve   until    supper  on 


3  Similarly  we  find  in  the  Rule  of  Pachomius  that  no  one  is  allowed 
to  keep  any  food  in  his  ceil  besides  what  he  receives  from  the  steward 
(c.  lxxix.) ;  and  the  Benedictine  Rule  also  says:  "Let  no  one  pre- 
sume to  take  anv  food  or  drink  out  of  the  regular  hours  of  meals  " 
(c.  xliii).  Cf.  also  the  Rule  of  Pachomius  cc.  lxxv.  and  lxxviii.,  S. 
Basil's  longer  Monastic  Rules  Q.  xv.,'A\(/a.TO  PpupaTuiv  napa. 
Kaipov  ;  e77i  7r/V6icrTov  xij?  r)fj.ipa<;  d7rbcn.Tos  ecrrio,  the  Rule  of  Aure- 
lian  (c.  lii. ),  that  of  Isidore  (c.  xiii.),  etc 


BOOK   IV. 


225 


Sunday,  and  when  this  is  done,  his  duty  for 
the  whole  week  is  finished,  so  that,  when  all 
the  brethren  come  together  to  chant  the  Psalms 
(which  according  to  custom  they  sing  before 
going  to  bed)  those  whose  turn  is  over  wash 
the  feet  of  all  in  turn,  seeking  faithfully  from 
them  the  reward  of  this  blessing  for  their  work 
during  the  whole  week,  that  the  prayers  offered 
up  by  all  the  brethren  together  may  accompany 
them  as  they  fulfil  the  command  of  Christ, 
the  prayer,  to  wit,  that  intercedes  for  their 
ignorances  and  for  their  sins  committed  through 
human  frailty,  and  may  commend  to  God  the 
complete  service  of  their  devotion  like  some 
rich  offering.  And  so  on  Monday  after  the 
Mattin  hymns  they  hand  over  to  others  who 
take  their  place  the  vessels  and  utensils  with 
which  they  have  ministered,  which  these  re- 
ceive and  keep  with  the  utmost  care  and  anxi- 
ety, that  none  of  them  may  be  injured  or 
destroyed,  as  they  believe  that  even  for  the 
smallest  vessels  they  must  give  an  account,  as 
sacred  things,  not  only  to  a  present  steward, 
but  to  the  Lord,  if  by  chance  any  of  them  is 
injured  through  their  carelessness.  And  what 
limit  there  is  to  this  discipline,  and  what  fidel- 
ity and  care  there  is  in  keeping  it  up,  you  may 
see  from  one  instance  which  I  will  give  as  an 
example.  For  while  we  are  anxious  to  satisfy 
that  fervour  of  yours  through  which  you  ask 
for  a  full  account  of  everything,  and  want  even 
what  you  know  perfectly  well  to  be  repeated 
to  you  in  this  treatise,  we  are  also  afraid  of 
exceeding  the  limits  of  brevity.1 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Of  the  three  lentil  beans  which  the  Steward  found. 

During  the  week  of  a  certain  brother  the 
steward  passing  by  saw  lying  on  the  ground 
three  lentil  beans  which  had  slipped  out  of  the 
hand  of  the  monk  on  duty  for  the  week  *  as 
he  was  hastily  preparing  them  for  cooking, 
together  with  the  water  in  which  he  was  wash- 
ing them;  and  immediately  he  consulted  the 
Abbot  on  the  subject;  and  by  him  the  monk 
was  adjudged  a  pilferer  and  careless  about 
sacred  property,  and  so  was  suspended  from 


J-  The  weekly  officers  here  spoken  of  were  termed  "  Hebdoma- 
darii  "  (see  the  next  chapter).  According  to  most  rules  their  duties 
included  cooking,  serving,  and  reading  at  meals.  They  are  men- 
tioned in  S.  Jerome's  preface  to  the  Rule  of  Pachomius  (cf.  also 
Ep.  xxii.  ad  Eustochium),  but  it  would  appear  from  what  Cassian  says 
below  in  c.  xxii.  that  in  Egypt  the  office  of  cook  was  assigned  to 
some  one  brother  and  not  undertaken  by  all  in  turn.  According  to 
Cassian  they  entered  upon  office  on  Monday  morning,  but  the  Bene- 
dictine (c.  xxxv.)  and  other  rules  speak  of  them  as  beginning  their 
duties  on  Sunday  morning.  The  custom  of  washing  the  feet  of  the 
brethren,  which  Cassian  here  describes,  is  also  mentioned  by  S. 
Benedict.  1.  c. 

2  Hebdomadarius. 


prayer.  And  the  offence  of  his  negligence 
was  only  pardoned  when  he  had  atoned  for  it 
by  public  penance.  For  they  believe  not  only 
that  they  themselves  are  not  their  own,  but  also 
that  everything  that  they  possess  is  conse- 
crated to  the  Lord.  Wherefore  if  anything 
whatever  has  once  been  brought  into  the  mon- 
astery they  hold  that  it  ought  to  be  treated 
with  the  utmost  reverence  as  an  holy  thing. 
And  they  attend  to  and  arrange  everything 
with  great  fidelity,  even  in  the  case  of 
things  which  are  considered  unimportant  or 
regarded  as  common  and  paltry,  so  that  if  they 
change  their  position  and  put  them  in  a  better 
place,  or  if  they  fill  a  bottle  with  water,  or 
give  anybody  something  to  drink  out  of  it,  or 
if  they  remove  a  little  dust  from  the  oratory  or 
from  their  cell  they  believe  with  implicit  faith 
that  they  will  receive  a  reward  from  the  Lord. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Of  the  spontaneous  service  of  some  of  the  brethren. 

We  have  been  told  of  brethren  in  whose 
week  there  was  such  a  scarcity  of  wood  that 
they  had  not  enough  to  prepare  the  usual 
food  for  the  brethren ;  and  when  it  had  been 
ordered  by  the  Abbot's  authority  that  until 
more  could  be  brought  and  fetched,  they 
should  content  themselves  with  dried  food,3 
though  this  was  agreed  to  by  all  and  no  one 
could  expect  any  cooked  food;  still  these -men 
as  if  they  were  cheated  of  the  fruit  and  reward 
of  their  labour  and  service,  if  they  did  not 
prepare  the  food  for  their  brethren  according 
to  custom  in  the  order  of  their  turn  —  imposed 
upon  themselves  such  uncalled-for  labour  and 
care  that  in  those  dry  and  sterile  regions 
where  wood  cannot  possibly  be  procured  un- 
less it  is  cut  from  the  fruit  trees  (for  there  are 
no  wild  shrubs  found  there  as  with  us),  they 
wander  about  through  the  wide  deserts,  and 
traversing  the  wilderness  which  stretches 
towards  the  Dead  Sea,4  collect  in  their  lap 
and  the  folds  of  their  dress  the  scanty  stubble 
and  brambles  which  the  wind  carries  hither 
and  thither,  and  so  by  their  voluntary  service 
prepare  all  their  usual  food  for  the  brethren, 
so  that  they  suffer  nothing  to  be  diminished  of 
the  ordinary  supply;  discharging  these  duties 
of  theirs  towards  their  brethren  with  such  fidel- 
ity that  though  the  scarcity  of  wood  and  the 


3  Xerophagia  (^rfpo<j>ayia),  "dried  food,"  distinguished  from 
what  is  raw  {omophagia)  in  the  next  chapter.  Cf.  for  the  word, 
Tertullian  on  Fasting  c.  i.  and  xvii. 

4  This  shows  that  Cassian  is  here  writing  about  the  monks  of 
Palestine,  not  those  of  Egypt,  who  (according  to  the  next  chapter) 
had  a  permanent  cook-  There  is  a  further  allusion  to  and  description 
of  this  desert  in  the  Conference  VI.  i. 


226 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


Abbot's  order  would  be  a  fair  excuse  for  them, 
yet  still  out  of  regard  for  their  profit  and  re- 
ward they  will  not  take  advantage  of  this 
liberty. 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

Of  the  system  of  the  Egyptians,  which  is  appointed  for  the 
daily  service  of  the  brethren. 

These  things  have  been  told  in  accordance 
with  the  system,  as  we  remarked  before,  of 
the  whole  East,  which  also  we  say  should  be 
observed  as  a  matter  of  course  in  our  own 
country.  But  among  the  Egyptians  whose 
chief  care  is  for  work  there  is  not  the  mutual 
change  of  weekly  service,  for  fear  lest  owing 
to  the  requirements  of  office  they  might  all 
be  hindered  from  keeping  the  rule  of  work. 
But  one  of  the  most  approved  brethren  is  given 
the  care  of  the  larder  and  kitchen,  and  he 
takes  charge  of  that  office  for  good  and  all 
as  long  as  his  strength  and  years  permit.  For 
he  is  exhausted  by  no  great  bodily  labour, 
because  no  great  care  is  expended  among  them 
in  preparing  food  or  in  cooking,  as  they  so 
largely  make  use  of  dried  and  uncooked  food,1 
and  among  them  the  leaves  of  leeks  cut  each 
month,  and  cherlock,  table  salt,2  olives,  tiny 
little  salt  fish  which  they  call  sardines,3  form 
the  greatest  delicacy. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Of   the   obedience  of   Abbot  John  by  which   he  was   exalted 
even  to  the  grace  of  prophecy. 

And  since  this  book  is  about  the  training  of 
one  who  renounces  this  world,  whereby,  mak- 
ing a  beginning  of  true  humility  and  perfect 
obedience,  he  may  be  enabled  to  ascend  the 
heights  of  the  other  virtues  as  well,  I  think  it 
well  to  set  down  just  by  way  of  specimen,  as 
we  promised,  some  of  the  deeds  of  the  elders 
whereby  they  excelled  in  this  virtue,  selecting 
a  few  only  out  of  many  instances,  that,  if  any 
are  anxious  to  aim  at  still  greater  heights, 
they  may  not  only  receive  from  these  an  in- 
citement towards  the  perfect  life,  but  may  also 
be  furnished  with  a  model  of  what  they  pur- 


1  The  distinction  between  the  xeropliagia  and  omophagia  is 
shown  by  the  following  passage  from  S.  Jerome's  Life  of  Hilarion, 
describing  his  food:  "  From  his  twenty-first  year  to  his  twenty- 
seventh  for  three  years  ....  his  food  was  dry  bread  and  water 
(xeropliagia).  Further  from  his  twenty-seventh  to  his  thirtieth  year 
he  supported  himself  on  wild  herbs,  and  the  raw  roots  of  certain 
plants  (omophagia)." 

1  Sal/rictum,  "  rubbed  salt,"  i.e.,  table  salt  as  distinct  from 
rough  or  block  salt. 

3  Mcenome7iia  (Petschenig)  or  Mcenidia  (Gazasus).  The  word 
comes  from  the  Greek  fxa.ivoy.iva.  or  fj.aiviSi.ov,  dimin.  from  fj-aivrj,  a 
small  salted  fish. 


pose.  Wherefore,  to  make  this  book  as  short 
as  possible  we  will  produce  and  set  down  two 
or  three  out  of  the  whole  number  of  the 
Fathers;  and  first  of  all  Abbot  John  who 
lived  near  Lycon 4  which  is  a  town  in  the 
Thebaid ;  and  who  was  exalted  even  to  the 
grace  of  prophecy  for  his  admirable  obedience, 
and  was  so  celebrated  all  the  world  over  that 
he  was  by  his  merits  rendered  famous  even 
among  kings  of  this  world.  For  though,  as  we 
said,  he  lived  in  the  most  remote  parts  of  the 
Thebaid,  still  the  Emperor  Theodosius  did 
not  venture  to  declare  war  against  the  most 
powerful  tyrants  before  he  was  encouraged  by 
his  utterances  and  replies:  trusting  in  which 
as  if  they  had  been  brought  to  him  from 
heaven  he  gained  victories  over  his  foes  in 
battles  which  seemed  hopeless.5 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Of  the  dry  stick  which,  at  the  bidding  of  his  senio^  Abbot 
John  kept  on  watering  as  if  it  would  grow. 

And  so  this  blessed  John  from  his  youth  up 
even  to  a  full  and  ripe  age  of  manhood  was 
subject  to  his  senior  as  long  as  he  continued 
living  in  this  world,  and  carried  out  his  com- 
mands with  such  humility  that  his  senior  him- 
self was  utterly  astounded  at  his  obedience ; 
and  as  he  wanted  to  make  sure  whether  this 
virtue  came  from  genuine  faith  and  profound 
simplicity  of  heart,  or  whether  it  was  put  on 
and  as  it  were  constrained  and  only  shown  in 
the  presence  of  the  bidder,  he  often  laid  upon 
him  many  superfluous  and  almost  unnecessary 
or  even  impossible  commands.  From  which 
I  will  select  three  to  show  to  those  who  wish 
to  know  how  perfect  was  his  disposition  and 
subjection.  For  the  old  man  took  from  his 
woodstack  a  stick  which  had  previously  been 
cut  and  got  ready  to  make  the  fire  with,  and 
which,  as  no  opportunity  for  cooking  had 
come,  was  lying  not  merely  dry  but  even 
mouldy  from  the  lapse  of  time.  And  when 
he  had  stuck  it  into  the  ground  before  his  very 
eyes,  he  ordered  him  to  fetch  water  and  to 


4  Lycon  or  Lvcopoiis  in  the  Thebaid  is  the  modern  El  Syout  on 
the  west  banks  of  the  Nile,  S.E.  of  Hermopolis  (  =  Minieh). 

5  This  John  of  Lycopolis  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  hermits 
of  the  fourth  century.  Originally  a  carpenter,  he  retired  at  the  age 
of  twenty-five  into  the  wilderness,  and  after  the  death  of  his  instructor 
settled  near  Lycopolis.  Here,  as  Cassian  tells  us,  he  received  as  a 
reward  for  his  obedience  the  gift  of  prophecy ;  and  was  consulted  by 
crowds  who  came  to  him  for  this  purpose  and  among  others  by  the 
Emperor  Theodosius,  to  whom  he  foretold  (i)  his  victory  over  the 
usurper  Maximus  (a.d.  388),  and  (2)  his  success  against  Eugenius 
in  a.d.  395.  He  is  mentioned  again  by  Cassian  in  the  Conferences 
I.  xxi.,  XXIV.  xxvi.,  etc.  A  full  account  of  him  is  given  by  Rufinus 
in  his  history  of  the  monks  c.  i.,  and  by  Palladius  in  the  Lausiac 
History  43-60;  he  is  also  mentioned  by  Augustine  De  Civitate  Dei, 
Book  V.c.  xxvi;  De  Cura  pro  mortuisgerenda,  c.  xvii.,  and  Jerome 
Ep.  cxxxiii.  ad  Ctesiphontem,  as  well  as  by  Theodoret  H.E.  V.  xxiv. 
and  Sozomen  H.E.  VI.  xxvhi. 


BOOK    IV. 


227 


water  it  twice  a  day  that  by  this  daily  watering 
it  might  strike  roots  and  be  restored  to  life  as 
a  tree,  as  it  was  before,  and  spread  out  its 
branches  and  afford  a  pleasant  sight  to  the 
eyes  as  well  as  a  shade  for  those  who  sat  under 
it  in  the  heat  of  summer.  And  this  order  the 
lad  received  with  his  customary  veneration, 
never  considering  its  impossibility,  and  day 
by  day  carried  it  out  so  that  he  constantly 
carried  water  for  nearly  two  miles  and  never 
ceased  to  water  the  stick;  and  for  a  whole 
year  no  bodily  infirmity,  no  festival  services, 
no  necessary  business  (which  might  fairly  have 
excused  him  from  carrying  out  the  command), 
and  lastly  no  severity  of  winter  could  interfere 
and  hinder  him  from  obeying  this  order.  And 
when  the  old  man  had  watched  this  zeal  of  his 
on  the  sly  without  saying  anything  for  several 
days  and  had  seen  that  he  kept  this  command 
of  his  with  simple  willingness  of  heart,  as  if 
it  had  come  from  heaven,  without  any  change 
of  countenance  or  consideration  of  its  reason- 
ableness—  approving  the  unfeigned  obedience 
of  his  humility  and  at  the  same  time  commis- 
erating his  tedious  labour  which  in  the  zeal 
of  his  devotion  he  had  continued  for  a  whole 
year  —  he  came  to  the  dry  stick,  and,  "John," 
said  he,  "  has  this  tree  put  forth  roots  or  no  ?  " 
And  when  the  other  said  that  he  did  not  know, 
then  the  old  man  as  if  seeking  the  truth  of 
the  matter  and  trying  whether  it  was  yet  de- 
pending on  its  roots,  pulled  up  the  stick  be- 
fore him  with  a  slight  disturbance  of  the  earth, 
and  throwing  it  away  told  him  that  for  the 
future  he  might  stop  watering  it.1 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

Of  the  unique  vase  of  oil  thrown  away  by  Abbot  John  at  his 
senior's  command. 

Thus  the  youth,  trained  up  by  exercises  of 
this  sort,  daily  increased  in  this  virtue  of 
obedience,  and  shone  forth  more  and  more 
with  the  grace  of  humility;  and  when  the  sweet 
odour  of  his  obedience  spread  throughout  all 
the  monasteries,  some  of  the  brethren,  coming 
to  the  elder  for  the  sake  of  testing  him  or 
rather  of  being  edified  by  him,  marvelled  at 
his  obedience  of  which  they  had  heard;  and 
so  the  elder  called  him  suddenly,  and  said, 
"  Go  up  and  take  this  cruse  of  oil  "  2  (which  was 
the  only  one  in  the  desert  and  which  furnished 


1  A  somewhat  similar  story  is  told  by  Sulpitius  Severus  (Dialogi 
If  c.  xiii.)  of  an  Egyptian  monk,  only  in  that  case  the  story  terminates 
in  a  more  satisfactory  manner,  as  in  the  third  year  the  stick  took  root 
and  sprouted! 

2  Lenticula ;  the  word  is  used  for  a  cruse  of  oil  in  the  Vulgate. 
1  Sam.  x.  1 ;  2  Kings  ix.  i,  3. 


a  very  scanty  supply  of  the  rich  liquid  for  their 
own  use  and  for  that  of  strangers)  "  and  throw 
it  down  out  of  window."  And  he  flew  up 
stairs  when  summoned  and  threw  it  out  of 
window  and  cast  it  down  to  the  ground  and 
broke  it  in  pieces  without  any  thought  or  con- 
sideration of  the  folly  of  the  command,  or 
their  daily  wants,  and  bodily  infirmity,  or  of 
their  poverty,  and  the  trials  and  difficulties  of 
the  wretched  desert  in  which,  even  if  they  had 
got  the  money  for  it,  oil  of  that  quality,  once 
lost,  could  not  be  procured  or  replaced. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

How  Abbot  John  obeyed  his  senior  by  trying  to  roll  a  huge 
stone,  which  a  large  number  of  men  were  unable  to  move. 

Again,  when  some  others  were  anxious  to 
be  edified  by  the  example  of  his  obedience, 
the  elder  called  him  and  said:  "John,  run 
and  roll  that  stone  hither  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible ; "  and  he  forthwith,  applying  now  his 
neck,  and  now  his  whole  body,  tried  with  all 
his  might  and  main  to  roll  an  enormous  stone 
which  a  great  crowd  of  men  would  not  be 
able  to  move,  so  that  not  only  were  his  clothes 
saturated  with  sweat  from  his  limbs,  but  the 
stone  itself  was  wetted  by  his  neck;  in  this 
too  never  weighing  the  impossibility  of  the 
command  and  deed,  out  of  reverence  for  the 
old  man  and  the  unfeigned  simplicity  of  his 
service,  as  he  believed  implicitly  that  the  old 
man  could  not  command  him  to  do  anything 
vain  or  without  reason. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

Of  the  humility  and  obedience  of  Abbot  Patermucius,^  which  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  make  perfect  by  throwing  his  little  boy 
into  the  river  at  the  command  of  his  senior. 

So  far  let  it  suffice  for  me  to  have  told  a  few 
things  out  of  many  concerning  Abbot  John: 
now  I  will  relate  a  memorable  deed  of  Abbot 
Patermucius.  For  he,  when  anxious  to  re- 
nounce the  world,  remained  lying  before  the 
doors  of  the  monastery  for  a  long  time  until 
by  his  dogged  persistence  he  induced  them  — 
contrary  to  all  the  rules  of  the  Coenobia  —  to 
receive  him  together  with  his  little  boy  who 
was  about  eight  years  old.  And  when  they 
were  at  last  admitted  they  were  at  once  not 


3  Patermucius  (Petschenig)  or  Mucius  (Gazasus) ;  probably  _  a 
different  person  from  the  man  of  this  name  of  whom  we  read  in 
Rufinus,  History  of  the  Monks,  c.  ix. ;  as  there  is  no  allusion 
there  to  the  narrative  which  Cassian  gives  here,  nor  any  hint  that 
that  Patermucius  had  a  son. 


228 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


only  committed  to  the  care  of  different  supe- 
riors, but  also  put  to  live  in  separate  cells 
that  the  father  might  not  be  reminded  by  the 
constant  sight  of  the  little  one  that  out  of  all 
his  possessions  and  carnal  treasures,  which  he 
had  cast  off  and  renounced,  at  least  his  son  re- 
mained to  him;  and  that  as  he  was  already 
taught  that  he  was  no  longer  a  rich  man,  so 
he  might  also  forget  the  fact  that  he  was  a 
father.  And  that  it  might  be  more  thoroughly 
tested  whether  he  would  make  affection  and 
love  1  for  his  own  flesh  and  blood  of  more  ac- 
count than  obedience  and  Christian  mortifi- 
cation (which  all  who  renounce  the  world 
ought  out  of  love  to  Christ  to  prefer),  the  child 
was  on  purpose  neglected  and  dressed  in  rags 
instead  of  proper  clothes;  and  so  covered  and 
disfigured  with  dirt  that  he  would  rather  dis- 
gust than  delight  the  eyes  of  his  father  when- 
ever he  saw  him.  And  further,  he  was 
exposed  to  blows  and  slaps  from  different 
people,  which  the  father  often  saw  inflicted 
without  the  slightest  reason  on  his  innocent 
child  under  his  very  eyes,  so  that  he  never 
saw  his  cheeks  without  their  being  stained 
with  the  dirty  marks  of  tears.  And  though 
the  child  was  treated  thus  day  after  day  before 
his  eyes,  yet  still  out  of  love  for  Christ  and 
the  virtue  of  obedience  the  father's  heart  stood 
firm  and  unmoved.  For  he  no  longer  regarded 
him  as  his  own  son,  as  he  had  offered  him 
equally  with  himself  to  Christ;  nor  was  he  con- 
cerned about  his  present  injuries,  but  rather  re- 
joiced because  he  saw  that  they  were  endured, 
not  without  profit;  thinking  little  of  his  son's 
tears,  but  anxious  about  his  own  humility  and 
perfection.  And  when  the  Superior  of  the 
Coenobium  saw  his  steadfastness  of  mind  and 
immovable  inflexibility,  in  order  thoroughly 
to  prove  the  constancy  of  his  purpose,  one 
day  when  he  had  seen  the  child  crying,  he 
pretended  that  he  was  annoyed  with  him  and 
told  the  father  to  throw  him  into  the  river. 
Then  he,  as  if  this  had  been  commanded  him 
by  the  Lord,  at  once  snatched  up  the  child  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and  carried  him  in  his 
arms  to  the  river's  bank  to  throw  him  in.  And 
straightway  in  the  fervour  of  his  faith  and  obe- 
dience this  would  have  been  carried  out  in 
act,  had  not  some  of  the  brethren  been  pur- 
posely set  to  watch  the  banks  of  the  river  very 
carefully,  and  when  the  child  was  thrown  in, 
had  somehow  snatched  him  from  the  bed  of 
the  stream,  and  prevented  the  command,  which 
was  really  fulfilled  by  the  obedience  and  devo- 
tion of  the  father,  from  being  consummated  in 
act  and  result. 


1  Affcctionem  ....  ckaritatem. —  Petschenig 
Gazaeus  reads  the  ablative. 


The   text    of 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

How  it  was  revealed  to  the  Abbot  concerning  Patermucius 
that  he  had  done  the  deed  of  Abraham  ;  and  how  when  the 
same  Abbot  died,  Patermucius  succeeded  to  the  charge  of 
the  monastery. 

And  this  man's  faith  and  devotion  was  so 
acceptable  to  God  that  it  was  immediately 
approved  by  a  divine  testimony.  For  it  was 
forthwith  revealed  to  the  Superior  that  by  this 
obedience  of  his  he  had  copied  the  deed  of  the 
patriarch  Abraham.  And  when  shortly  after- 
wards the  same  Abbot  of  the  monastery  de- 
parted out  of  this  life  to  Christ,  he  preferred 
him  to  all  the  brethren,  and  left  him  as  his 
successor  and  as  Abbot  to  the  monastery. 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 

01  the  obedience  of  a  brother  who  at  the  Abbot's  bidding  carried 
about  in  public  ten  baskets  and  sold  them  by  retail. 

We  will  also  not  be  silent  about  a  brother 
whom  we  knew,  who  belonged  to  a  high  family 
according  to  the  rank  of  this  world,  for  he  was 
sprung  from  a  father  who  was  a  count  and 
extremely  wealthy,  and  had  been  well  brought 
up  with  a  liberal  education.  This  man,  when 
he  had  left  his  parents  and  fled  to  the  monas- 
tery, in  order  to  prove  the  humility  of  his  dis- 
position and  the  ardour  of  his  faith  was  at 
once  ordered  by  his  superior  to  load  his 
shoulders  with  ten  baskets  (which  there  was 
no  need  to  sell  publicly),  and  to  hawk  them 
about  through  the  streets  for  sale :  this  condi- 
tion being  attached,  so  that  he  might  be  kept 
longer  at  the  work,  viz. :  that  if  any  one  should 
chance  to  want  to  buy  them  all  together,  he 
was  not  to  allow  it,  but  was  to  sell  them  to 
purchasers  separately.  And  this  he  carried 
out  with  the  utmost  zeal,  and  trampling  under 
foot  all  shame  and  confusion,  out  of  love  for 
Christ,  and  for  His  Name's  sake,  he  put  the 
baskets  on  his  shoulders  and  sold  them  by 
retail  at  the  price  fixed  and  brought  back  the 
money  to  the  monastery;  not  in  the  least  upset 
by  the  novelty  of  so  mean  and  unusual  a  duty, 
and  paying  no  attention  to  the  indignity  of 
the  thing  and  the  splendour  of  his  birth,  and 
the  disgrace  of  the  sale,  as  he  was  aiming  at 
gaining  through  the  grace  of  obedience  that 
humility  of  Christ  which  is  the  true  nobility. 

CHAPTER   XXX. 

Of  the  humility  of  Abbot  Pinufius,  who  left  a  very  famous 
Coenobium  over  which  he  presided  as  Presbyter,  and  out  of 
the  love  of  subjection  sought  a  distant  monastery  where  he 
could  be  received  as  a  novice. 

The  limits  of  the  book  compel  us  to  draw 
to  a  close;  but  the  virtue  of  obedience,  which 
holds  the  first  place  among  other  good  qual- 


BOOK   IV. 


229 


ities,  will  not  allow  us  altogether  to  pass  over 
in  silence  the  deeds  of  those  who  have  ex- 
celled by  it.  Wherefore  aptly  combining 
these  two  together,  I  mean,  consulting  brevity 
as  well  as  the  wishes  and  profit  of  those  who 
are  in  earnest,  we  will  only  add  one  example 
of  humility,  which,  as  it  was  shown  by  no 
novice  but  one  already  perfect  and  an  Abbot, 
may  not  only  instruct  the  younger,  but  also 
incite  the  elders  to  the  perfect  virtue  of  hu- 
mility, as  they  read  it.  Thus  we  saw  Abbot 
Pinufius  1  who  when  he  was  presbyter  of  a  huge 
Ccenobium  which  is  in  Egypt  not  far  from  the 
city  of  Panephysis,2  was  held  in  honour  and 
respect  by  all  men  out  of  reverence  either  for 
his  life  or  for  his  age  or  for  his  priesthood; 
and  when  he  saw  that  for  this  reason  he  could 
not  practise  that  humility  which  he  longed  for 
with  all  the  ardour  of  his  disposition,  and  had 
no  opportunity  of  exercising  the  virtue  of  sub- 
jection which  he  desired,  he  fled  secretly  from 
the  Ccenobium  and  withdrew  alone  into  the 
furthest  parts  of  the  Thebaid,  and  there  laid 
aside  the  habit  of  the  monks  and  assumed  a 
secular  dress,  and  thus  sought  the  Ccenobium 
of  Tabenna,  which  he  knew  to  be  the  strictest 
of  all,  and  in  which  he  fancied  that  he  would 
not  be  known  owing  to  the  distance  of  the 
spot,  or  else  that  he  could  easily  lie  hid  there 
in  consequence  of  the  size  of  the  monastery 
and  the  number  of  brethren.  There  he  re- 
mained for  a  long  time  at  the  entrance,  and 
as  a  suppliant  at  the  knees  of  the  brethren 
sought  with  most  earnest  prayers  to  gain  ad- 
mission. And  when  he  was  at  last  with  much 
scorn  admitted  as  a  feeble  old  man  who  had 
lived  all  his  life  in  the  world,  and  had  asked 
in  his  old  age  to  be  allowed  to  enter  a  Cceno- 
bium when  he  could  no  longer  gratify  his 
passions, —  as  they  said  that  he  was  seeking 
this  not  for  the  sake  of  religion  but  because 
he  was  compelled  by  hunger  and  want,  they 
gave  him  the  care  and  management  of  the 
garden,  as  he  seemed  an  old  man  and  not 
specially  fitted  for  any  particular  work.  And 
this  he  performed  under  another  and  a  younger 
brother  who  kept  him  by  him  as  intrusted  to 
him,  and  he  was  so  subordinate  to  him,  and 
cultivated  the  desired  virtue  of  humility  so 
obediently  that  he  daily  performed  with  the 
utmost  diligence  not  only  everything  that  had 
to  do  with  the  care  and  management  of  the 
garden,  but  also  all  those  duties  which  were 


1  Cassian  repeats  this  story  in  the  Conferences  XX.  c.  i.,  as  an 
introduction  to  the  Conference  "  On  the  End  of  Penitence  and  the 
Marks  of  Satisfaction,"  which  he  gives  as  the  work  of  the  said 
Abbot  Pinufius. 

*  Panephysis  is  more  fully  described  in  the  Conferences  VII. 
xxvi.;  XI.  iii.  It  is  mentioned  by  Ptolemy  (IV.  v.  §  52),  but  not  by 
many  other  ancient  writers.  It  was  situated  in  the  Delta  between 
the  Tanitic  and  Mendesian  arms  of  the  Nile,  and  was  identified  by 
Champollion  with  the  modern  Menzaleh. 


looked  on  by  the  other  as  hard  and  degrad- 
ing, and  disagreeable.  Rising  also  by  night 
he  did  many  things  secretly,  without  any 
one  looking  on  or  knowing  it,  when  darkness 
concealed  him  so  that  no  one  could  discover 
the  author  of  the  deed.  And  when  he  had 
hidden  himself  there  for  three  years  and  had 
been  sought  for  high  and  low  by  the  brethren 
all  through  Egypt,  he  was  at  last  seen  by  one 
who  had  come  from  the  parts  of  Egypt,  but 
could  scarcely  be  recognized  owing  to  the 
meanness  of  his  dress  and  the  humble  char- 
acter of  the  duty  he  was  performing.  For  he 
was  stooping  down  and  hoeing  the  ground  for 
vegetables  and  bringing  dung  on  his  shoulders 
and  laying  it  about  their  roots.  And  seeing 
this  the  brother  for  a  long  time  hesitated  about 
recognizing  him,  but  at  last  he  came  nearer, 
and  taking  careful  note  not  only  of  his  looks 
but  also  of  the  tone  of  his  voice,  straightway 
fell  at  his  feet :  and  at  first  all  who  saw  it  were 
struck  with  the  greatest  astonishment  why  he 
should  do  this  to  one  who  was  looked  upon 
by  them  as  the  lowest  of  all,  as  being  a  novice 
and  one  who  had  but  lately  forsaken  the  world : 
but  afterwards  they  were  struck  with  still 
greater  wonder  when  he  forthwith  announced 
his  name,  which  was  one  that  had  been  well 
known  amongst  them  also  by  repute.  And 
all  the  brethren  asking  his  pardon  for  their 
former  ignorance  because  they  had  for  so  long 
classed  him  with  the  juniors  and  children, 
brought  him  back  to  his  own  Ccenobium, 
against  his  will  and  in  tears  because  by  the 
envy  of  the  devil  he  had  been  cheated  out  of 
a  worthy  mode  of  life  and  the  humility  which 
he  was  rejoicing  in  having  discovered  after 
his  long  search,  and  because  he  had  not  suc- 
ceeded in  ending  his  life  in  that  state  of  sub- 
jection which  he  had  secured.  And  so  they 
guarded  him  with  the  utmost  care  lest  he 
should  slip  away  again  in  the  same  sort  of 
way  and  escape  from  them  also. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

How  when  Abbot  Pinufius  was  brought  back  to  his  monastery 
he  stayed  there  for  a  little  while  and  then  fled  again  into  the 
regions  of  Syrian  Palestine. 

And  when  he  had  stopped  there  for  a  little 
while,  again  he  was  seized  with  a  longing  and 
desire  for  humility,  and,  taking  advantage  of 
the  silence  of  night,  made  his  escape  in  such 
a  way  that  this  time  he  sought  no  neighbouring 
district,  but  regions  which  were  unknown  and 
strange  and  separated  by  a  wide  distance. 
For  embarking  in  a  ship  he  managed  to  travel 
to  Palestine,   believing  that*  he  would  more 


230 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


securely  lie  hid  if  he  betook  himself  to  those 
places  in  which  his  name  had  never  been 
heard.  And  when  he  had  come  thither,  at 
once  he  sought  out  our  own  monastery  l  which 
was  at  no  great  distance  from  the  cave 2  in 
which  our  Lord  vouchsafed  to  be  born  of  a 
virgin.  And  though  he  concealed  himself 
here  for  some  time,  yet  like  "  a  city  set  on  an 
hill  "  3  (to  use  our  Lord's  expression)  he  could 
not  long  be  hid.  For  presently  some  of  the 
brethren  who  had  come  to  the  holy  places 
from  Egypt  to  pray  there  recognized  him  and 
recalled  him  with  most  fervent  prayers  to  his 
own  Ccenobium. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

The  charge  which  the  same  Abbot  Pinufius  gave  to  a  brother 
whom  he  admitted  into  his  monastery  in  our  presence. 

This  old  man,  then,  we  afterwards  diligently 
sought  out  in  Egypt  because  we  had  been  in- 
timate with  him  in  our  own  monastery;  and 
I  propose  to  insert  in  this  work  of  mine  an 
exhortation  which  he  gave  in  our  presence  to 
a  brother  whom  he  admitted  into  the  monas- 
tery, because  I  think  that  it  may  be  useful. 
You  know,  said  he,  that  after  lying  for  so 
many  days  at  the  entrance  you  are  to-day  to 
be  admitted.  And  to  begin  with  you  ought  to 
know  the  reason  of  the  difficulty  put  in  your 
way.  For  it  may  be  of  great  service  to  you 
in  this  road  on  which  you  are  desirous  to 
enter,  if  you  understand  the  method  of  it  and 
approach  the  service  of  Christ  accordingly, 
and  as  you  ought. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

How  it  is  that,  just  as  a  great  reward  is  due  to  the  monk  who 
labours  according  to  the  regulations  of  the  fathers,  so  like- 
wise punishment  must  be  inflicted  on  an  idle  one ;  and  there- 
fore no  one  should  be  admitted  into  a  monastery  too  easily. 

For  as  unbounded  glory  hereafter  is  prom- 
ised to  those  who  faithfully  serve  God  and 
cleave  to  Him  according  to  the  rule  of  this 
system ;  so  the  severest  penalties  are  in  store 
for  those  who  have  carried  it  out  carelessly 
and  coldly,  and  have  failed  to  show  to  Him 
fruits  of  holiness  corresponding  to  what  they 
professed  or  what  they  were  believed  by  men 
to  be.  For  "it  is  better,"  as  Scripture  says, 
"that  a  man  should  not  vow  rather  than  that 
he  should  vow  and  not  pay; "  and  "Cursed  is 
he  that  doeth  the  work  of    the    Lord  care- 


1  On  Cassian's  connection  with  the  monastery  at  Bethlehem,  see 
the  Introduction. 

2  On  the  Cave  of  the  Nativity,  see  Justin  Martyr  Dialogue  with 
Trvpho,  c.  lxxviii.     Origen  against  Celsus,  I.  c.  li. 

3  S.  Matt.  v.  14. 


lessly."  4  Therefore  you  were  for  a  long  while 
declined  by  us,  not  as  if  we  did  not  desire 
with  all  our  hearts  to  secure  your  salvation  and 
the  salvation  of  all,  nor  as  if  we  did  not  care 
to  go  to  meet  even  afar  off  those  who  are  long- 
ing to  be  converted  to  Christ;  but  for  fear 
lest  if  we  received  you  rashly  we  might  make 
ourselves  guilty  in  the  sight  of  God  of  levity, 
and  make  you  incur  a  yet  heavier  punishment, 
if,  when  you  had  been  too  easily  admitted  by 
us  without  realizing  the  responsibility  of  this 
profession,  you  had  afterwards  turned  out  a 
deserter  or  lukewarm.  Wherefore  you  ought 
in  the  first  instance  to  learn  the  actual  reason 
for  the  renunciation  of  the  world,  and  when 
you  have  seen  this,  you  can  be  taught  more 
plainly  what  you  ought  to  do,  from  the  reason 
for  it. 

CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

Of  the  way  in  which  our  renunciation  is  nothing  but  mortifica- 
tion and  the  image  of  the  Crucified. 

Renunciation  is  nothing  but  the  evidence 
of  the  cross  and  of  mortification.  And  so 
you  must  know  that  to-day  you  are  dead  to  this 
world  and  its  deeds  and  desires,  and  that,  as 
the  Apostle  says,  you  are  crucified  to  this 
world  and  this  world  to  you.5  Consider  there- 
fore the  demands  of  the  cross  under  the  sign 9 
of  which  you  ought  henceforward  to  live  in 
this  life;  because  you  no  longer  live  but  He 
lives  in  you  who  was  crucified  for  you.7  We 
must  therefore  pass  our  time  in  this  life  in 
that  fashion  and  form  in  which  He  was  cruci- 
fied for  us  on  the  cross  so  that  (as  David 
says)  piercing  our  flesh  with  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,8  we  may  have  all  our  wishes  and  desires 
not  subservient  to  our  own  lusts  but  fastened 
to  His  mortification.  For  so  shall  we  fulfil 
the  command  of  the  Lord  which  says:  "He 
that  taketh  not  up  his  cross  and  followeth  me 
is  not  worthy  of  me."9  But  perhaps  you  will 
say:  How  can  a  man  carry  his  cross  continu- 
ally? or  how  can  any  one  who  is  alive  be  cru- 
cified?    Hear  briefly  how  this  is. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

How  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  our  cross. 

The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  our  cross.  As  then 
one  who  is  crucified  no  longer  has  the  power 
of  moving  or  turning  his  limbs  in  any  direc- 


*  Eccl.  v.  4  (LXX.);  Jer.  xlviii.  10  (LXX.). 

6  Cf.  Gal.  vi.  14. 

6  Sacratnentum. 

7  Cf.  Gal.  ii.  20. 

8  Cf.  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  120,  where  the  Gallican  Psalter  has  "  Con- 
fige  timore  tuo  carries  meas." 

9  S.  Matt.  x.  3S- 


, 


BOOK   IV. 


23  r 


tion  as  he  pleases,  so  we  also  ought  to  affix 
our  wishes  and  desires  —  not  in  accordance 
with  what  is  pleasant  and  delightful  to  us  now, 
but  in  accordance  with  the  law  of  the  Lord, 
where  it  constrains  us.  And  as  he  who  is  fas- 
tened to  the  wood  of  the  cross  no  longer  con- 
siders things  present,  nor  thinks  about  his  lik- 
ings, nor  is  perplexed  by  anxiety  and  care  for 
the  morrow,  nor  disturbed  by  any  desire  of 
possession,  nor  inflamed  by  any  pride  or  strife 
or  rivalry,  grieves  not  at  present  injuries, 
remembers  not  past  ones,  and  while  he  is  still 
breathing  in  the  body  considers  that  he  is  dead 
to  all  earthly  things,1  sending  the  thoughts  of 
his  heart  on  before  to  that  place  whither  he 
doubts  not  that  he  is  shortly  to  come :  so  we 
also,  when  crucified  by  the  fear  of  the  Lord 
ought  to  be  dead  indeed  to  all  these  things,  i.e. 
not  only  to  carnal  vices  but  also  to  all  earthly 
things,1  having  the  eye  of  our  minds  fixed  there 
whither  we  hope  at  each  moment  that  we  are 
soon  to  pass.  For  in  this  way  we  can  have  all 
our  desires  and  carnal  affections  mortified. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

How  our  renunciation  of   the  world   is  of   no  use  if  we  are 
again  entangled  in  those  things  which  we  have  renounced. 

Beware  therefore  lest  at  any  time  you  take 
again  any  of  those  things  which  you  renounced 
and  forsook,  and,  contrary  to  the  Lord's  com- 
mand, return  from  the  field  of  evangelical 
work,  and  be  found  to  have  clothed  yourself 
again  in  your  coat  which  you  had  stripped  off;2 
neither  sink  back  to  the  low  and  earthly  lusts 
and  desires  of  this  world,  and  in  defiance 
of  Christ's  word  come  down  from  the  roof  of 
perfection  and  dare  to  take  up  again  any 
of  those  things  which  you  have  renounced  and 
forsaken.  Beware  that  you  remember  nothing 
of  your  kinsfolk  or  of  your  former  affections, 
and  that  you  are  not  called  back  to  the  cares 
and  anxieties  of  this  world,  and  (as  our  Lord 
says)  putting  your  hand  to  the  plough  and 
looking  back  be  found  unfit  for  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.3  Beware  lest  at  any  time,  when 
you  have  begun  to  dip  into  the  knowledge  of 
the  Psalms  and  of  this  life,  you  be  little  by 
little  puffed  up  and  think  of  reviving  that 
pride  which  now  at  your  beginning  you  have 
trampled  under  foot  in  the  ardour  of  faith 
and  in  fullest  humility;  and  thus  (as  the 
Apostle  says)  building  again  those  things 
which  you  had  destroyed,  you  make  yourself 
a  backslider.4     But  rather  take  heed  to  con- 


1  Elementa. 

2  Cf.  S.  Matt.  xxiv. 

3  S.  Luke  ix.  62. 

4  Cf.  Gal.  ii.  18. 


tinue  even  to  the  end  in  that  state  of  naked- 
ness of  which  you  made  profession  in  the 
sight  of  God  and  of  his  angels.  In  this  hu- 
mility too  and  patience,  with  which  you  per- 
severed for  ten  days  before  the  doors  and 
entreated  with  many  tears  to  be  admitted  into 
the  monastery,  you  should  not  only  continue 
but  also  increase  and  go  forward.  For  it  is 
too  bad  that  when  you  ought  to  be  carried  on 
from  the  rudiments  and  beginnings,  and  go 
forward  to  perfection,  you  should  begin  to 
fall  back  from  these  to  worse  things.  For  not 
he  who  begins  these  things,  but  he  who  en- 
dures in  them  to  the  end,  shall  be  saved.5 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

How  the  ''evil  always  lies  in  wait   for  our  end,  and.  how  we 
ought  continually  to  watch  his  head.'' 

For  the  subtle  serpent  is  ever  "watching 
our  heel,"  that  is,  is  lying  in  wait  for  the 
close,  and  endeavouring  to  trip  us  up  right  to 
the  end  of  our  life.  And  therefore  it  will  not 
be  of  any  use  to  have  made  a  good  beginning 
and  to  have  eagerly  taken  the  first  step  towards 
renouncing  the  world  with  all  fervour,  if  a 
corresponding  end  does  not  likewise  set  it  off 
and  conclude  it,  and  if  the  humility  and  pov- 
erty of  Christ,  of  which  you  have  now  made 
profession  in  His  sight,  are  not  preserved  by 
you  even  to  the  close  of  your  life,  as  they  were 
first  secured.  And  that  you  may  succeed  in 
doing  this,  do  you  ever  "watch  his  head," 
i.e.  Jhe  first  rise  of  thoughts,  by  bringing  them 
at  once  to  your  superior.  For  thus  you  will 
learn  to  "bruise"  his  dangerous  beginnings, 
if  you  are  not  ashamed  to  disclose  any  of  them 
to  your  superior. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

Of  the  renunciant's  preparation  against  temptation,  and  of  the 
few  who  are  worthy  of  imitation. 

Wherefore,  as  Scripture  says,  "when  you 
go  forth  to  serve  the  Lord  stand  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord,  and  prepare  your  mind " 7  not 
for  repose  or  carelessness  or  delights,  but 
for  temptations  and  troubles.  For  ' '  through 
much  tribulation  we  must  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  God."  For  "strait  is  the  gate  and 
narrow  is  the  way  which  leadeth  unto  life,  and 


5  Cf.  S.  Matt.  xxiv.  13. 

6  All  through  this  chapter  Cassian  is  alluding  to  Gen.  iii.  15  :  "I 
will  put  enmity  between  thee  and  the  woman  jnd  between  thy  seed 
and  her  seed ;  it  shalt  bruise  thy  head  and  thou  shalt  bruise  his 
heel  :  "  the  last  clause  of  which  is  rendered  by  the  LXX.  avros  <rov 
TTjprjcrei  Ktfyahriv  kou  <tv  T7)prjcreis  avTov  irrepvav,  where  the  Vulgate 
has  "  Ipsa  conteret  caput  tuum  et  tu  insidiaberis  calcaneo  ejus." 

1  Ecclus.  ii.  1. 


232 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


few  there  be  which  find  it."  1  Consider  there- 
fore that  you  belong  to  the  few  and  elect ;  and 
do  not  grow  cold  after  the  examples  of  the 
lukewarmness  of  many:  but  live  as  the  few, 
that  with  the  few  you  may  be  worthy  of  a 
place  in  the  kingdom  of  God:  for  "many  are 
called,  but  few  chosen,"  and  it  is  a  "little 
flock  to  which  it  is  the  Father's  good  pleasure 
to  give  "  2  an  inheritance.  You  should  there- 
fore realize  that  it  is  no  light  sin  for  one  who 
has  made  profession  of  perfection  to  follow 
after  what  is  imperfect.  And  to  this  state  of 
perfection  you  may  attain  by  the  following 
steps  and  in  the  following  way. 

CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

Of  the  way  in  which  we  shall  mount  towards  perfection,  where- 
by we  may  afterwards  ascend  from  the  fear  of  God  up  to 
love. 

"The  beginning"  of  our  salvation  and  the 
safeguard  of  it  is,  as  I  said,  "  the  fear  of  the 
Lord. " 3  For  through  this  those  who  are 
trained  in  the  way  of  perfection  can  gain  a 
start  in  conversion  as  well  as  purification 
from  vices  and  security  in  virtue.  And  when 
this  has  gained  an  entrance  into  a  man's  heart 
it  produces  contempt  of  all  things,  and  begets 
a  forgetfulness  of  kinsfolk  and  an  horror  of  the 
world  itself.  But  by  the  contempt  for  the 
loss-  of  all  possessions  humility  is  gained. 
And  humility  is  attested  by  these  signs :  First 
of  all  if  a  man  has  all  his  desires  mortified; 
secondly,  if  he  conceals  none  of  his  actions 
or  even  of  his  thoughts  from  his  superior; 
thirdly,  if  he  puts  no  trust  in  his  own  opinion, 
but  all  in  the  judgment  of  his  superior,  and 
listens  eagerly  and  willingly  to  his  directions; 
fourthly,  if  he  maintains  in  everything  obedi- 
ence and  gentleness  and  constant  patience; 
fifthly,  if  he  not  only  hurts  nobody  else,  but 
also  is  not  annoyed  or  vexed  at  wrongs  done 
to  himself;  sixthly,  if  he  does  nothing  and 
ventures  on  nothing  to  which  he  is  not  urged 
by  the  Common  Rule  or  by  the  example  of 
our  elders;  seventhly,  if  he  is  contented  with 
the  lowest  possible  position,  and  considers 
himself  as  a  bad  workman  and  unworthy  in 
the  case  of  everything  enjoined  to  him; 
eighthly,  if  he  does  not  only  outwardly  pro- 
fess with  his  lips  that  he  is  inferior  to  all,  but 
really  believes  it  in  the  inmost  thoughts  of  his 
heart;  ninthly,  if  he  governs  his  tongue,  and 
is  not  over  talkative;  tenthly,  if  he  is  not 
easily  moved  or  too  ready  to  laugh.  For  by 
such  signs  and  the  like  is  true  humility  recog- 
nised.    And  when  this  has  once  been  genu- 


1  Acts  xiv.  22;   S.  Matt.  vii.  14. 

2  S.  Matt.  xx.  16 ;  S.  Luke  xii.  32. 

3  Prov.  ix.  10. 


inely  secured,  then  at  once  it  leads  you  on  by 
a  still  higher  step  to  love  which  knows  no  fear  ;4 
and  through  this  you  begin,  without  any  effort 
and  as  it  were  naturally,  to  keep  up  everything 
that  you  formerly  observed  not  without  fear 
of  punishment ;  no  longer  now  from  regard  of 
punishment  or  fear  of  it  but  from  love  of  good- 
ness itself,  and  delight  in  virtue.5 

CHAPTER   XL. 

That  the  monk  should  seek   for  examples   of  perfection    not 
from  many  instances  but  from  one  or  a  very  few. 

And  that  you  may  the  more  easily  arrive  at 
this,  the  examples  of  the  perfect  life  of  one 
dwelling  in  the  congregation,  which  you  may 
imitate,  should  be  sought  from  a  very  few  or 
indeed  from  one  or  two  only  and  not  from  too 
many.  For  apart  from  the  fact  that  a  life 
which  is  tested  and  refined  and  purified  is  only 
to  be  found  in  a  few,  there  is  this  also  to  be 
gained,  viz.  :  that  a  man  is  more  thoroughly 
instructed  and  formed  by  the  example  of  some 
one,  towards  the  perfection  which  he  sets  before 
him,  viz.  :  that  of  the  Coenobite  life. 

CHAPTER   XLI. 

The  appearance  of  what  infirmities  one  who  lives  in  a  Cceno- 
bium  ought  to  exhibit.6 

And  that  you  maybe  able  to  attain  all  this, 
and  continually  remain  subject  to  this  spiritual 
rule,  you  must  observe  these  three  things  in 
the  congregation:  viz.:  that  as  the  Psalmist 
says:  "I  was  like  a  deaf  man  and  heard  not 
and  as  one  that  is  dumb  who  doth  not  open 
his  mouth;  and  I  became  as  a  man  that  hear- 
eth  not,  and  in  whose  mouth  there  are  no 
reproofs,"  7  so  you  also  should  walk  as  one  that 
is  deaf  and  dumb  and  blind,  so  that- — putting 
aside  the  contemplation  of  him  who  has  been 
rightly  chosen  by  you  as  your  model  of  per- 
fection—  you  should  be  like  a  blind  man  and 
not  see  "any  of  those  things  which  you  find 
to  be  unedifying,  nor 8  be  influenced  by.  the 
authority  or  fashion  of  those  who  do  these 
things,  and  give  yourself  up  to  what  is  worse 
and  what  you  formerly  condemned.  If  you 
hear  any  one  disobedient  or  insubordinate  or 
disparaging  another  or  doing  anything  differ- 
ent from  what  was  taught  to  you,  you  should 
not  go  wrong  and  be  led  astray  by  such  an 


■»  Cf.  1  John  iv.  18. 

5  With  this  chapter  there  should  be  compared  the  Rule  of  S. 
Benedict  c.  vii.,  where  a  very  similar  description  is  given  of  twelve 
grades  "  on  the  mystic  ladder  [of  humility]  which  Jacob  saw," 
evidently  suggested  by  the  chapter  before  us. 

6  Qttarum  debilitatum  similitudincm  si/seiflcre  debeat  qui  in 
ccenobio  commoratur.  —  Petschenig.  The  text  of  Gazaeus  gives  as  the 
title  of  this  chapter:  "In  congrcgativne  ccenobitica  constituti  quid 
to/erare  ac  susiinere  debeant." 

7  Ps.  xxxvii.  (xxxviii.)  14,  15. 

8  Nee  (Petschenig) .     Gaza;us  reads  tie. 


BOOK   V. 


example  to  imitate  him  ;  but,  "  like  a  deaf 
man,"  as  if  you  had  never  heard  it,  you  should 
pass  it  all  by.  If  insults  are  offered  to  you 
or  to  any  one  else,  or  wrongs  done,  be  immov- 
able, and  as  far  as  an  answer  in  retaliation  is 
concerned  be  silent  "as  one  that  is  dumb," 
always  singing  in  your  heart  this  verse  of  the 
Psalmist :  "  J  said  I  will  take  heed  to  my  ways 
that  I  offend  not  with  my  tongue.  I  set  a 
guard  to  my  mouth  when  the  sinner  stood  be- 
fore me.  I  was  dumb  and  was  humbled  and 
kept  silence  from  good  things."  1  But  cultivate 
above  everything  this  fourth  thing  which  adorns 
and  graces  those  three  of  which  we  have  spoken 
above ;  viz.  :  make  yourself,  as  the  Apostle 
directs,2  a  fool  in  this  world  that  you  may 
become  wise,  exercising  no  discrimination 
and  judgment  of  your  own  on  any  of  those 
matters  which  are  commanded  to  you,  but 
always  showing  obedience  with  all  simplicity 
and  faith,  judging  that  alone  to  be  holy,  use- 
ful, and  wise  which  God's  law  or  the  decision 
of  your  superior  declares  to  you  to  be  such. 
For  built  up  on  such  a  system  of  instruction 
you  may  continue  forever  under  this  discipline, 
and  not  fall  away  from  the  monastery  in  con- 
sequence of  any  temptations  or  devices  of  the 
enemy. 

CHAPTER   XLII. 

How  a  monk  should  not  look  for  the  blessing  of  patience  in  his 
own  case  as  a  result  of  the  virtue  of  others,  but  rather  as  a 
consequence  of  his  own  longsuffering. 

You  should  therefore  not  look  for  patience 
in  your  own  case  from  the  virtue  of  others, 


thinking  that  then  only  can  you  secure  it  wr>en 
you  are  not  irritated  by  any  (for  it  is  not  in 
your  own  power  to  prevent  this  from  happen- 
ing) ;  but  rather  you  should  look  for  it  as  the 
consequence  of  your  own  humility  and  long- 
suffering  which  does  depend  on  your  own  will. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

Recapitulation  of  the  explanation  how  a  monk  can  mount  up 
towards  perfection. 

And  in  order  that  all  these  things  which 
have  been  set  forth  in  a  somewhat  lengthy 
discourse  may  be  more  easily  stamped  on  your 
heart  and  may  stick  in  your  thoughts  with  all 
tenacity,  I  will  make  a  summary  of  them  so 
that  you  may  be  able  to  learn  all  the  changes 
by  heart  by  reason  of  their  brevity  and  con- 
ciseness. Hear  then  in  few  words  how  you 
can  mount  up  to  the  heights  of  perfection  with- 
out any  effort  or  difficulty.  "  The  beginning  " 
of  our  salvation  and  "  of  wisdom  "  is,  according 
to  Scripture,  "the  fear  of  the  Lord."  3  From 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  arises  salutary  compunc- 
tion. From  compunction  of  heart  springs  re- 
nunciation, i.e. nakedness  and  contempt  of  all 
possessions.  From  nakedness  is  begotten 
humility;  from  humility  the  mortification  of 
desires.  Through  mortification  of  desires  all 
faults  are  extirpated  and  decay.  By  driving 
out  faults  virtues  shoot  up  and  increase.  By. 
the  budding  of  virtues  purity  of  heart  is 
gained.  By  purity  of  heart  the  perfection  of 
apostolic  love  is  acquired. 


BOOK  V. 


OF  THE   SPIRIT  OF  GLUTTONY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

The  transition  from  the  Institutes  of  the  monks  to  the  struggle 
against  the  eight  principal  faults. 

This  fifth  book  of  ours  is  now  by  the  help 
of  God  to  be  produced.  For  after  the  four 
books  which  have  been  composed  on  the  cus- 
toms of  the  monasteries,  we  now  propose,  be- 
ing strengthened  by  God  through  your  prayers, 
to  approach  the  struggle  against  the  eight  prin- 


cipal faults,  i.e.  first,  Gluttony  or  the  pleasures 
of  the  palate;  secondly,  Fornication;  thirdly, 
Covetousness,  which  means  Avarice,  or,  as  it 
may  more  properly  be  called,  the  love  of 
money,  fourthly,  Anger;  fifthly,  Dejection; 
sixthly,   "Accidie,"4  which    is   heaviness    or 


1  Ps.  xxxviii.  (xxxix.)  2,  3. 


Z  Cf.  1  Cor.  iii.  18, 


3  Ps.  cxi.  10. 

4  Acedia.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the  old  English  word 
"  Accidie  "  has  entirely  dropped  out  of  use.  It  is  used  by  Chaucer 
and  other  early  writers'  for  the  sin  of  spiritual  sloth  or  sluggishness. 
See  "  The  Persone's  Tale,"  where  it  is  thus  described:  "  After  the 
sinne  of  wrath,  now  wol  I  speke  of  the  sinne  of  accidie  or  slouth  : 
for  envie  blindeth  the  herte  of  a  man,  and  ire  troubleth  a  man,  and 
accidie  maketh  him  hevy,  thoughtful,  and  wrawe.     Envie  and  ire 


234 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


weariness  of  heart;  seventhly,  xevotio$la  which 
means  foolish  or  vain  glory;  eighthly,  pride. 
And  on  entering  upon  this  difficult  task  we 
need  your  prayers,  O  most  blessed  Pope  Cas- 
tor, more  than  ever;  that  we  may  be  enabled 
in  the  first  place  worthily  to  investigate  the 
nature  of  these  in  all  points  however  trifling 
or  hidden  or  obscure:  and  next  to  explain 
with  sufficient  clearness  the  causes  of  them; 
and  thirdly  to  bring  forward  fitly  the  cures  and 
remedies  for  them. 


CHAPTER   II. 

How  the  occasions  of  these  faults,  being  found  in  everybody, 
are  ignored  by  everybody;  and  how  we  need  the  Lord's  help 
to  make  them  plain. 

And  of  these  passions  as  the  occasions  are 
recognized  by  everybody  as  soon  as  they  are 
laid  open  by  the  teaching  of  the  elders,  so 
before  they  are  revealed,  although  we  are  all 
overcome  by  them,  and  they  exist  in  every  one, 
yet  nobody  knows  of  them.  But  we  trust  that 
we  shall  be  able  in  some  measure  to  explain 
them,  if  by  your  prayers  that  word  of  the 
Lord,  which  was  announced  by  Isaiah,  may 
apply  to  us  also  —  "I  will  go  before  thee,  and 
bring  low  the  mighty  ones  of  the  land,  I  will 
break  the  gates  of  brass,  and  cut  asunder  the 
iron  bars,  and  I  will  open  to  thee  concealed 
treasures  and  hidden  secrets  "  *  —  so  that  the 
word  of  the  Lord  may  go  before  us  also,  and 
first  may  bring  low  the  mighty  ones  of  our 
land,  i.e.  these  same  evil  passions  which  we 
are  desirous  to  overcome,  and  which  claim 
for  themselves  dominion  and  a  most  horrible 
tyranny  in  our  mortal  body;  and  may  make 
them  yield  to  our  investigation  and  expla- 
nation, and  thus  breaking  the  gates  of  our 
ignorance,  and  cutting  asunder  the  bars  of 
vices  which  shut  us  out  from  true  knowledge, 
may  lead  to  the  hidden  things  of  our  secrets, 
and  reveal  to  us  who  have  been  illuminated, 
according  to  the  Apostle's  word,  "the  hidden 
things  of  darkness,  and  may  make  manifest 


maken  bitternesse  in  herte,  which  bitternesse  is  mother  of  accidie,  and 
benimeth  him  the  love  of  alle  goodnesse  ;  than  is  accidie  the  an- 
guish of  a  troubled  herte."  The  English  word  lingered  on  till 
the  seventeenth  century,  as  it  is  used  by  Bishop  Hall(Serm.V. 
140)1  in  the  form  "Acedy,"  which  is  etymologically  more  correct 
as  being  nearer  the  Latin  Acedia  and  the  Greek  'AktjSi'o,  a 
word  which  occurs  in  the  LXX.  version  of  the  Old  Testament 
in  Isaiah  lxi.  3;  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  2S;  Baruch  iii.  1;  Ecclus. 
xxix.  6  (cf.  the  use  of  the  verb  aKijSia^u  in  Ps.  lx.  (lxi.)  2; 
ci._(cii.)  1;  cxlii.  (cxliii.)  4 ;  Ecclus.  xxii.  14).  In  ecclesiastical 
writers  the  term  Acedia  is  a  favourite  one  to  denote  primarily  the 
mental  prostiation  induced  by  fasting  and  other  physical  causes,  and 
afterwards  spiritual  sloth  and  sluggishness  in  general.  It  forms  the 
subject  of  the  tenth  book  of  the  Institutes,  and  is  treated  of  again  by 
Cassian  in  the  Conferences  V.  iii.  sq.;  cf.  also  the  "  Summa  "  of  S. 
Thomas,  II.  ii.  q.  xxxv. ,  where  there  is  a  full  discussion  of  its  nature 
and  character.  —  cf.  Dr.  Paget's  essay  "Concerning  Accidie"  in 
"  The  Spirit  of  Discipline." 
1  Isa.  xlv.  2,  3. 


the  counsels  of  the  hearts, "  2  that  thus  pene- 
trating with  pure  eyes  of  the  mind  to  the  foul 
darkness  of  vices,  we  may  be  able  to  dis- 
close them  and  drag  them  forth  to  light;  and 
may  succeed  in  explaining  their  occasions  and 
natures  to  those  who  are  either  free  from  them, 
or  are  still  tied  and  bound  by  them,  and  so 
passing  as  the  prophet  says,3  through  the  fire 
of  vices  which  terribly  inflame  our  minds,  we 
may  be  able  forthwith  to  pass  also  through 
the  water  of  virtues  which  extinguish  them 
unharmed,  and  being  bedewed  (as  it  were) 
with  spiritual  remedies  may  be  found  worthy 
to  be  brought  in  purity  of  heart  to  the  conso- 
lations of  perfection. 


CHAPTER   III. 

How  our    first  struggle  must  be  against  the  spirit  of  gluttony, 
i.e.  the  pleasures  of  the  palate. 

And  so  the  first  conflict  we  must  enter 
upon  is  that  against  gluttony,  which  we  have 
explained  as  the  pleasures  of  the  palate:  and 
in  the  first  place  as  we  are  going  to  speak  of 
the  system  of  fasts,  and  the  quality  of  food, 
we  must  again  recur  to  the  traditions  and 
customs  of  the  Egyptians,  as  everybody  knows 
that  they  contain  a  more  advanced  discipline 
in  the  matter  of  self-control,  and  a  perfect 
method  of  discrimination. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

The  testimony  of  Abbot  Antony  in  which  he  teaches  that  each 
virtue  ought  to  be  sought  for  from  him  who  professes  it  in  a 
special  degree. 

For  it  is  an  ancient  and  excellent  saying  of 
the  blessed  Antony 4  that  when  a  monk  is  en- 
deavouring after  the  plan  of  the  monastic  life 
to  reach  the  heights  of  a  more  advanced 
perfection,  and,  having  learned  the  considera- 
tion of  discretion,  is  able  now  to  stand  in  his 
own  judgment,  and  to  arrive  at  the  very 
summit  of  the  anchorite's  life,  he  ought  by 
no  means  to  seek  for  all  kinds  of  virtues  from 
one  man  however  excellent.  For  one  is 
adorned  with  flowers  of  knowledge, .  another 
is  more  strongly  fortified  with  methods  of 
discretion,  another  is  established  in  the  dig- 
nity of  patience,  another  excels  in  the  virtue 
of  humility,  another  in  that  of  continence, 
another  is  decked  with  the  grace  of  simplicity. 


2  1  Cor.  iv.  5. 

3  Ps.  lxv.  (Ixvi.)  12. 

4  S.  Antony,  the  "  founder  of  asceticism  "  and  one  of  the  most 
famous  of  the  early  monks,  was  born  about  250  A.D.  at  Coma,  on 
the  borders  of  Egypt,  and  died  about  355,  at  the  great  age  of  105. 
He  is  frequently  mentioned  by  Cassian  in  the  Conferences. 


BOOK   V. 


235 


This  one  excels  all  others  in  magnanimity, 
that  one  in  pity,  another  in  vigils,  another 
in  silence,  another  in  earnestness  of  work. 
And  therefore  the  monk  who  desires  to  gather 
spiritual  honey,  ought  like  a  most  careful  bee, 
to  suck  out  virtue  from  those  who  specially 
possess  it,  and  should  diligently  store  it  up 
in  the  vessel  of  his  own  breast:  nor  should  he 
investigate  what  any  one  is  lacking  in,  but 
only  regard  and  gather  whatever  virtue  he  has. 
For  if  we  want  to  gain  all  virtues  from  some 
one  person,  we  shall  with  great  difficulty  or 
perhaps  never  at  all  find  suitable  examples  for 
us  to  imitate.  For  though  we  do  not  as  yet 
see  that  even  Christ  is  made  "all  things  in 
all,"  as  the  Apostle  says;1  still  in  this  way 
we  can  find  Him  bit  by  bit  in  all.  For  it  is  said 
of  Him,  "  Who  was  made  of  God  to  you  wis- 
dom and  righteousness  and  sanctification  and 
redemption."'2  While  then  in  one  there  is 
found  wisdom,  in  another  righteousness,  in 
another  sanctification,  in  another  kindness, 
in  another  chastity,  in  another  humility,  in 
another  patience,  Christ  is  at  the  present  time 
divided,  member  by  member,  among  all  of 
the  saints.  But  when  all  come  together  into 
the  unity  of  the  faith  and  virtue,  He  is  formed 
into  the  "perfect  man,"  3  completing  the  ful- 
ness of  His  body,  in  the  joints  and  proper- 
ties of  all  His  members.  Until  then  that  time 
arrives  when  God  will  be  "all  in  all,"  for 
the  present  God  can  in  the  way  of  which  we 
have  spoken  be  "in  all,"  through  particular 
virtues,  although  He  is  not  yet  "all  in  all" 
through  the  fulness  of  them.  For  although 
our  religion  has  but  one  end  and  aim,  yet 
there  are  different  ways  by  which  we  ap- 
proach God,  as  will  be  more  fully  shown  in 
the  Conferences  of  the  Elders.4  And  so  we 
must  seek  a  model  of  discretion  and  con- 
tinence more  particularly  from  those  from 
whom  we  see  that  those  virtues  flow  forth 
more  abundantly  through  the  grace  of  the 
Holy  Spirit;  not  that  any  one  can  alone  ac- 
quire those  things  which  are  divided  among 
many,  but  in  order  that  in  those  good  quali- 
ties of  which  we  are  capable  we  may  advance 
towards  the  imitation  of  those  who  especially 
have  acquired  them. 

CHAPTER   V. 

That  one  and  the  same  rule  of  fasting  cannot  be  observed  by 
everybody. 

And  so  on  the  manner  of  fasting  a  uniform 
rule  cannot  easily  be  observed,  because  every- 
body  has   not   the  same  strength;   nor  is   it 


i  Cor.  xv.  28.  2  1  Cor.  i.  30.  3  Eph.  iv.  13. 

4  See  especially  Conferences  XVIII.  and  XIX. 


like  the  rest  of  the  virtues,  acquired  by  stead- 
fastness of  mind  alone.  And  therefore,  be- 
cause it  does  not  depend  only  on  mental 
firmness,  since  it  has  to  do  with  the  possibili- 
ties of  the  body,  we  have  received  this  ex- 
planation concerning  it  which  has  been  handed 
down  to  us,  viz.  :  that  there  is  a  difference  of 
time,  manner,  and  quality  of  the  refreshment 
in  proportion  to  the  difference  of  condition  of 
the  body,  the  age,  and  sex:  but  that  there  is 
one  and  the  same  rule  of  restraint  to  every- 
body as  regards  continence  of  mind,  and  the 
virtue  of  the  spirit.  For  it  is  impossible  for 
every  one  to  prolong  his  fast  for  a  week,  or 
to  postpone  taking  refreshment  during  a  two 
or  three  days'  abstinence.  By  many  people 
also  who  are  worn  out  with  sickness  and 
especially  with  old  age,  a  fast  even  up  to  sun- 
set cannot  be  endured  without  suffering.  The 
sickly  food  of  moistened  beans  does  not  agree 
with  everybody:  nor  does  a  sparing  diet  of 
fresh  vegetables  suit  all,  nor  is  a  scanty  meal 
of  dry  bread  permitted  to  all  alike.  One  man 
does  not  feel  satisfied  with  two  pounds,  for 
another  a  meal  of  one  pound,  or  six  ounces, 
is  too  much;  but  there  is  one  aim  and  object 
of  continence  in  the  case  of  all  of  these,  viz.  : 
that  no  one  may  be  overburdened  beyond  the 
measure  of  his  appetite,  by  gluttony.  For  it 
is  not  only  the  quality,  but  also  the  quantity 
of  food  taken  which  dulls  the  keenness  of  the 
mind,  and  when  the  soul  as  well  as  the  flesh 
is  surfeited,  kindles  the  baneful  and  fiery  in- 
centive to  vice. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

That  the  mind  is  not  intoxicated  by  wine  alone. 

The  belly  when  filled  with  all  kinds  of  food 
gives  birth  to  seeds  of  wantonness,  nor 
can  the  mind,  when  choked  with  the  weight 
of  food,  keep  the  guidance  and  government  of 
the  thoughts.  For  not  only  is  drunkenness 
with  wine  wont  to  intoxicate  the  mind,  but 
excess  of  all  kinds  of  food  makes  it  weak  and 
uncertain,  and  robs  it  of  all  its  power  of  pure 
and  clear  contemplation.  The  cause  of  the 
overthrow  and  wantonness  of  Sodom  was  not 
drunkenness  through  wine,  but  fulness  of  bread. 
Hear  the  Lord  rebuking  Jerusalem  through  the 
prophet.  "For  how  did  thy  sister  Sodom  sin, 
except  in  that  she  ate  her  bread  in  fulness  and 
abundance?  "  5  And  because  through  fulness 
of  bread  they  were  inflamed  with  uncontrol- 
lable lust  of  the  flesh,  they  were  burnt  up  by 
the  judgment  of  God  with  fire  and  brimstone 
from  heaven.      But   if  excess  of  bread  alone 


5  Ezek.  xvi.  49. 


236 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF   JOHN   CASSIAN. 


drove  them  to  such  a  headlong  downfall  into 
sin  through  the  vice  of  satiety,  what  shall  we 
think  of  those  who  with  a  vigorous  body  dare 
to  partake  of  meat  and  wine  with  unbounded 
licence,  taking  not  just  what  their  bodily 
frailty  demands,  but  what  the  eager  desire  of 
the  mind  suggests. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

How  bodily  weakness  need  not  interfere  with  purity  of  heart. 

Bodily  weakness  is  no  hindrance  to  purity 
of  heart,  if  only  so  much  food  is  taken  as  the 
bodily  weakness  requires,  and  not  what  pleas- 
ure asks  for.  It  is  easier  to  find  men  who 
altogether  abstain  from  the  more  fattening 
kinds  of  foods  than  men  who  make  a  moderate 
use  of  what  is  allowed  to  our  necessities;  and 
men  who  deny  themselves  everything  out  of 
love  of  continence  than  men  who  taking  food 
on  the  plea  of  weakness  preserve  the  due 
measure  of  what  is  sufficient.1  For  bodily 
weakness  has  its  glory  of  self-restraint,  where 
though  food  is  permitted  to  the  failing  body, 
a  man  deprives  himself  of  his  refreshment, 
although  he  needs  it,  and  only  indulges  in 
just  so  much  food  as  the  strict  judgment  of 
temperance  decides  to  be  sufficient  for  the 
necessities  of  life,  and  not  what  the  longing 
appetite  asks  for.  The  more  delicate  foods, 
as  they  conduce  to  bodily  health,  so  they 
need  not  destroy  the  purity  of  chastity,  if  they 
are  taken  in  .  moderation.  For  whatever 
strength  2  is  gained  by  partaking  of  them  is 
used  up  in  the  toil  and  waste  of  care.  Where- 
fore as  no  state  of  life  can  be  deprived  of  the 
virtue  of  abstinence,  so  to  none  is  the  crown 
of  perfection  denied. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

How  food  should  be   taken  with  regard  to  the  aim  at  perfect 
continence.^ 

And  so  it  is  a  very  true  and  most  excellent 
saying  of  the  Fathers  that  the  right  method 
of  fasting  and  abstinence  lies  in  the  measure 


1  Petschenig's  text  in  this  passage  is  as  follows:  "  Facilius  vidi- 
mus viros  qui  ab  esciscorpuleutioribus  omnimodis  temperarent,  quam 
moderate  usos  pro  necessitate  concessis,  et  qui  totum  sibi  pro  amore 
continentiaj  denegarent,  quam  qui  eas  sub  infirmitatis  occasione 
sumentes  mensuram  sufficiently  custodirent."  Gazaeus  gives  some- 
thing quite  different :  "  Facilius  vidimus  victos  qui  ab  esciscorpuleu- 
tioribus omnimodis  temperarent,  quas  moderate  usus  pro  necessitate 
concedit,  et  qui  totum  sibi  pro  continentiaj  amore  denegarent ;  quam 
qui  eas  sub  infirmitatis  occasione  sumentes  mensuram  sufficientias 
custodirent." 

2  Quidquid enim fortitudinis.  —  Petschenig.  Gaza?us  has  "Quid 
quid  enim  fortitudinis  causii." 

3  Quod  pro  fierfectce  continentite  fine  esca  sumenda  sit.  —  Pet- 
schenig. Quomodo  cibum  appetere,  ac  sumere  liceat  is  the  title  as 
given  by  Gazjeus. 


of  moderation  and  bodily  chastening;  and 
that  this  is  the  aim  of  perfect  virtue  for  all 
alike,  viz.  :  that  though  we  are  still  forced  to 
desire  it,  yet  we  should  exercise  self-restraint 
in  the  matter  of  the  food,  which  we  are  obliged 
to  take  owing  to  the  necessity  of  supporting 
the  body.  For  even  if  one  is  weak  in  body, 
he  can  attain  to  a  perfect  virtue  and  one  equal 
to  that  of  those  who  are  thoroughly  strong  and 
healthy,  if  with  firmness  of  mind  he  keeps  a 
check  upon  the  desires  and  lusts  which  are 
not  due  to  weakness  of  the  flesh.  For  the 
Apostle  says:  "And  take  not  care  for  the  flesh 
in  its  lusts."  4  He  does  not  forbid  care  for  it 
in  every  respect :  but  says  that  care  is  not  to 
be  taken  in  regard  to  its  desires  and  lusts. 
He  cuts  away  the  luxurious  fondness  for  the 
flesh:  he  does  not  exclude  the  control  neces- 
sary for  life :  he  does  the  former,  lest  through 
pampering  the  flesh  we  should  be  involved  in 
dangerous  entanglements  of  the  desires;  the 
latter  lest  the  body  should  be  injured  by  our 
fault  and  unable  to  fulfil  its  spiritual  and  ne- 
cessary duties. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

Of  the  measure  of  the  chastisment  to  be  undertaken,  and  the 
remedy  of  fasting. 

The  perfection  then  of  abstinence  is  not  to 
be  gathered  from  calculations  of  time  alone,  nor 
only  from  the  quality  of  the  food;  but  beyond 
everything  from  the  judgment  of  conscience. 
For  each  one  should  impose  such  a  sparing 
diet  on  himself  as  the  battle  of  his  bodily 
struggle  may  require.  The  canonical  obser- 
vance of  fasts  is  indeed  valuable  and  by  all 
means  to  be  kept.  But  unless  this  is  followed 
by  a  temperate  partaking  of  food,  one  will  not 
be  able  to  arrive  at  the  goal  of  perfection.  ■ 
For  the  abstinence  of  prolonged  fasts  —  where 
repletion  of  body  follows  —  produces  weari-, 
ness  for  a  time  rather  than  purity  and  chastity. 
Perfection  of  mind  indeed  depends  upon  the 
abstinence  of  the  belly.  He  has  no  lasting 
purity  and  chastity,  who  is  not  contented 
always  to  keep  to  a  well-balanced  and  temper- 
ate diet.  Fasting,  although  severe,  yet  if 
unnecessary  relaxation  follows,  is  rendered 
useless,  and  presently  leads  to  the  vice  of 
gluttony.  A  reasonable  supply  of  food  par- 
taken of  daily  with  moderation,  is  better  than 
a  severe  and  long  fast  at  intervals.  Excessive 
fasting  has  been  known  not  only  to  undermine 
the  constancy  of  the  mind,  but  also  to  weaken 
the  power  of  prayers  through  sheer  weariness 
of  body. 


4  Rom.  xiii.  14. 


BOOK   V. 


237 


CHAPTER   X. 

That  abstinence  from  food  is  not  of  itself  sufficient  for  preser- 
vation of  bodily  and  mental  purity. 

In  order  to  preserve  the  mind  and  body  in 
a  perfect  condition  abstinence  from  food  is 
not  alone  sufficient:  unless  the  other  virtues 
of  the  mind  as  well  are  joined  to  it.  And  so 
humility  must  first  be  learned  by  the  virtue  of 
obedience,  and  grinding  toil  l  and  bodily  ex- 
haustion. The  possession  of  money  must  not 
only  be  avoided,  but  the  desire  for  it  must  be 
utterly  rooted  out.  For  it  is  not  enough  not 
to  possess  it,  —  a  thing  which  comes  to  many 
as  a  matter  of  necessity:  but  we  ought,  if  by 
chance  it  is  offered,  not  even  to  admit  the 
wish  to  have  it.  The  madness  of  anger  should 
be  controlled;  the  downcast  look  of  dejec- 
tion be  overcome ;  vainglory  should  be  de- 
spised, the  disdainfulness  of  pride  trampled 
under  foot,  and  the  shifting  and  wandering 
thoughts  of  the  mind  restrained  by  continual 
recollection  of  God.  And  the  slippery  wan- 
derings of  our  heart  should  be  brought  back 
again  to  the  contemplation  of  God  as  often 
as  our  crafty  enemy,  in  his  endeavour  to 
lead  away  the  mind  a  captive  from  this  con- 
sideration, creeps  into  the  innermost  recesses 
of  the  heart. 


CHAPTER   XL 

That  bodily  lusts  are  not  extinguished  except  by  the  entire 
rooting  out  of  vice. 

For  it  is  an  impossibility  that  the  fiery 
motions  of  the  body  can  be  extinguished,  be- 
fore the  incentives  of  the  other  chief  vices  are 
utterly  rooted  out:  concerning  which  we  will 
speak  in  their  proper  place,  if  God  permits, 
separately,  in  different  books.  But  now  we 
have  to  deal  with  Gluttony,  that  is  the  desire 
of  the  palate,  against  which  our  first  battle  is. 
He  then  will  never  be  able  to  check  the  mo- 
tions of  a  burning  lust,  who  cannot  restrain  the 
desires  of  the  appetite.  The  chastity  of  the 
inner  man  is  shown  by  the  perfection  of  this 
virtue.  For  you  will  never  feel  sure  that  he 
can  strive  against  the  opposition  of  a  stronger 
enemy,  whom  you  have  seen  overcome  by 
weaker  ones  in  a  higher  conflict.  For  of  all 
virtues  the  nature  is  but  one  and  the  same, 
although  they  appear  to  be  divided  into  many 
different  kinds  and  names:  just  as  there  is 
but  one  substance  of  gold,  although  it  raav 


1  Operis  contritione  (Petschenig) :  cordis  cantritione  (Gazaeus). 


seem  to  be  distributed  through  many  different 
kinds  of  jewelry  according  to  the  skill  of  the 
goldsmith.  And  so  he  is  proved  to  possess 
no  virtue  perfectly,  who  is  known  to  have 
broken  down  in  some  part  of  them.  For  Kow 
can  we  believe  that  that  man  has  extinguished 
the  burning  heats  of  concupiscence  (which  are 
kindled  not  only  by  bodily  incitement  but  by 
vice  of  the  mind),  who  could  not  assuage  the 
sharp  stings  of  anger  which  break  out  from 
intemperance  of  heart  alone  ?  Or  how  can.  we 
think  that  he  has  repressed  the  wanton  desires 
of  the  flesh  and  spirit,  who  has  not  been  able 
to  conquer  the  simple  fault  of  pride?  Or  how 
can  we  believe  that  one  has  trampled  under 
foot  a  wantonness  which  is  ingrained  in  the 
flesh,  who  has  not  been  able  to  disown  the 
love  of  money,  which  is  something  external 
and  outside  our  own  substance  ?  In  what  way 
will  he  triumph  in  the  war  of  flesh  and  spirit, 
who .  has  not  been  man  enough  to  cure  the 
disease  of  dejection?  However  great  a  city 
may  be  protected  by  the  height  of  its  walls 
and  the  strength  of  its  closed  gates,  yet  it  is 
laid  waste  by  the  giving  up  of  one  postern 
however  small.  For  what  difference  does  it 
make  whether  a  dangerous  foe  makes  his  way 
into  the  heart  of  the  city  over  high  walls,  and 
through  the  wide  spaces  of  the  gate,  or  through 
secret  and  narrow  passages  ? 


CHAPTER   XII. 

That  in  our  spiritual  contest  we  ought  to  draw  an  example  from 
the  carnal  contests. 

"One  who  strives  in  the  games  is  not 
crowned  unless  he  has  contended  lawfully."2 
One  who  wants  to  extinguish  the  natural 
desires  of  the  flesh,  should  first  hasten  to 
overcome  those  vices  whose  seat  is  outside 
our  nature.  For  if  we  desire  to  make  trial  of 
the  force  of  the  Apostle's  saying,  we  ought  first 
to  learn  what  are  the  laws  and  what  the  disci- 
pline of  the  world's  contest,  so  that  finally  by 
a  comparison  with  these,  we  may  be  able  to 
know  what  the  blessed  Apostle  meant  to  teach 
to  us  who  are  striving  in  a  spiritual  contest 
by  this  illustration.  For  in  these  conflicts, 
which,  as  the  same  Apostle  says,  hold  out  "  a 
corruptible  crown"  3  to  the  victors,  this  rule  is 
kept,  that  he  who  aims  at  preparing  himself 
for  the  crown  of  glory,  which  js  embellished 
with  the  privilege  of  exemption,  and  who  is 
anxious  to  enter  the  highest  struggle  in  the 


2  2  Tim.  ii.  5. 


3  1  Cor.  ix.  25. 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


contest,  should  first  in  the  Olympic  and  Pyth- 
ian games  give  evidence  of  his  abilities  as  a 
youth,  and  his  strength  in  its  first  beginnings ; 
since  in  these  the  younger  men  who  want  to 
practise  this  training  are  tested  as  to  whether 
they  deserve  or  ought  to  be  admitted  to  it,  by 
the  judgment  both  of  the  president  of  the 
games  and  of  the  whole  multitude.  And  when 
any  one  has  been  carefully  tested,  and  has  first 
been  proved  to  be  stained  by  no  infamy  of  life, 
and  then  has  been  adjudged  not  ignoble 
through  the  yoke  of  slavery,  and  for  this 
reason  unworthy  to  be  admitted  to  this  train- 
ing and  to  the  company  of  those  who  practise 
it,  and  when  thirdly  he  produces  sufficient 
evidence  of  his  ability  and  prowess  and  by 
striving  with  the  younger  men  and  his  own 
compeers  has  shown  both  his  skill  and  valour 
as  a  youth,  and  going  forward  from  the  con- 
tests of  boys  has  been  by  the  scrutiny  of  the 
president  permitted  to  mix  with  full-grown 
men  and  those  of  approved  experience,  and 
has  not  only  shown  himself  their  equal  in 
valour  by  constant  striving  with  them,  but  has 
also  many  a  time  carried  off  the  prize  of  vic- 
tory among  them,  then  at  last  he  is  allowed  to 
approach  the  most  illustrious  conflict  of  the 
games,  permission  to  contend  in  which  is 
granted  to  none  but  victors  and  those  who  are 
decked  with  many  crowns  and  prizes.  If  we 
understand  this  illustration  from  a  carnal 
contest,  we  ought  by  a  comparison  with  it  to 
know  what  is  the  system  and  method  of  our 
spiritual  conflict  as  well. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

That  we  cannot  enter  the  battle  of  the  inner  man  unless  we 
have  been  set  free  from  the  vice  of  gluttony. 

We  also  ought  first  to  give  evidence  of  our 
freedom  from  subjection  to  the  iLsh.  For 
"  of  whom  a  man  is  overcome,  of  the  same  is 
he  the  slave. "  x  And  "  every  one  that  doeth  sin 
is  the  slave  of  sin."  2  And  when  the  scrutiny 
of  the  president  of  the  contest  finds  that  we 
are  stained  by  no  infamy  of  disgraceful  lust, 
and  when  we  are  judged  by  him  not  to  be 
slaves  of  the  flesh,  and  ignoble  and  unworthy 
of  the  Olympic  struggle  against  our  vices, 
then  we  shall  be  able  to  enter  the  lists  against 
our  equals,  that  is  the  lusts  of  the  flesh  and 
the  motions  and  disturbances  of  the  soul. 
For  it  is  impossible  for  a  full  belly  to  make 
trial  of  the  combat  of  the  inner  man:  nor  is 
he  worthy  to  be  tried  in  harder  battles,  who 
can  be  overcome  in  a  slight  skirmish. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

How  gluttonous  desires  can  be  overcome. 

First  then  we  must  trample  under  foot  glut- 
tonous desires,  and  to  this  end  the  mind  must 
be  reduced  not  only  by  fasting,  but  also  by 
vigils,  by  reading,  and  by  frequent  compunc- 
tion of  heart  for  those  things  in  which  perhaps 
it  recollects  that  it  has  been  deceived  or  over- 
come, sighing  at  one  time  with  horror  at  sin, 
at  another  time  inflamed  with  the  desire  of 
perfection  and  saintliness:  until  it  is  fully 
occupied  and  possessed  by  such  cares  and 
meditations,  and  recognizes  the  participation 
of  food  to  be  not  so  much  a  concession  to 
pleasure,  as  a  burden  laid  upon  it;  and  con- 
siders it  to  be  rather  a  necessity  for  the  body 
than  anything  desirable  for  the  soul.  And, 
preserved  by  this  zeal  of  mind  and  continual 
compunction,  we  shall  beat  down  the  wanton- 
ness of  the  flesh  (which  becomes  more  proud 
and  haughty  by  being  fomented  with  food) 
and  its  dangerous  incitement,  and  so  by  the 
copiousness  of  our  tears  and  the  weeping  of 
our  heart  we  shall  succeed  in  extinguishing 
the  fiery  furnace  of  our  body,  which  is  kindled 
by  the  Babylonish  king8  who  continually  fur- 
nishes us  with  opportunities  for  sin,  and  vices 
with  which  we  burn  more  fiercely,  instead  of 
naphtha  and  pitch  —  until,  through  the  grace 
of  God,  instilled  like  dew  by  His  Spirit  in 
our  hearts,  the  heats  of  fleshly  lusts  can  be 
altogether  deadened.  This  then  is  our  first 
contest,  this  is  as  it  were  our  first  trial  in  the 
Olympic  games,  to  extinguish  the  desires  of 
the  palate  and  the  belly  by  the  longing  for 
perfection.  On  which  account  we  must  not 
only  trample  down  all  unnecessary  desire  for 
food  by  the  contemplation  of  the  virtues, 
but  also  must  take  what  is  necessary  for  the 
support  of  nature,  not  without  anxiety  of  heart, 
as  if  it  were  opposed  to  chastity.  And  so  at 
length  we  may  enter  on  the  course  of  our  life, 
so  that  there  may  be  no  time  in  which  we  feel 
that  we  are  recalled  from  our  spiritual  studies, 
further  than  when  we  are  obliged  by  the  weak- 
ness of  the  body  to  descend  for  the  needful 
care  of  it.  And  when  we  are  subjected  to 
this  necessity  —  of  attending  to  the  wants  of 
life  rather  than  the  desires  of  the  soul  —  we 
should  hasten  to  withdraw  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible from  it,  as  if  it  kept  us  back  from  really 
health-giving  studies.  For  we  cannot  pos- 
sibly scorn  the  gratification  of  food  presented 
to  us,  unless  the  mind  is  fixed  on  the  contem- 
plation of    divine  things,    and  is   the  rather 


1  2  Pet.  ii.  19. 


2  John  viii.  34 


3  Cf.  Dan.  iii.6;  and  see  below  Book  VI.  c.  xvii.  where  Cassian 
once  more  speaks  of  the  devil  as  the  Babylonish  king. 


BOOK   V. 


239 


entranced  with  the  love  of  virtue  and  the 
delight  of  things  celestial.  And  so  a  man 
will  despise  all  things  present  as  transitory, 
when  he  has  securely  fixed  his  mental  gaze  on 
those  things  which  are  immovable  and  eternal, 
and  already  contemplates  in  heart  —  though 
still  in  the  flesh  —  the  blessedness  of  his 
future  life. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

How  a  monk  must  always  be  eager  to  preserve  his  purity  of 
heart. 

It  is  like  the  case  when  one  endeavours  to 
strike  some  mighty  prize  of  virtue  on  high 
pointed  out  by  some  very  small  mark;  with 
the  keenest  eyesight  he  points  the  aim  of  his 
dart,  knowing  that  large  rewards  of  glory  and 
prizes  depend  on  his  hitting  it;  and  he 
turns  away  his  gaze  from  every  other  consid- 
eration, and  must  direct  it  thither,  where  he 
sees  that  the  reward  and  prize  is  placed,  be- 
cause he  would  be  sure  to  lose  the  prize  of  his 
skill  and  the  reward  of  his  prowess  if  the 
keenness  of  his  gaze  should  be  diverted  ever 
so  little.1 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

How,  after  the  fashion  of  the  Olympic  games,  a  monk  should 
not  attempt  spiritual  conflicts  unless  he  has  won  battles  over 
the  flesh. 

And  so  when  the  desires  of  the  belly  and  of 
the  palate  have  been  by  these  considerations 
overcome,  and  when  we  have  been  declared, 
as  in  the  Olympic  contests,  neither  slaves  of 
the  flesh  nor  infamous  through  the  brand  of  sin, 
we  shall  be  adjudged  to  be  worthy  of  the  con- 
test in  higher  struggles  as  well,  and,  leaving 
behind  lessons  of  this  kind,  may  be  believed 
capable  of  entering  the  lists  against  spiritual 
wickednesses,  against  which  only  victors  and 
those  who  are  allowed  to  contend  in  a  spiritual 
conflict  are  deemed  worthy  to  struggle.  For 
this  is  so  to  speak  a  most  solid  foundation  of 
all  the  conflicts,  viz.  :  that  in  the  first  instance 
the  impulses  of  carnal  desires  should  be 
destroyed.  For  no  one  can  lawfully  strive 
unless  his  own  flesh  has  been  overcome.  And 
one  who  does  not  strive  lawfully  certainly 
cannot  take  a  share  in  the  contest,  nor  win  a 
crown  of  glory  and  the  grace  of  victory.  But 
if  we  have  been  overcome  in  this  battle,  hav- 
ing been  proved  as  it  were  slaves  of  carnal 
lusts,  and  thus  displaying  the  tokens  neither  of 


1  Compare  a  similar  illustration  in  the  Conferences  I.  v. 


freedom  nor  of  strength,  we  shall  be  straight- 
way repulsed  from  the  conflicts  with  spiritual 
hosts,  as  unworthy  and  as  slaves,  with  every 
mark  of  confusion.  For  "  every  one  that  doeth 
sin  is  the  servant  of  sin."  2  And  this  will  be 
addressed  to  us  by  the  blessed  Apostle,  to- 
gether with  those  among  whom  fornication  is 
named.  "Temptation  does  not  overtake  you, 
except  such  as  is  human."  3  For  if  we  do  not 
seek  for  strength  of  mind  i  we  shall  not  deserve 
to  make  trial  of  severer  contest  against  wicked- 
ness on  high,  if  we  have  been  unable  to  sub- 
due our  weak  flesh  which  resists  the  spirit. 
And  some  not  understanding  this  testimony  of 
the  Apostle,  have  read  the  subjunctive  instead 
of  the  indicative  mood,  i.e.,  "  Let  no  tempta- 
tion overcome  you,  except  such  as  is  human."  6 
But  it  is  clear  that  it  is  rather  said  by  him 
with  the  meaning  not  of  a  wish  but  of  a  dec- 
laration or  rebuke. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

That  the  foundation  and  basis  of  the  spiritual  combat  must  be 
laid  in  the  struggle  against  gluttony. 

Would  you  like  to  hear  a  true  athlete  of 
Christ  striving  according  to  the  rules  and 
laws  of  the  conflict?  "I,"  said  he,  "so  run, 
not  as  uncertainly;  I  so  fight,  not  as  one  that 
beateth  the  air:  but  I  chastise  my  body  and 
bring  it  into  subjection,  lest  by  any  means  when 
I  have  preached  to  others  I  myself  should  be  a 
castaway."  6  You  see  how  he  made  the  chief 
part  of  the  struggle  depend  upon  himself,  that  is 
upon  his  flesh,  as  if  on  a  most  sure  foundation, 
and  placed  the  result  of  the  battle  simply  in 
the  chastisement  of  the  flesh  and  the  subjec- 
tion of  his  body.  "  I  then  so  run  not  as  un- 
certainly." He  does  not  run  uncertainly, 
because,7  looking  to  the  heavenly  Jerusalem, 
he  has  a  mark  set,  towards  which  his  heart  is 
swiftly  directed  without  swerving.  He  does 
not  run  uncertainly,  because,  "forgetting  those 
things  which  are  behind,  he  reaches  forth  to 
those  that  are  before,  pressing  towards  the 
mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesus,"  8  whither  he  ever  directs  his 
mental  gaze,  and  hastening  towards  it  with 
all  speed  9  of  heart,  proclaims  with  confidence, 
"I  have  fought  a  good  fight,  I  have  finished 


2  S.  John  viii.  34. 

3  1  Cor.  x.  13. 

*  Mentis  robore  non  qucesito.  —  Petschenig.  Gazasus  omits  the 
negative  and  reads  conquisito. 

5  S.  Jerome's  version,  which  was  certainly  known  to  Cassian  (cf. 
Conferences  XXIII.  viii.)  has  "  Temptatio  vos  non  apprehendat 
nisi  humana." 

6  1  Cor.  ix.  26,  27. 

7  Quia  (Petschenig)  :   Qui  (Gazseus). 

8  Phil.  iii.  13,  14. 

9  Properatione,  others  Prceparatione. 


240 


THE    INSTITUTES  OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


my  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith."1  And 
because  he  knows  he  has  run  unweariedly 
"after  the  odour  of  the  ointment"2  of  Christ 
with  ready  devotion  of  heart,  and  has  won  the 
battle  of  the  spiritual  combat  by  the  chastise- 
ment of  the  flesh,  he  boldly  concludes  and  says, 
"  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown 
of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  righteous 
judge,  will  give  to  me  in  that  day."  And  that 
he  might  open  up  to  us  also  a  like  hope  of 
reward,  if  we  desire  to  imitate  him  in  the 
struggle  of  his  course,  he  added:  "But  not  to 
me  only,  but  to  all  also  who  love  His  com- 
ing ;  "  3  declaring  that  we  shall  be  sharers  of  his 
crown  in  the  day  of  judgment,  if  we  love  the 
coming  of  Christ  —  not  that  one  only  which 
will  be  manifest  to  men  even  against  their 
will;  but  also  this  one  which  daily  comes  to 
pass  in  holy  souls  —  and  if  we  gain  the  victory 
in  the  fight  by  chastising  the  body.  And  of 
this  coming  it  is  that  the  Lord  speaks  in  the 
Gospel.  "I,"  says  He,  "and  my  Father  will 
come  to  him,  and  will  make  our  abode  with 
him."  4  And  again:  "Behold,  I  stand  at  the 
door  and  knock :  if  any  man  hear  my  voice  and 
open  the  gate,  I  will  come  in  to  him  and  will 
sup  with  him,  and  he  with  me."  6 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Of  the  number  of  different  conflicts  and  victories  through  which 
the  blessed  Apostle  ascended  to  the  crown  of  the  highest 
combat. 

But  he  does  not  mean  that  he  has  only 
finished  the  contest  of  a  race  when  he  says  "  I 
so  run,  not  as  uncertainly  "  (a  phrase  which 
has  more  particularly  to  do  with  the  intention 
of  the  mind  and  fervour  of  his  spirit,  in  which 
he  followed  Christ  with  all  zeal,  cjying  out 
with  the  Bride,  "We  will  run  after  thee  for 
the  odour  of  thine  ointments;"6  and  again, 
"  My  soul  cleaveth  unto  thee :  "  7  but  he  also 
testifies  that  he  has  conquered  in  another  kind 
of  contest,  saying,  "  So  fight  I,  not  as  one  that 
beateth  the  air,  but  I  chastise  my  body  and 
bring  it  into  subjection."  And  this  properly 
has  to  do  with  the  pains  of  abstinence,  and 
bodily  fasting  and  affliction  of  the  flesh:  as  he 
means  by  this  that  he  is  a  vigorous  bruiser  of 
his  own  flesh,  and  points  out  that  not  in  vain 
has  he  planted  his  blows  of  continence  against 
it;  but  that  he  has  gained  a  battle  triumph  by 
mortifying  his  own  body;  for  when  it  is  chas- 
tised with  the  blows  of  continence  and  struck 
down  with  the  boxing-gloves  of  fasting,  he  has 


1  2  Tim.  iv.  7. 

2  Cant.  i.  3. 

3  2  Tim.  iv.  S. 

4  John  xiv.  23. 


5  Rev.  iii.  20. 

6  Cant.  i.  3. 

7  Ps.  lxii.  (lxiii.)  9. 


secured  for  his  victorious  spirit  the  crown 
of  immortality  and  the  prize  of  incorruption. 
You  see  the  orthodox  method  of  the  contest, 
and  consider  the  issue  of  spiritual  combats : 
how  the  athlete  of  Christ  having  gained  a 
victory  over  the  rebellious  flesh,  having  cast 
it  as  it  were  under  his  feet,  is  carried  forward 
as  triumphing  on  high.  And  therefore  "he 
does  not  run  uncertainly,"  because  he  trusts 
that  he  will  forthwith  enter  the  holy  city,  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem.  He  "so  fights,"  that  is 
with  fasts  and  humiliation  of  the  flesh,  "not 
as  one  that  beateth  the  air,"  that  is,  striking 
into  space  with  blows  of  continence,  through 
which  he  struck  not  the  empty  air,  but  those 
spirits  who  inhabit  it,  by  the  chastisement  of 
his  body.  For  one  who  says  "not  as  one  that 
beateth  the  air,"  shows  that  he  strikes  —  not 
empty  and  void  air,  but  certain  beings  in  the 
air.  And  because  he  had  overcome  in  this 
kind  of  contest,  and  marched  on  enriched  with 
the  rewards  of  many  crowns,  not  undeservedly 
does  he  begin  to  enter  the  lists  against  still 
more  powerful  foes,  and  having  triumphed  over 
his  former  rivals,  he  boldly  makes  proclama- 
tion and  says,  "  Now  our  striving  is  not  against 
flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principalities, 
against  powers,  against  world-rulers  of  this 
darkness,  against  spiritual  wickedness  in 
heavenly  places."  8 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

That  the  athlete  of  Christ,  so  long  as  he  is  in  the  body,  is 
never  without  a  battle. 

The  athlete  of  Christ,  as  long  as  he  is  in 
the  body,  is  never  in  want  of  a  victory  to 
be  gained  in  contests :  but  in  proportion  as 
he  grows  by  triumphant  successes,  so  does  a 
severer  kind  of  struggle  confront  him.  For 
when  the  flesh  is  subdued  and  conquered, 
what  swarms  of  foes,  what  hosts  of  enemies 
are  incited  by  his  triumphs  and  rise  up  against 
the  victorious  soldier  of  Christ  !  for  fear  lest 
in  the  ease  of  peace  the  soldier  of  Christ  might 
relax  his  efforts  and  begin  to  forget  the  glori- 
ous struggles  of  his  contests,  and  be  rendered 
slack  through  the  idleness  which  is  caused  by 
immunity  from  danger,  and  be  cheated  of  the 
reward  of  his  prizes  and  the  recompense  of  his 
triumphs.  And  so  if  we  want  to  rise  with  ever- 
growing virtue  to  these  stages  of  triumph  we 
ought  also  in  the  same  way  to  enter  the  lists  of 
battle  and  begin  by  saying  with  the  Apostle : 
"  I  so  fight,  not  as  one  that  beateth  the  air, 
but  I  chastise  my  body  and  bring  it  into  sub- 


Eph.  vi.  12. 


BOOK   V. 


241 


jection,"1  that  when  this  conflict  is  ended 
we  may  once  more  be  able  to  say  with  him : 
"we  wrestle  not  against  flesh  and  blood,  but 
against  principalities,  against  powers,  against 
world-rulers  of  this  darkness,  against  spiritual 
wickedness  in  heavenly  places."2  For  other- 
wise we  cannot  possibly  join  battle  with  them 
nor  deserve  to  make  trial  of  spiritual  combats 
if  we  are  baffled  in  a  carnal  contest,  and  smit- 
ten down  in  a  struggle  with  the  belly:  and 
/deservedly  will  it  be  said  of  us  by  the  Apostle 
'in  the  language  of  blame :  "  Temptation  does 
not  overtake  you,  except  what  is  common  to 
man."  3 

CHAPTER  XX. 

How  a  monk  should  not  overstep  the  proper  hours  for  taking 
food,  if  he  wants  to  proceed  to  the  struggle  of  interior 
conflicts. 

A  monk  therefore  who  wants  to  proceed  to 
the  struggle  of  interior  conflicts  should  lay 
down  this  as  a  precaution  for  himself  to  begin 
with:  viz.  :  that  he  will  not  in  any  case  allow 
himself  to  be  overcome  by  any  delicacies,  or 
,take  anything  to  eat  or  drink  before  the  fast  4 
|is  over  and  the  proper  hour  for  refreshment 
/has  come,  outside  meal  times;5  nor,  when  the 
meal  is  over,  will  he  allow  himself  to  take  a 
morsel  however  small;  and  likewise  that  he 
will  observe  the  canonical  time  and  measure 
of  sleep.  For  that  self-indulgence  must  be 
cut  off  in  the  same  way  that  the  sin  of  un- 
ohastity  has  to  be  rooted  out.  For  if  a  man 
is  unable  to  check  the  unnecessary  desires  of 
the  appetite  how  will  he  be  able  to  extinguish 
the  fire  of  carnal  lust?  And  if  a  man  is  not 
able  to  control  passions,  which  are  openly 
manifest  and  are  but  small,  how  will  he  be 
able  with  temperate  discretion  to  fight  against 
those  which  are  secret,  and  excite  him,  when 
none  are  there  to  see  ?  And  therefore  strength 
of  mind  is  tested  in  separate  impulses  and  in 
any  sort  of  passion :  and  if  it  is  overcome  in 
the  case  of  very  small  and  manifest  desires, 
how  it  will  endure  in  those  that  are  really 
great  and  powerful  and  hidden,  each  man's 
conscience  must  witness  for  himself. 


1  1  Cor.  ix.  26,  27. 

2  Eph.  vi.  12. 

3  1  Cor.  x.  13. 

4  Statio.  This  is  properly  the  term  for  the  weekly  fasts  on  Wed- 
nesday and  Friday,  observed  by  the  early  Church  in  memory  of  our 
Lord's  betrayal  and  crucifixion.  See  Tertullian  on  Prayer  c.  xix. ; 
on  Fasting  c.  i.  x.  In  this  place  the  word  appears  to  be  used  by 
Cassian  for  the  close  of  the  fast ;  while  elsewhere  he  uses  it  for  fast- 
ing generally  (not  specially  on  Wednesday  and  Friday,)  as  in  c.  xxiv. 
of  the  present  book,  and  in  the  Conferences,  II.  xxv.  ;  XXI.  xxi. 
The  origin  of  the  word  is  somewhat  uncertain  (a)  because  the  fast 
was  observed  on  stated  days  (statis  diebus) ;  or  (b),  as  S.  Ambrose 
suggests,  because  "  our  fasts  are  our  encampments  which  protect  us 
from  the  devil's  attacks  :  in  short,  they  are  called  stationes,  because 
standing  {stantes)  and  staying  in  them  we  repel  our  plotting  foe  " 
(Serm.  25).     See  Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiquities,  vol.  ii.  p.  192S. 

5  Extra  metisam. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Of  the  inward  peace  of  a  monk,  and  of  spiritual  abstinence. 

For  it  is  not  an  external  enemy  whom  we 
have  to  dread.  Our  foe  is  shut  up  within 
ourselves :  an  internal  warfare  is  daily  waged 
by  us:  and  if  we  are  victorious  in  this,  all 
external  things  will  be  made  weak,  and  every- 
thing will  be  made  peaceful  and  subdued  for 
the  soldier  of  Christ.  We  shall  have  no  ex- 
ternal enemy  to  fear,  if  what  is  within  is  over- 
come and  subdued  to  the  spirit.  And  let  us 
not  believe  that  that  external  fast  from  visible 
food  alone  can  possibly  be  sufficient  for  per- 
fection of  heart  and  purity  of  body  unless 
with  it  there  has  also  been  united  a  fast  of 
the  soul.  For  the  soul  also  has  its  foods 
which  are  harmful,  fattened  on  which,  even 
without  superfluity  of  meats,  it  is  involved  in 
a  downfall  of  wantonness.  Slander  is  its  food, 
and  indeed  one  that  is  very  dear  to  it.  A 
burst  of  anger  also  is  its  food,  even  if  it  be  a 
very  slight  one;  yet  supplying  it  with  miser- 
able food  for  an  hour,  and  destroying  it  as 
well  with  its  deadly  savour.  Envy  is  a  food 
of  the  mind,  corrupting  it  with  its  poisonous 
juices  and  never  ceasing  to  make  it  wretched 
and  miserable  at  the  prosperity  and  success 
of  another.  Kenodoxia,  i.e.,  vainglory  is  its 
food,  which  gratifies  it  with  a  delicious  meal 
for  a  time ;  but  afterwards  strips  it  clear  and 
bare  of  all  virtue,  and  dismisses  it  barren  and 
void  of  all  spiritual  fruit,  so  that  it  makes  it 
not  only  lose  the  rewards  of  huge  labours,  but 
also  makes  it  incur  heavier  punishments.  All 
lust  and  shifty  wanderings  of  heart  are  a  sort 
of  food  for  the  soul,  nourishing  it  on  harmful 
meats,  but  leaving  it  afterwards  without  share 
of  the  heavenly  bread  and  of  really  solid  food. 
If  then,  with  all  the  powers  we  have,  we  ab- 
stain from  these  in  a  most  holy  fast,  our  obser- 
vance of  the  bodily  fast  will  be  both  useful 
and  profitable.  For  labour  of  the  flesh,  when 
joined  with  contrition  of  the  spirit,  will  pro- 
duce a  sacrifice  that  is  most  acceptable  to 
God,  and  a  worthy  shrine  of  holiness  in  the 
pure  and  undefiled  inmost  chambers  of  the 
heart.  But  if,  while  fasting  as  far  as  the  body 
is  concerned,  we  are  entangled  in  the  most 
dangerous  vices  of  the  soul,  our  humiliation 
of  the  flesh  will  do  us  no  good  whatever,  while 
the  most  precious  part  of  us  is  defiled:  since 
we  go  wrong  through  that  substance  by  virtue 
of  which  we  are  made  a  shrine  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  For  it  is  not  so  much  the  corruptible 
flesh  as  the  clean  heart,  which  is  made  a 
shrine  for  God,  and  a  temple  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  We  ought  therefore,  whenever  the 
outward  man  fasts,  to  restrain  the  inner  man 


242 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


as  well  from  food  which  is  bad  for  him:  that 
inner  man,  namely,  which  the  blessed  Apostle 
above  all  urges  us  to  present  pure  before  God, 
that  it  may  be  found  worthy  to  receive  Christ 
as  a  guest  within,  saying  "that  in  the  inner 
man  Christ  may  dwell  in  your  hearts  through 
faith."1 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

That  we  should  for  this  reason  practise  bodily  abstinence  that 
we  may  by  it  attain  to  a  spiritual  fast. 

And  so  we  know  that  we  ought  therefore  to 
bestow  attention  on  bodily  abstinence,  that  we 
may  by  this  fasting  attain  to  purity  of  heart. 
Otherwise  our  labours  will  be  spent  in  vain,  if 
we  endure  this  without  weariness,  in  contem- 
plating the  end,  but  are  unable  to  reach  the 
end  for  which  we  have  endured  such  trials; 
and  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  ab- 
stained from  the  forbidden  foods  of  the  soul, 
than  to  have  fasted  with  the  body  from  things 
indifferent  and  harmless,  for  in  the  case  of 
these  latter  there  is  a  simple  and  harmless 
reception  of  a  creature  of  God,  which  in  itself 
has  nothing  wrong  about  it:  but  in  the  case 
of  the  former  there  is  at  the  very  first  a  danger- 
ous tendency  to  devour  the  brethren;  of  which 
it  is  said,  "  Do  not  love  backbiting  lest  thou 
be  rooted  out."2  And  concerning  anger  and 
jealousy  the  blessed  Job  says :  "  For  anger 
slayeth  a  fool,  and  envy  killeth  a  child."3  And 
at  the  same  time  it  should  be  noticed  that  he 
who  is  angered  is  set  down  as  a  fool;  and 
he  who  is  jealous,  as  a  child.  For  the  former 
is  not  undeservedly  considered  a  fool,  since  of 
his  own  accord  he  brings  death  upon  himself, 
being  goaded  by  the  stings  of  anger;  and  the 
latter,  while  he  is  envious,  proves  that  he  is  a 
child  and  a  minor,  for  while  he  envies  another 
he  shows  that  the  one  at  whose  prosperity  he 
is  vexed,  is  greater  than  he. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

What  should  be  the  character  of  the  monk's  food. 

We  should  then  choose  for  our  food,  not 
only  that  which  moderates  the  heat  of  burn- 
ing lust,  and  avoids  kindling  it;  but  what  is 
easily  got  ready,  and  what  is  recommended 
by  its  cheapness,  and  is  suitable  to  the  life  of 
the  brethren  and  their  common  use.  For  the 
nature  of  gluttony  is  threefold:  first,  there  is 
that  which  forces  us  to  anticipate  the  proper 

1  Eph.  iii.  16,  17.         a  Prov.  xx.  13.  (LXX.).        3  Job  v.  2. 


hour  for  a  meal,  next  that  which  delights  in 
stuffing  the  stomach,  and  gorging  all  kinds  of 
food ;  thirdly,  that  which  takes  pleasure  in  more 
refined  and  delicate  feasting.  And  so  against 
it  a  monk  should  observe  a  threefold  watch : 
first,  he  should  wait  till  the  proper  time  for 
breaking  the  fast;  secondly,  he  should  not 
give  way  to  gorging;  thirdly,  he  should  be  con- 
tented with  any  of  the  commoner  sorts  of  food. 
For  anything  that  is  taken  over  and  above 
what  is  customary  and  the  common  use  of  all, 
is  branded  by  the  ancient  tradition  of  the 
fathers  as  defiled  with  the  sin  of  vanity  and 
glorying  and  ostentation.  Nor  of  those  whom 
we  have  seen  to  be  deservedly  eminent  for 
learning  and  discretion,  or  whom  the  grace  of 
Christ  has  singled  out  as  shining  lights  for 
every  one  to  imitate,  have  we  known  any  who 
have  abstained  from  eating  bread  which  is 
accounted  cheap  and  easily  to  be  obtained 
among  them ;  nor  have  we  seen  that  any  one 
who  has  rejected  this  rule  and  given  up  the  use 
of  bread  and  taken  to  a  diet  of  beans  or  herbs 
or  fruits,  has  been  reckoned  among  the  most 
esteemed,  or  even  acquired  the  grace  of  know- 
ledge and  discretion.  For  not  only  do  they 
lay  it  down  that  a  monk  ought  not  to  ask  for 
foods  which  are  not  customary  for  others,  lest 
his  mode  of  life  should  be  exposed  publicly 
to  all  and  rendered  vain  and  idle  and  so  be 
destroyed  by  the  disease  of  vanity;  but  they 
insist  that  the  common  chastening  disci- 
pline of  fasts  ought  not  lightly  to  be  disclosed 
to  any  one,  but  as  far  as  possible  concealed 
and  kept  secret.  But  when  any  of  the  breth- 
ren arrive  they  rule  that  we  ought  to  show  the 
virtues  of  kindness  and  charity  instead  of 
observing  a  severe  abstinence  and  our  strict 
daily  rule :  nor  should  we  consider  what  our 
own  wishes  and  profit  or  the  ardour  of  our 
desires  may  require,  but  set  before  us  and 
gladly  fulfil  whatever  the  refreshment  of  the 
guest,  or  his  weakness  may  demand  from  us. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

How  in  Egypt  we  saw  that  the  daily  fast  was  broken  without 
scruple  on  our  arrival. 

When  we  had  come  from  the  region  of  Syria 
and  had  sought  the  province  of  Egypt,  in  Our 
desire  to  learn  the  rules  of  the  Elders,  we  were 
astonished  at  the  alacrity  of  heart  with  which 
we  were  there  received  so  that  no  rule  forbid- 
ding refreshment  till  the  appointed  hour  of 
the  fast  was  over  was  observed,  such  as  we 
had  been  brought  up  to  observe  in  the  monas- 
teries of  Palestine;  but  except  in  the  case  of 
the  regular  days,  Wednesdays  and    Fridays, 


BOOK   V. 


243 


wherever  we  went  the  daily  fast 1  was  broken : 2 
and  when  we  asked  why  the  daily  fast  was 
thus  ignored  by  them  without  scruple  one  of 
the  elders  replied:  "The  opportunity  for  fast- 
ing is  always  with  me.  But  as  I  am  going 
to  conduct  you  on  your  way,  I  cannot  always 
keep  you  with  me.  And  a  fast,  although  it 
is  useful  and  advisable,  is  yet  a  free-will  offer- 
ing. But  the  exigencies  of  a  command  require 
the  fulfilment  of  a  work  of  charity.  And  so 
receiving  Christ  in  you  I  ought  to  refresh  Him  : 
but  when  I  have  sent  you  on  your  way  I  shall 
be  able  to  balance  the  hospitality  offered  for 
His  sake  by  a  stricter  fast  on  my  own  account. 
For  '  the  children  of  the  bridegroom  cannot 
fast  while  the  bridegroom  is  with  them :  ' 3  but 
when  he  has  departed,  then  they  will  rightly 
fast." 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

Of  the  abstinence  of  one  old  man  who  took  food  six  times  so 
sparingly  that  he  was  still  hungry. 

When  one  of  the  elders  was  pressing  me  to 
eat  a  little  more  as  I  was  taking  refreshment, 
and  I  said  that  I  could  not,  he  replied:  "I 
have  already  laid  my  table  six  times  for  differ- 
ent brethren  who  had  arrived,  and,  pressing 
each  of  them,  I  partook  of  food  with  him,  and 
am  still  hungry,  and  do  you,  who  now  partake 
of  refreshment  for  the  first  time,  say  that  you 
cannot  eat  any  more  ?  " 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Of  another  old  man,  who  never  partook  of  food  alone  in  his  cell. 

We  have  seen  another  who  lived  alone,  who 
declared  that  he  had  never  enjoyed  food  by 
himself  alone,  but  that  even  if  for  five  days 
running  none  of  the  brethren  came  to  his  cell 
he  constantly  put  off  taking  food  until  on 
Saturday  or  Sunday  he  went  to  church  for  ser- 
vice and  found  some  stranger  whom  he  brought 


1  Statio. 

2  The  allusion  is  here  to  the  sparing  diet  and  voluntary  fasts  of 
the  monks,  among  whom  but  one  meal  a  day  was  usual  (see  the  note 
on  III.  xiii.) ;  and  though  this  was  ordinarily  taken  at  midday,  yet 
many  of  the  more  celebrated  anchorites  never  broke  their  fast  till 
the  evening;  e.g.  S.  Antony  is  said  never  to  have  eaten  till  sunset 
(Vita  Anton.),  and  S.  Jerome  gives  a  similar  account  of  Hilarion  (Vita 
Hil.  §  4),  while  other  instances  of  voluntary  fasts  are  given  by  Cas- 
sian  in  the  following  chapters,  xxv.-xxvii.  The  "  station  "  days,  how- 
ever, viz.,  Wednesday  and  Friday,  being  of  ecclesiastical  authority, 
were  strictly  observed  as  a  matter  of  rule,  but  these  other  voluntary 
fasts  at  other  times  were  to  be  freely  broken  through  on  account  of 
the  arrival  of  visitors.  See  the  Conferences  II.  xxvi.,  XXI.  xiv., 
XXIV.  xxi.,  andcf.  Rufinus,  History  of  the  Monks  1 1,  vii.,  Palladius, 
the  Lausiac  History,  c.  lii.  So  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict  (c.  liii.) 
orders  that  on  the  arrival  of  visitors  the  Superior  is  to  sit  at  table 
with  them  and  break  his  fast,  unless  it  be  a  special  fast  day  which 
may  not  be  broken  ;  but  the  brethren  are  to  observe  the  regular  fasts. 

3  S.  Matt.  ix.  15.     The  Latin  has  sponsus  in  each  clause. 


home  at  once  to  his  cell,  and  together  with 
him  partook  of  refreshment  for  the  body  not 
so  much  by  reason  of  his  own  needs,  as  for 
the  sake  of  kindness  and  on  his  brother's 
account.  And  so  as  they  know  that  the  daily 
fast  is  broken  without  scruple  on  the  arrival 
of  brethren,  when  they  leave,  they  compen- 
sate for  the  refreshment  which  has  been  en- 
joyed on  their  account  by  a  greater  abstinence, 
and  sternly  make  up  for  the  reception  of  even 
a  very  little  food  by  a  severer  chastisement 
not  only  as  regards  bread,  but  also  by  lessen- 
ing their  usual  amount  of  sleep. 


CHAPTER   XXVIL 

What  the  two  Abbots  Pffisius  and  John  said  of  the  fruits  of 
their  zeal. 

When  the  aged  John,  who  was  superior  of 
a  large  monastery  and  of  a  quantity  of  breth- 
ren, had  come  to  visit  the  aged  Paesius,  who 
was  living  in  a  vast  desert,  and  had  been  asked 
of  him  as  of  a  very  old  friend,  what  he  had 
done  in  all  the  forty  years  in  which  he  had 
been  separated  from  him  and  had  scarcely 
ever  been  disturbed  in  his  solitude  by  the 
brethren :  "  Never,"  said  he,  "  has  the  sun  seen 
me  eating,"  "nor  me  angry,"  said  the  other.4 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

The  lesson  and  example  which  Abbot  John  when  dying  left  to 
his  disciples. 

When  the  same  old  man,  as  one  who  was 
readily  going  to  depart  to  his  own,  was  lying 
at  his  last  gasp,  and  the  brethren  were  stand- 
ing round,  they  implored  and  intreated  that 
he  would  leave  them,  as  a  sort  of  legacy,  some 
special  charge  by  which  they  could  attain  to 
the  height  of  perfection,  the  more  easily  from 
the  brevity  of  the  charge :  he  sighed  and  said, 
"  I  never  did  my  own  will,  nor  taught  any  one 
what  I  had  not  first  done  myself." 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

Of  Abbot  Machetes,  who  never  slept  during  the  spiritual  con- 
ferences, but  always  went  to  sleep  during  earthly  tales. 

We  knew  an  old  man,  Machetes  by  name, 
who  lived  at  a  distance  from  the  crowds  of  the 
brethren,   and  obtained  by  his  daily  prayers 

4  There  is  a  Pajsius  mentioned  by  Palladius  in  the  Lausiac 
History,  but  it  is  not  clear  whether  he  is  the  same  man  whom  Cas- 
sian  mentions.  John  is  a  different  person  from  the  one  already 
mentioned  in  Book  IV.  xxiii.  He  is  mentioned  again  below  in  xl., 
and  the  Nineteenth  Conference  is  assigned  to  him. 


244 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


this  grace  from  the  Lord,  that  as  often  as 
a  spiritual  conference  was  held,  whether  by 
day  or  by  night,  he  never  was  at  all  overcome 
by  sleep:  but  if  any  one  tried  to  introduce  a 
word  of  detraction,  or  idle  talk,  he  dropped 
off  to  sleep  at  once  as  if  the  poison  of  slander 
could  not  possibly  penetrate  to  pollute  his 
ears. 

CHAPTER   XXX. 

A  saying  of  the  same  old  man  about  not  judging  any  one. 

The  same  old  man,  when  he  was  teaching 
us  that  no  one  ought  to  judge  another,  re- 
marked that  there  were  three  points  on  which 
he  had  charged  and  rebuked  the  brethren,  viz. : 
because  some  allowed  their  uvula  to  be  cut 
off,  or  kept  a  cloak  in  their  cell,  or  blessed  oil 
and  gave  it  to  those  dwelling  in  the  world  who 
asked  for  it:  and  he  said  that  he  had  done  all 
these  things  himself.  For  having  contracted 
some  malady  of  the  uvula,  I  wasted  away,  said 
he,  for  so  long,  through  its  weakness,  that  at 
last  I  was  driven  by  stress  of  the  pain,  and  by 
the  persuasion  of  all  the  elders,  to  allow  it  to 
be  cut  off.  And  I  was  forced  too  by  reason  of 
this' illness,  to  keep  a  cloak.  And  I  was  also 
compelled  to  bless  oil  and  give  it  to  those  who 
prayed  for  it  —  a  thing  which  I  execrated 
above  everything,  since  that  I  thought  that  it 
proceeded  from  great  presumption  of  heart  — 
when  suddenly  many  who  were  living  in  the 
world  surrounded  me,  so  that  I  could  not 
possibly  escape  them  in  any  other  way,  had 
they  not  extorted  from  me  with  no  small  vio- 
lence, and  entreaties  that  I  would  lay  my  hand 
on  a  vessel  offered  by  them,  and  sign  it  with 
the  sign  of  the  cross:  and  so  believing  that 
they  had  secured  blessed  oil,  at  last  they  let 
me  go.  And  by  these  things  I  plainly  discov- 
ered that  a  monk  was  in  the  same  case  and 
entangled  in  the  same  faults  for  which  he  had 
ventured  to  judge  others.  Each  one  therefore 
ought  only  to  judge  himself,  and  to  be  on  the 
watch,  with  care  and  circumspection  in  all 
things  not  to  judge  the  life  and  conduct  of 
others  in  accordance  with  the  Apostle's  charge, 
"But  thou,  why  dost  thou  judge  thy  brother? 
to  his  own  master  he  standeth  or  falleth." 
And  this:  "Judge  not,  that  ye  be  not  judged. 
For  with  what  judgment  ye  judge,  ye  shall 
be  judged."  1  For  besides  the  reason  of  which 
we  have  spoken,  it  is  for  this  cause  also  danger- 
ous to  judge  concerning  others  because  in  those 
matters  in  which  we  are  offended  —  as  we  do 
not  know  the  need  or  the  reason  for  which 
they  are  really  acting   either  rightly   in  the 

1  Rom.  xiv.  10,  4;  S.  Matt.  vii.  1,  2. 


sight  of  God,  or  at  any  rate  in  a  pardonable 
manner  —  we  are  found  to  have  judged  them 
rashly  and  in  this  commit  no  light  sin,  by 
forming  an  opinion  of  our  brethren  different 
from  what  we  ought. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

The  same  old  man's  rebuke  when  he  saw  how  the  brethren 
went  to  sleep  during  the  spiritual  conferences,  and  woke  up 
when  some  idle  story  was  told. 

The  same  old  man  made  clear  by  this 
proof  that  it  was  the  devil  "who  encouraged 
idle  tales,  and  showed  himself  always  as  the 
enemy  of  spiritual  conferences.  For  when 
he  was  discoursing  to  some  of  the  brethren  on 
necessary  matters  and  spiritual  things,  and 
saw  that  they  were  weighed  down  with  a  sound 
slumber,  and  could  not  drive  away  the  weight 
of  sleep  from  their  eyes,  he  suddenly  intro- 
duced an  idle  tale.  And  when  he  saw  that 
at  once  they  woke  up,  delighted  with  it,  and 
pricked  up  their  ears,  he  groaned  and  said, 
"Up  till  now  we  were  speaking  of  celestial 
things  and  all  your  eyes  were  *  overpowered 
with  a  sound  slumber;  but  as  soon  as  an  idle 
tale  was  introduced,  we  all  woke  up  and  shook 
off  the  drowsiness  of  sleep  which  had  over- 
come us.  And  from  this  therefore  consider 
who  is  the  enemy  of  that  spiritual  conference, 
and  who  has  shown  himself  the  suggester  of 
that  useless  and  carnal  talk.  For  it  is  most 
evidently  shown  that  it  is  he  who,  rejoicing  in 
evil,  never  ceases  to  encourage  the  latter  and 
to  oppose  the  former." 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

Of  the  letters  which  were  burnt  without  being  read. 

Nor  do  I  think  it  less  needful  to  relate  this 
act  of  a  brother  who  was  intent  on  purity  of 
heart,  and  extremely  anxious  with  regard  to 
the  contemplation  of  things  divine.  When 
after  an  interval  of  fifteen  years  a  large  number 
of  letters  had  been  brought  to  him  from  his 
father  and  mother  and  many  friends  in  the 
province  of  Pontus,  he  received  the  huge  packet 
of  letters,  and  turning  over  the  matter  in  his 
own  mind  for  some  time,  "What  thoughts," 
said  he,  "will  the  reading  of  these  suggest  to 
me,  which  will  incite  me  either  to  senseless 
joy  or  to  useless  sadness !  for  how  many  days 
will  they  draw  off  the  attention  of  my  heart 
from  the  contemplation  I  have  set  before  me, 
by  the  recollection  of  those  who  wrote  them! 
How  long  will  it  take  for  the  disturbance  of 
mind  thus  created  to  be  calmed,  and  what  an 


BOOK   V. 


245 


effort  will  it  cost  for  that  former  state  of 
peacefulness  to  be  restored,  if  the  mind  is 
once  moved  by  the  sympathy  of  the  letters, 
and  by  recalling  the  words  and  looks  of  those 
whom  it  has  left  for  so  long  begins  once  more 
in  thought  and  spirit  to  revisit  them,  to  dwell 
among  them  and  to  be  with  them.  And  it  will 
be  of  no  use  to  have  forsaken  them  in  the  body, 
if  one  begins  to  look  on  them  with  the  heart, 
and  readmits  and  revives  that  memory  which 
on  renouncing  this  world  every  one  gave  up, 
as  if  he  were  dead.  Turning  this  over  in  his 
mind,  he  determined  not  only  not  to  read  a 
single  letter,  but  not  even  to  open  the  packet, 
for  fear  lest,  at  the  sight  of  the  names  of  the 
writers,  or  on  recalling  their  appearance,  the 
purpose  of  his  spirit  might  give  way.  And  so 
he  threw  it  into  the  fire  to  be  burnt,  all  tied 
up  just  as  he  had  received  it,  crying,  "Away, 
O  ye  thoughts  of  my  home,  be  ye  burnt  up, 
and  try  no  further  to  recall  me  to  those  things 
from  which  I  have  fled." 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

Of  the  solution  of  a  question  which  Abbot  Theodore  obtained 
by  prayer. 

We  knew  also  Abbot  Theodore,1  a  man 
gifted  with  the  utmost  holiness  and  with  per- 
fect knowledge  not  only  in  practical  life,  but 
also  in  understanding  the  Scriptures,  which 
he  had  not  acquired  so  much  by  study  and 
reading,  or  worldly  education,  as  by  purity  of 
heart  alone  :  since  he  could  with  difficulty  un- 
derstand and  speak  but  a  very  few  words  of 
the  Greek  language.  This  man  when  he  was 
seeking  an  explanation  of  some  most  diffi- 
cult question,  continued  without  ceasing  for 
seven  days  and  nights  in  prayer  until  he  dis- 
covered by  a  revelation  from  the  Lord  the 
solution  of  the  question  propounded. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

Of  the  saying  of  the  same  old  man,  through  which  he  taught 
by  what  efforts  a  monk  can  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the 
Scriptures. 

This  man  therefore,  when  some  of  the 
brethren  were  wondering  at  the  splendid  light 
of  his  knowledge  and  were  asking  of  him  some 
meanings  of  Scripture,  said  that  a  monk  who 
wanted  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  Scrip- 
tures  ought    not  to  spend  his  labour  on  the 

1  Nothing  further  is  known  for  certain  of  this  Theodore.  He 
may  be  the  author  of  the  Vlth  of  the  Conferences  ;  but  must  be 
carefully  distinguished  from  his  more  celebrated  namesake,  the 
friend  of  Pachomius,  and  third  Abbot  of  Taberma,  who  died  before 
Cassian's  visit  to  Egypt. 


works  of  commentators,  but  rather  to  keep  all 
the  efforts  of  his  mind  and  intentions  of  his 
heart  set  on  purifying  himself  from  carnal 
vices:  for  when  these  are  driven  out,  at  once 
the  eyes  of  the  heart,  as  if  the  veil  of  the  pas- 
sions were  removed,  will  begin  as  it  were 
naturally  to  gaze  on  the  mysteries  2  of  Scrip- 
ture: since  they  were  not  declared  to  us  by  the 
grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  order  that  they 
should  remain  unknown  and  obscure ;  but  they 
are  rendered  obscure  by  our  fault,  as  the  veil 
of  our  sins  covers  the  eyes  of  the  heart,  and 
when  these  are  restored  to  their  natural  state 
of  health,  the  mere  reading  of  Holy  Scripture 
is  by  itself  amply  sufficient  for  beholding 
the  true  knowledge,  nor  do  they  need  the  aid 
of  commentators,  just  as  these  eyes  of  flesh 
need  no  man's  teaching  how  to  see,  provided 
that  they  are  free  from  dimness  or  the  dark- 
ness of  blindness.  For  this  reason  there  have 
arisen  so  great  differences  and  mistakes  among 
commentators  because  most  of  them,  paying 
no  sort  of  attention  towards  purifying  the 
mind,  rush  into  the  work  of  interpreting  the 
Scriptures,  and  in  proportion  to  the  density 
or  impurity  of  their  heart  form  opinions  that 
are  at  variance  with  and  contrary  to  each 
other's  and  to  the  faith,  and  so  are  unable  to 
take  in  the  light  of  truth. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

A  rebuke  of  the  same  old  man,  when  he  had  come  to  my  cell 
in  the  middle  of  the  night. 

The  same  Theodore  came  unexpectedly  to 
my  cell  in  the  dead  of  night,  with  paternal 
inquisitiveness  seeking  what  I — an  unformed 
anchorite  as  I  was  —  might  be  doing  by  my- 
self ;  and  when  he  had  found  me  there  already, 
as  I  had  finished  my  vesper  office,  beginning 
to  refresh  my  wearied  body,  and  lying  down 
on  a  mat,  he  sighed  from  the  bottom  of  his 
heart,  and  calling  me  byname,  said,  "Plow 
many,  O  John,  are  at  this  hour  communing 
with  God,  and  embracing  Him,  and  detaining 
Him  with  them,  while  you  are  deprived  of  so 
great  light,  enfeebled  as  you  are  with  lazy- 
sleep  !  " 

And  since  the  virtues  of  the  fathers  and  the 
grace  given  to  them  have  tempted  us  to  turn 
aside  to  a  story  like  this,  I  think  it  well  to 
record  in  this  volume  a  noteworthy  deed  of 
charity,  which  we  experienced  from  the  kind- 
ness of  that  most  excellent  man  Archebius, 
that  the  purity  of  continence  grafted  on  to  a 
work  of  charity  may  more  readily  shine  forth, 
being    embellished    with  a  pleasing   variety. 


2  Sacramento.. 


246 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


For  the  duty  of  fasting  is  then  rendered  accept- 
able to  God,  when  it  is  made  perfect  by  the 
fruits  of  charity. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

A  description  of  the  desert  in  Diolcos,  where  the  anchorites  live. 

And  so  when  we  had  come,  while  still  begin- 
ners, from  the  monasteries  of  Palestine,  to  a 
city  of  Egypt  called  Diolcos, *  and  were  contem- 
plating a  large  number  of  monks  bound  by  the 
discipline  of  the  Ccenobium,  and  trained  in 
that  excellent  system  of  monasteries,  which  is 
also  the  earliest,  we  were  also  eager  to  see 
with  all  wisdom  of  heart  another  system  as 
well  which  is  still  better,  viz.  :  that  of  the  an- 
chorites, as  we  were  incited  thereto  by  the 
praises  of  it  by  everybody.  For  these  men, 
having  first  lived  for  a  very  long  time  in  Cceno- 
bia,  and  having  diligently  learnt  all  the  rules 
of  patience  and  discretion,  and  acquired  the 
virtues  of  humility  and  renunciation,  and  hav- 
ing perfectly  overcome  all  their  faults,  in  order 
to  engage  in  most  fearful  conflicts  with  devils, 
penetrate  the  deepest  recesses  of  the  desert. 
Finding  then  that  men  of  this  sort  were  living 
near  the  river  Nile  in  a  place  which  is  sur- 
rounded on  one  side  by  the  same  river,  on  the 
other  by  the  expanse  of  the  sea,  and  forms  an 
island,  habitable  by  none  but  monks  seeking 
such  recesses,  since  the  saltness  of  the  soil  and 
dryness  of  the  sand  make  it  unfit  for  any  culti- 
vation —  to  these  men,  I  say,  we  eagerly  has- 
tened, and  were  beyond  measure  astonished  at 
their  labours  which  they  endure  in  the  contem- 
plation of  the  virtues  and  their  love  of  solitude. 
For  they  are  hampered  by  such  a  scarcity  even 
of  water  that  the  care  and  exactness  with  which 
they  portion  it  out  is  such  as  no  miser  would 
bestow  in  preserving  and  hoarding  the  most 
precious  kind  of  wine.  For  they  carry  it  three 
miles  or  even  further  from  the  bed  of  the 
above-mentioned  river,  for  all  necessary  pur- 
poses; and  the  distance,  great  as  it  is,  with 
sandy  mountains  in  between,  is  doubled  by 
the  very  great  difficulty  of  the  task. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

Of  the  cells  which  Abbot  Archebius  gave  up  to  us  with  their 
furniture. 

Having  then  seen  this,  as  we  were  inflamed 
with  the  desire  of  imitating  them,  the  afore- 
said Archebius,  the  most  famous  among  them 

1  Diolcos  is  mentioned  again  in  the  Conferences  XVIII.  i.  Sozo- 
men  (VI.  xxix.)  speaks  of  two  celebrated  monasteries  near  there 
presided  over  by  Piamun  and  John. 


for  the  grace  of  kindness,  drew  us  into  his  cell, 
and  having  discovered  our  desire,  pretended 
that  he  wanted  to  leave  the  place,  and  to  offer 
his  cell  to  us,  as  if  he  were  going  away,  de- 
claring that  he  would  have  done  it,  even  if 
we  had  not  come.  And  we,  inflamed  with  the 
desire  of  remaining  there,  and  putting  unhesi- 
tating faith  in  the  assertions  of  so  great  a  man, 
willingly  agreed  to  this,  and  took  over  his  cell 
with  all  its  furniture  and  belongings.  And  so 
having  succeeded  in  his  pious  fraud,  he  left 
the  place  for  a  few  days  in  which  to  procure 
the  means  for  constructing  a  cell,  and  after 
this  returned,  and  with  the  utmost  labour  built 
another  cell  for  himself.  And  after  some  little 
time,  when  some  other  brethren  came  inflamed 
with  the  same  desire  to  stay  there,  he  deceived 
them  by  a  similar  charitable  falsehood,  and 
gave  this  one  up  with  everything  pertaining  to 
it.  But  he,  unweariedly  persevering  in  his  act 
of  charity,  built  for  himself  a  third  cell  to 
dwell  in.2 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

The  same  Archebius  paid  a  debt  of  his  mother's  by  the  labour 
of  his  own  hands. 

It  seems  to  me  worth  while  to  hand  down 
another  charitable  act  of  the  same  man,  that 
the  monks  of  our  land  may  be  taught  by  the 
example  of  one  and  the  same  man  to  maintain 
not  only  a  rigorous  continence,  but  also  the 
most  unfeigned  affection  of  love.  For  he, 
sprung  from  no  ignoble  family,  while  yet  a 
child,  scorning  the  love  of  this  world  and  of 
his  kinsfolk,  fled  to  the  monastery  which  is 
nearly  four  miles  distant  from  the  aforemen- 
tioned town,  where  he  so  passed  all  his  life, 
that  never  once  throughout  the  whole  of  fifty 
years  did  he  enter  or  see  the  village  from  which 
he  had  come,  nor  even  look  upon  the  face  of 
any  woman,  not  even  his  own  mother.  In  the 
mean  while  his  father  was  overtaken  by  death, 
and  left  a  debt  of  a  hundred  solidi.  And 
though  he  himself  was  entirely  free  from  all 
annoyances,  since  he  had  been  disinherited 
of  all  his  father's  property,  yet  he  found  that 
his  mother  was  excessively  annoyed  by  the 
creditors.  Then  he  through  consideration  of 
duty  somewhat  moderated  that  gospel  severity 
through  which  formerly,  while  his  parents 
were  prosperous,  he  did  not  recognize  that  he 
possessed  a  father  or  mother  on  earth;  and 
acknowledged  that  he  had  a  mother,  and  hast- 
ened to  relieve  her  in  her  distress,  without 
relaxing  anything  of  the  austerity  he  had  set 

1  Somewhat  similar  stories  are  told  of  others  by  Palladius, 
(Lausiac  History,  cc.ii.  i,lxx.);  and  Rufinus,  History  of  the  Monks, 
I.  xxiii. 


BOOK   V. 


247 


himself.  For  remaining  within  the  cloister  of 
the  monastery  he  asked  that  the  task  of  his 
usual  work  might  be  trebled.  And  there  for 
a  whole  year  toiling  night  and  day  alike  he 
paid  to  the  creditors  the  due  measure  of  the 
debt  secured  by  his  toil  and  labour,  and 
relieved  his  mother  from  all  annoyance  and 
anxiety;  ridding  her  of  the  burden  of  the  debt 
in  such  a  way  as  not  to  suffer  aught  of  the 
severity  he  had  set  himself  to  be  diminished, 
on  plea  of  duteous  necessity.  Thus  did  he 
preserve  his  wonted  austerities,  without  ever 
denying  to  his  mother's  heart  the  work  which 
duty  demanded,  as,  though  he  had  formerly 
disregarded  her  for  the  love  of  Christ,  he  now 
acknowledged  her  again  out  of  consideration 
of  duty. 

CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

Of  the  device  of  a  certain  old  man  by  which  some  work  was 
found  for  Abbot  Simeon  when  he  had  nothing;  to  do. 


When  a  brother  who  was  very  dear  to  us, 
Simeon  by  name,  a  man  utterly  ignorant  of 
Greek,  had  come  from  the  region  of  Italy,  one 
of  the  elders,  anxious  to  show  to  him,  as  he 
was  a  stranger,  a  work  of  charity,  with  some 
pretence  of  the  benefit  being  mutual,  asked  him 
why  he  sat  doing  nothing  in  his  cell,  guessing 
from  this  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  stay 
much  longer  in  it  both  because  of  the  roving 
thoughts  which  idleness  produces  and  because 
of  his  want  of  the  necessities  of  life;  well 
knowing  that  no  one  can  endure  the  assaults 
made  in  solitude,  but  one  who  is  contented  to 
procure  food  for  himself  by  the  labour  of  his 
hands.  And  when  the  other  replied  that  he 
could  not  do  or  manage  any  of  the  things 
which  were  usually  done  by  the  brethren  there, 
except  write  a  good  hand,  if  any  one  in  Egypt 
wanted  a  Latin  book  for  his  use,  then  he  at 
length  seized  the  opportunity  to  secure  the 
long  wished  for  work  of  charity,  under  colour 
of  its  being  a  mutual  benefit;  and  said,  "From 
God  this  opportunity  comes,  for  I  was  just 
looking  for  some  one  to  write  out  for  me  the 
Epistles1  in  Latin;  for  I  have  a  brother  who 
is  bound  in  the  chains  of  military  service,  and 
is  a  good  Latin  scholar,  to  whom  I  want  to 
send  something  from  Scripture  for  him  to  read 
for  his  edification."  And  so  when  Simeon 
gratefully  took  this  as  an  opportunity  offered 
to  him  by  God,  the  old  man  also  gladly  seized 
the  pretext,  under  colour  of  which  he  could 
freely  carry  out  his  work  of  charity,  and  at 
once  not  only  brought  him  as  a  matter  of  busi- 
ness everything  he  could  want  for  a  whole 


1  Apostolus. 


year,  but  also  conveyed  to  him  parchment  and 
everything  requisite  for  writing,  and  received 
afterwards  the  manuscript,  which  was  not  of 
the  slightest  use  (since  in  those  parts  they 
were  all  utterly  ignorant  of  this  language), 
and  did  no  good  to  anybody  except  that  which 
resulted  from  this  device  and  large  outlay,  as 
the  one,  without  shame  or  confusion,  procured 
his  necessary  food  and  sustenance  by  the  re- 
ward of  his  work  and  labour,  and  the  other  car- 
ried out  his  kindness  and  bounty  as  it  were  by 
the  compulsion  of  a  debt:  securing  for  himself 
a  more  abundant  reward  proportioned  to  the 
zeal  with  which  he  procured  for  his  foreign 
brother  not  only  his  necessary  food,  but  als 
materials  for  writing,  and  an  opportunity  of 
work. 


CHAPTER    XL. 

Of  the  boys  who  when  bringing  to  a  sick  man  some  figs,  died 
in  the  desert  from  hunger,  without  having  tasted  them. 


But  since  in  the  section  in  which  we  pro- 
posed to  say  something  about  the  strictness  of 
fasting  and  abstinence,  kindly  acts  and  deeds 
of  charity  seem  to  have  been  intermingled, 
again  returning  to  our  design  we  will  insert 
in  this  little  book  a  noteworthy  deed  of  some 
who  were  boys  in  years  though  not  in  their 
feelings.  For  when,  to  their  great  surprise, 
some  one  had  brought  to  Abbot  John,  the  stew- 
ard in  the  desert  of  Scete,  some  figs  from  Libya 
Mareotis,2  as  being  a  thing  never  before  seen 
in  those  districts, —  (John)  who  had  the  man- 
agement of  the  church  in  the  days  of  the 
blessed  Presbyter  Paphnutius,3  by  whom  it 
had  been  intrusted  to  him,  at  once  sent  them 
by  the  hands  of  two  lads  to  an  old  man  who 
was  laid  up  in  ill  health  in  the  further  parts 
of  the  desert,  and  who  lived  about  eighteen 
miles  from  the  church.  And  when  they  had 
I  received  the  fruit,  and  set  off  for  the  cell  of 
the  above-mentioned  old  man,  they  lost  the 
I  right  path  altogether  —  a  thing  which  there 
easily  happens  even  to  elders  —  as  a  thick  fog 
suddenly  came  on.  And  when  all  day  and 
night  they  had  wandered  about  the  trackless 
waste  of  the  desert,  and  could  not  possibly  find 
the  sick  man's  cell,  worn  out  at  last  both  by 
weariness  from  their  journey,  and  from  hunger 
and  thirst,  they  bent  their  knees  and  gave  up 
their  souls  to  God  in  the  very  act  of  prayer. 
And   afterwards,   when  they  had   been   for  a 


2  The  Mareotic  nome  is  the  district  round  Lake  Mareotis,  a  lake 
in  the  north  of  the  delta  bordering  upon  the  Libyan  desert  (the 
modern  Birket  el  Marioiit),  and  running  parallel  to  the  Mediter- 
ranean, from  which  it  is  separated  by  a  long  and  narrow  ridge  of 
sand. 

3  On  Paphnutius  see  the  note  on  the  Conference  III.  i. 


248 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


long  while  sought  for  by  the  marks  of  their 
footsteps  which  in  those  sanely  regions  are 
impressed  as  if  on  snow,  until  a  thin  coating 
of  sand  blown  about  even  by  a  slight  breeze 
covers  them  up  again,  it  was  found  that  they 
had  preserved  the  figs  untouched,  just  as  they 
had  received  them;  choosing  rather  to  give  up 
their  lives,  than  their  fidelity  to  their  charge, 
and  to  lose  their  life  on  earth  than  to  violate 
the  commands  of  their  senior. 


CHAPTER   XLI. 

The  saying  of  Abbot  Macarius  of  the  behaviour  of  a  monk  as 
one  who  was  to  live  for  a  long  while,  and  as  one  who  was 
daily  at  the  point  of  death. 

There  is  still  one  valuable  charge  of  the 
blessed  Macarius  to  be  brought  forward  by  us, 
so  that  a  saying  of  so  great  a  man  may  close 


this  book  of  fasts  and  abstinence.  He  said 
then  that  a  monk  ought  to  bestow  attention  on 
his  fasts,  just  as  if  he  were  going  to  remain  in 
the  flesh  for  a  hundred  years ;  and  to  curb  the 
motions  of  the  soul,  and  to  forget  injuries,  and 
to  loathe  sadness,  and  despise  sorrows  and 
losses,  as  if  he  were  daily  at  the  point  of 
death.  For  in  the  former  case  discretion  is 
useful  and  proper  as  it  causes  a  monk  always 
to  walk  with  well-balanced  care,  and  does  not 
suffer  him  by  reason  of  a  weakened  body  to 
fall  from  the  heights  over  most  dangerous  pre- 
cipices: in  the  other  high-mindedness  is  most 
valuable  as  it  will  enable  him  not  only  to  de- 
spise the  seeming  prosperity  of  this  present 
world,  but  also  not  to  be  crushed  by  adversity 
and  sorrow,  and  to  despise  them  as  small  and 
paltry  matters,  since  he  has  the  gaze  of  his 
mind  continually  fixed  there,  whither  daily  at 
each  moment  he  believes  that  he  is  soon  to  be 
summoned.1 


BOOK  VI. 

ON   THE   SPIRIT  OF  FORNICATION. 
We  have  thought  best  to  omit  altogether  the  translation  of  this  book. 


BOOK   VII. 


OF  THE   SPIRIT  OF  COVETOUSNESS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

How  our  warfare  with  covetousness  is  a  foreign  one,  and  how 
this  fault  is  not  a  natural  one  in  man,  as  the  other  faults  are. 

Our  third-  conflict  is  against  covetousness 
which  we  can  describe  as  the  love  of  money; 
a  foreign  warfare,  and  one  outside  of  our 
nature,  and  in  the  case  of  a  monk  originat- 
ing only  from  the  state  of  a  corrupt  and  slug- 
gish mind,  and  often  from  the  beginning  of 
his  renunciation  being  unsatisfactory,  and  his 
love  towards  God  being  lukewarm  at  its 
foundation.  For  the  rest  of  the  incitements 
to  sin  planted  in  human  nature  seem  to  have 
their  commencement  as  it  were  congenital  with 
us,  and  somehow  being  deeply  rooted  in  our 
flesh,  and  almost  coeval  with  our  birth,  anti- 
cipate our   powers   of    discerning    good    and 


evil,  and  although  in  very  early  days  they  at- 
tack a  man,  yet  they  are  overcome  with  a  long 
struggle. 

CHAPTER   II. 

How  dangerous  is  the  disease  of  covetousness. 

But  this  disease  coming  upon  us  at  a  later 
period,   and  approaching  the  soul  from  with- 


1  Socrates  (H.E.  Book  IV.  c.  xxiii.)  gives  an  account  of  two 
monks  of  the  name  of  Macarius,  one  of  whom  was  from  Upper 
Egypt,  and  the  other  from  Alexandria.  Compare  also  Rufinus, 
History  of  the  Monks,  cc.  xxviii.,  xxix.  It  is  not  certain  to  which 
of  them  Cassian's  stories  refer,  here  and  in  the  Conferences  V.  xii., 
VII.  xxvii.,  XXIV.  xiii.  The  story  told  in  Conference  XV.  iii. 
refers  to  the  "  Egyptian"  Macarius  (cf.  Sozomen  H.  E.  III.  xiy., 
where  the  miracle  is  expressly  assigned  to  him)  :  that  in  XIV.  iv. 
evidently  belongs  to  the  "Alexandrian"  Macarius.  The  two  are 
mentioned  together  in  Conference  XIX.  ix.,  and  by  various  other 
I  writers. 


BOOK   VII. 


249 


out,  as  it  can  be  the  more  easily  guarded 
against  and  resisted,  so,  if  it  is  disregarded 
and  once  allowed  to  gain  an  entrance  into  the 
heart,  is  the  more  dangerous  to  everyone,  and 
with  the  greater  difficulty  expelled.  For  it 
becomes  ''a  root  of  all  evils,"  x  and  gives  rise 
to  a  multiplicity  of  incitements  to  sin. 


CHAPTER   III. 

What  is  the  usefulness  of  those  vices  which  are  natural  to  us. 

For  example,  do  not  we  see  those  natural 
impulses  of  the  flesh  not  only  in  boys  in  whom 
innocence  still  anticipates  the  discernment  of 
good  and  evil,  but  even  in  little  children  and 
infants,  who  although  they  have  not  even  the 
slightest  approach  to  lust  within  them,  yet 
show  that  the  impulses  of  the  flesh  exist  in 
them  and  are  naturally  excited  ?  Do  not  we 
also  see  that  the  deadly  pricks  of  anger  already 
exist  in  full  vigour  likewise  in  little  children? 
and  before  they  have  learnt  the  virtue  of 
patience,  we  see  that  they  are  disturbed  by 
wrongs,  and  feel  affronts  offered  to  them  even 
by  way  of  a  joke;  and  sometimes,  although 
strength  is  lacking  to  them,  the  desire  to 
avenge  themselves  is  not  wanting,  when  anger 
excites  them.  Nor  do  I  say  this  to  lay  the 
blame  on  their  natural  state,  but  to  point  out 
that  of  these  impulses  which  proceed  from  us, 
some  are  implanted  in  us  for  a  useful  purpose, 
while  some  are  introduced  from  without, 
through  the  fault  of  carelessness  and  the  desire 
of  an  evil  will.  For  these  carnal  impulses, 
of  which  we  spoke  above,  were  with  a  useful 
purpose  implanted  in  our  bodies  by  the  provi- 
dence of  the  Creator,  viz.  :  for  perpetuating 
the  race,  and  raising  up  children  for  posterity : 
and  not  for  committing  adulteries  and  de- 
baucheries, which  the  authority  of  the  law 
also  condemns.  The  pricks  of  anger  too,  do 
we  not  see  that  they  have  been  most  wisely 
given  to  us,  that  being  enraged  at  our  sins 
and  mistakes,  we  may  apply  ourselves  the 
rather  to  virtues  and  spiritual  exercises,  show- 
ing forth  all  love  towards  God,  and  patience 
towards  our  brethren?  We  know  too  how 
great  is  the  use  of  sorrow,  which  is  reckoned 
among  the  other  vices,  when  it  is  turned  to  an 
opposite  use.  For  on  the  one  hand,  when  it 
is  in  accordance  with  the  fear  of  God  it  is 
most  needful,  and  on  the  other,  when  it  is  in 
accordance  with  the  world,  most  pernicious; 
as  the  Apostle  teaches  us  when  he  says  that 
"the  sorrow  which  is  according  to  God  work- 
eth  repentance  that  is  steadfast  unto  salvation, 
but  the  sorrow  of  the  world  worketh  death."  2 


1  1  Tim.  vi.  10. 


2  Cor.  vii.  10. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

That  we  can   say  that  there  exist  in  us  some  natural  faults, 
without  wronging  the  Creator. 

If  then  we  say  that  these  impulses  were  im- 
planted in  us  by  the  Creator,  He  will  not  on 
that  account  seem  blameworthy,  if  we  choose 
wrongly  to  abuse  them,  and  to  pervert  them 
to  harmful  purposes,  and  are  ready  to  be 
made  sorry  by  means  of  the  useless  Cains  of 
this  world,  and  not  by  means  of  showing  peni- 
tence and  the  correction  of  our  faults :  or  at 
least  if  we  are  angry  not  with  ourselves  (which 
would  be  profitable)  but  with  our  brethren  in 
defiance  of  God's  command.  For  in  the  case 
of  iron,  which  is  given  us  for  good  and  useful 
purposes,  if  any  one  should  pervert  it  for  mur- 
dering the  innocent,  one  would  not  therefore 
blame  the  maker  of  the  metal  because  man  had 
used  to  injure  others  that  which  he  had  pro- 
vided for  good  and  useful  purposes  of  living 
happily. 


CHAPTER   V. 

Of  the  faults  which  are  contracted  through  our  own  fault,  with- 
out natural  impulses. 

But  we  affirm  that  some  faults  grow  up 
without  any  natural  occasion  giving  birth  to 
them,  but  simply  from  the  free  choice  of  a 
corrupt  and  evil  will,  as  envy  and  this  very 
sin  of  covetousness ;  which  are  caught  (so  to 
speak)  from  without,  having  no  origination  in 
us  from  natural  instincts.  But  these,  in  pro- 
portion as  they  are  easily  guarded  against 
and  readily  avoided,  just  so  do  they  make 
wretched  the  mind  that  they  have  got  hold  of 
and  seized,  and  hardly  do  they  suffer  it  to  get 
at  the  remedies  which  would  cure  it:  either  be- 
cause these  who  are  wounded  by  persons  whom 
they  might  either  have  ignored,  or  avoided, 
or  easily  overcome,  do  not  deserve  to  be  healed 
by  a  speedy  cure,  or  else  because,  having  laid 
the  foundations  badly,  they  are  unworthy  to 
raise  an  edifice  of  virtue  and  reach  the  summit 
of  perfection. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

How  difficult  the  evil  of  covetousness  is  to  drive  away  when 
once  it  has  been  admitted. 

Wherefore  let  not  this  evil  seem  of  no 
account  or  unimportant  to  anybody :  for  as  it 
can  easily  be  avoided,  so  if  it  has  once  got 
hold  of  any  one,  it  scarcely  suffers  him  to  get 
at  the   remedies  for  curing:  it.     For  it  is  a 


2^0 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


regular  nest  of  sins,  and  a  "root  of  all  kinds 
of  evil,"  and  becomes  a  hopeless  incitement 
to  wickedness,  as  the  Apostle  says,  "  Covet- 
ousness,"  i.e.  the  love  of  money,  "is  a  root  of 
all  kinds  of  evil."  1 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Of  the  source  from  which  covetousness  springs,  and  of  the  evils 
of  which  it  is  itself  the  mother. 

When  then  this  vice  has  got  hold  of  the 
slack  and  lukewarm  soul  of  some  monk,  it 
begins  by  tempting  him  in  regard  of  a  small 
sum  of  money,  giving  him  excellent  and 
almost  reasonable  excuses  why  he  ought  to 
retain  some  money  for  himself.  For  he  com- 
plains that  what  is  provided  in  the  monastery 
is  not  sufficient,  and  can  scarcely  be  endured 
by  a  sound  and  sturdy  body.  What  is  he  to 
do  if  ill  health  comes  on,  and  he  has  no  special 
store  of  his  own  to  support  him  in  his  weak- 
ness ?  He  says  that  the  allowance  of  the  mon- 
astery is  but  meagre,  and  that  there  is  the 
greatest  carelessness  about  the  sick:  and  if 
he  has  not  something  of  his  own  so  that  he 
can  look  after  the  wants  of  his  body,  he  will 
perish  miserably.  The  dress  which  is  allowed 
him  is  insufficient,  unless  he  has  provided 
something  with  which  to  procure  another. 
Lastly,  he  says  that  he  cannot  possibly  remain 
for  long  in  the  same  place  and  monastery, 
and  that  unless  he  has  secured  the  money  for 
his  journey,  and  the  cost  of  his  removal  over 
the  sea,  he  cannot  move  when  he  wants  to, 
and,  detained  by  the  compulsion  of  want,  will 
henceforth  drag  out  a  wretched  and  wearisome 
existence  without  making  the  slightest  ad- 
vance :  that  he  cannot  without  indignity  be 
supported  by  another's  substance,  as  a  pauper 
and  one  in  want.  And  so  when  he  has  bam- 
boozled himself  with  such  thoughts  as  these, 
he  racks  his  brains  to  think  how  he  can  acquire 
at  least  one  penny.  Then  he  anxiously 
searches  for  some  special  work  which  he  can 
do  without  the  Abbot  knowing  anything  about 
it.  And  selling  it  secretly,  and  so  securing 
the  coveted  coin,  he  torments  himself  worse 
and  worse  in  thinking  how  he  can  double  it: 
puzzled  as  to  where  to  deposit  it,  or  to  whom 
to  intrust  it.  Then  he  is  oppressed  with  a 
still  weightier  care  as  to  what  to  buy  with  it, 
or  by  what  transaction  he  can  double  it.  And 
when  this  has  turned  out  as  he  wished,  a  still 
more  greedy  craving  for  gold  springs  up,  and  is 
more  and  more  keenly  excited,  as  his  store  of 
money  grows  larger  and  larger.     For  with  the 


1  i  Tim.  vi.  10. 


increase  of  wealth  the  mania  of  covetousness 
increases.  Then  next  he  has  forebodings  of  a 
long  life,  and  an  enfeebled  old  age,  and  in- 
firmities of  all  sorts,  and  long  drawn  out, 
which  will  be  insupportable  in  old  age,  unless 
a  large  store  of  money  has  been  laid  by  in 
youth.  And  so  the  wretched  soul  is  agitated, 
and  held  fast,  as  it  were,  in  a  serpent's  toils, 
while  it  endeavours  to  add  to  that  heap  which 
it  has  unlawfully  secured,  by  still  more  un- 
lawful care,  and  itself  gives  birth  to  plagues 
which  inflame  it  more  sorely,  and  being  en- 
tirely absorbed  in  the  quest  of  gain,  pays  atten- 
tion to  nothing  but  how  to  get  money  with 
which  to  fly'2  as  quickly  as  possible  from  the 
discipline  of  the  monastery,  never  keeping 
faith  where  there  is  a  gleam  of  hope  of  money 
to  be  got.  For  this  it  shrinks  not  from  the 
crime  of  lying,  perjury,  and  theft,  of  breaking 
a  promise,  of  giving  way  to  injurious  bursts 
of  passion.  If  the  man  has  dropped  away  at 
all  from  the  hope  of  gain,  he  has  no  scruples 
about  transgressing  the  bounds  of  humility, 
and  through  it  all  gold  and  the  love  of  gain 
become  to  him  his  god,  as  the  belly  does  to 
others.  Wherefore  the  blessed  Apostle,  look- 
ing out  on  the  deadly  poison  of  this  pest,  not 
only  says  that  it  is  a  root  of  all  kinds  of  evil, 
but  also  calls  it  the  worship  of  idols,  saying 
"And  covetousness  (which  in  Greek  is  called 
cpdugyvfjlu)  which  is  the  worship  of  idols."3 
You  see  then  to  what  a  downfall  this  madness 
step  by  step  leads,  so  that  by  the  voice  of  the 
Apostle  it  is  actually  declared  to  be  the  wor- 
ship of  idols  and  false  gods,  because  passing 
over  the  image  and  likeness  of  God  (which 
one  who  serves  God  with  devotion  ought  to  pre- 
serve undefiled  in  himself),  it  chooses  to  love 
and  care  for  images  stamped  on  gold  instead 
of  God. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

How  covetousness  is  a  hindrance  to  all  virtues. 

With  such  strides  then  in  a  downward  direc- 
tion he  goes  from  bad  to  worse,  and  at  last 
cares  not  to  retain  I  will  not  say  the  virtue  but 
even  the  shadow  of  humility,  charity,  and  obe- 
dience; and  is  displeased  with  everything,  and 
murmurs  and  groans  over  every  work;  and  now 
having  cast  off  all  reverence,  like  a  bad-tem- 
pered horse,  dashes  off  headlong  and  unbridled  : 
and  discontented  with  his  daily  food  and 
usual  clothing,  announces  that  he  will  not  put 


2  The  same  danger  is  strongly  spoken  of  by  S.  Basil  in  the 
"Monastic  Constitutions  "  c.  xxxiv.,  a  passage  which  should  be 
compared  with  the  one  above. 

3  Col.  ill.  5. 


BOOK   VII. 


251 


up  with  it  any  longer.  He  declares  that  God 
is  not  only  there,  and  that  his  salvation  is  not 
confined  to  that  place,  where,  if  he  does  not 
take  himself  off  pretty  quickly  from  it,  he 
deeply  laments  that  he  will  soon  die. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

How  a  monk  who  has  money  cannot  stay  in  the  monastery. 

And  so  having  money  to  provide  for  his 
wanderings,  with  the  assistance  of  which  he 
has  fitted  himself  as  it  were  with  wings,  and 
now  being  quite  ready  for  his  move,  he 
answers  impertinently  to  all  commands,  and 
behaves  himself  like  a  stranger  and  a  visitor, 
and  whatever  he  sees  needing  improvement, 
he  despises  and  treats  with  contempt.  And 
though  he  has  a  supply  of  money  secretly 
hidden,  yet  he  complains  that  he  has  neither 
shoes  nor  clothes,  and  is  indignant  that  they 
are  given  out  to  him  so  slowly.  And  if  it 
happens  that  through  the  management  of  the 
superior  some  of  these  are  given  first  to  one 
who  is  known  to  have  nothing  whatever,  he  is 
still  more  inflamed  with  burning  rage,  and 
thinks  that  he  is  despised  as  a  stranger;  nor 
is  he  contented  to  turn  his  hand  to  any  work, 
but  finds  fault  with  everything  which  the  needs 
of  the  monastery  require  to  be  done.  Then  of 
set  purpose  he  looks  out  for  opportunities 
of  being  offended  and  angry,  lest  he  might 
seem  to  have  gone  forth  from  the  discipline  of 
the  monastery  for  a  trivial  reason.  And  not 
content  to  take  his  departure  by  himself  alone, 
lest  it  should  be  thought  that  he  has  left  as 
it  were  from  his  own  fault,  he  never  stops 
corrupting  as  many  as  he  can  by  clandestine 
conferences.  But  if  the  severity  of  the  weather 
interferes  with  his  journey  and  travels,  he  re- 
mains all  the  time  in  suspense  and  anxiety  of 
heart,  and  never  stops  sowing  and  exciting 
discontent;  as  he  thinks  that  he  will  only  find 
consolation  for  his  departure  and  an  excuse 
for  his  fickleness  in  the  bad  character  and 
defects  of  the  monastery. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Of  tho  toils  which  a  deserter  from  a  monastery  must  undergo 
through  covetousness,  though  he  used  formerly  to  murmur 
at  the  very  slightest  tasks. 

And  so  he  is  driven  about,  and  more  and 
more  inflamed  with  the  love  of  his  money, 
which  when  it  is  acquired,  never  allows  a 
monk  either  to  remain  in  a  monastery  or  to 
live  under  the  discipline  of  a  rule.  And  when 
separating  him  like  some  wild  beast  from  the 


rest  of  the  herd,  it  has  made  him  through  want 
of  companions  an  animal  fit  for  prey,  and 
caused  him  to  be  easily  eaten  up,  as  he  is 
deprived  of  fellow  lodgers,  it  forces  him,  who 
once  thought  it  beneath  him  to  perform  the 
slight  duties  of  the  monastery,  to  labour  with- 
out stopping  night  and  day,  through  hope  of 
gain;  it  suffers  him  to  keep  no  services  of 
prayer,  no  system  of  fasting,  no  rule  of  vigils : 
it  does  not  allow  him  to  fulfil  the  duties  of 
seemly  intercession,  if  only  he  can  satisfy  the 
madness  of  avarice,  and  supply  his  daily 
wants;  inflaming  the  more  the  fire  of  covet- 
ousness, while  believing  that  it  will  be  ex- 
tinguished by  getting. 


CHAPTER   XL 

That  under  pretence  of  keeping  the  purse  women  have  to  be 
sought  to  dwell  with  them. 

Hence  many  are  led  on  over  an  abrupt  pre- 
cipice, and  by  an  irrevocable  fall,  to  death, 
and  not  content  to  possess  by  themselves  that 
money  which  they  either  never  had  before, 
or  which  by  a  bad  beginning  they  kept  back, 
they  seek  for  women  to  dwell  with  them,  to 
preserve  what  they  have  unjustifiably  amassed 
or  retained.  And  they  implicate  themselves 
in  so  many  harmful  and  dangerous  occupa- 
tions, that  they  are  cast  down  even  to  the 
depths  of  hell,  while  they  refuse  to  acquiesce 
in  that  saying  of  the  Apostle,  that  "having 
food  and  clothing  they  should  be  content " 
with  that  which  the  thrift  of  the  monastery 
supplied,  but  "wishing  to  become  rich  they 
fall  into  temptation  and  the  snare  of  the  devil, 
and  many  unprofitable  and  hurtful  desires, 
which  drown  men  in  destruction  and  perdi- 
tion. For  the  love  of  money,'"  i.e.  covetous- 
ness, "  is  a  root  of  all  kinds  of  evil,  which 
some  coveting  have  erred  from  the  faith,  and 
have  entangled  themselves  in  many  sorrows."  1 


CHAPTER    XII. 

An  instance  of  a  lukewarm  monk  caught  in  the  snares  of 
covetousness. 

I  know  of  one,  who  thinks  himself  a  monk, 
and  what  is  worse  flatters  himself  on  his  per- 
fection, who  had  been  received  into  a  mon- 
astery, and  when  charged  by  his  Abbot  not  to 
turn  his  thoughts  back  to  those  things  which 
he  had  given  up  and  renounced,  but  to  free 
himself  from  covetousness,  the  root  of  all 
kinds  of  evil,  and  from  earthly   snares;   and 

1  1  Tim.  vi.  8-10. 


252 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF  JOHN    CASSIAN. 


when  told  that  if  he  wished  to  be  cleansed 
from  his  former  passions,  by  which  he  saw  that 
he  was  from  time  to  time  grievously  oppressed, 
he  should  cease  from  caring  about  those 
things  which  even  formerly  were  not  his  own, 
entangled  in  the  chains  of  which  he  certainly 
could  not  make  progress  towards  purifying 
himself  of  his  faults:  with  an  angry  expression 
he  did  not  hesitate  to  answer,  "  If  you  have 
that  with  which  you  can  support  others,  why 
do  you  forbid  me  to  have  it  as  well  ?  "  1 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

What  the  elders  relate  to  the  juniors  in  the  matter  of 
stripping  off  sins. 

But  let  not  this  seem  superfluous  or  objec- 
tionable to  any  one.  For  unless  the  different 
kinds  of  sins  are  first  explained,  and  the  origin 
and  causes  of  diseases,  traced  out,  the  proper 
healing  remedies  cannot  be  applied  to  the  sick, 
nor  can  the  preservation  of  perfect  health 
be  secured  by  the  strong.  For  both  these 
matters  and  many  others  besides  these  are 
generally  put  forward  for  the  instruction  of 
the  younger  brethren  by  the  elders  in  their 
conferences,  as  they  have  had  experience 
of  numberless  falls  and  the  ruin  of  all  sorts  of 
people.  And  often  recognizing  in  ourselves 
many  of  these  things,  when  the  elders  ex- 
plained and  showed  them,  as  men  who  were 
themselves  disquieted2  by  the  same  passions, 
we  were  cured  without  any  shame  or  confu- 
sion on  our  part,  since  without  saying  anything 
we  learnt  both  the  remedies  and  the  causes  of 
the  sins  which  beset  us,  which  we  have  passed 
over  and  said  nothing  about,  not  from  fear  of 
the  brethren,  but  lest  our  book  should  chance 
to  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  who  have  had 
no  instruction  in  this  way  of  life,  and  might 
disclose  to  inexperienced  persons  what  ought 
to  be  known  only  to  those  who  are  toiling  and 
striving  to  reach  the  heights  of  perfection. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Instances  to  show  that  the  disease  of  covetousness  is  threefold. 

And  so  this  disease  and  unhealthy  state  is 
threefold,  and  is  condemned  with  equal  abhor- 
rence by  all  the  fathers.  One  feature  is  this, 
of  which  we  described  the  taint  above,  which 
by  deceiving  wretched  folk  persuades  them  to 
hoard  though  they  never  had  anything  of  their 
own  when  they  lived  in  the  world.     Another, 

1  Cur  prohibes  (Petschenig).     Gazaeus  omits  Cur. 

1  Puharcntur  (Petschenig).    The  text  of  Gazaeus  \\a.s pulsaremur. 


which  forces  men  afterwards  to  resume  and 
once  more  desire  those  things  which  in  the 
early  days  of  their  renunciation  of  the  world 
they  gave  up.  A  third,  which  springing  from 
a  faulty  and  hurtful  beginning  and  making 
a  bad  start,  does  not  suffer  those  whom  it  has 
once  infected  with  this  lukewarmness  of  mind 
to  strip  themselves  of  all  their  worldly  goods, 
through  fear  of  poverty  and  want  of  faith; 
and  those  who  keep  back  money  and  property 
which  they  certainly  ought  to  have  renounced 
and  forsaken,  it  never  allows  to  arrive  at 
the  perfection  of  the  gospel.  And  we  find 
in  Holy  Scripture  instances  of  these  three 
catastrophes  which  were  visited  with  no  light 
punishment.  For  when  Gehazi  wished  to 
acquire  what  he  had  never  had  before,  not  only 
did  he  fail  to  obtain  the  gift  of  prophecy  which 
it  would  have  been  his  to  receive  from  his 
master  by  hereditary  succession,  but  on  the 
contrary  he  was  covered  by  the  curse  of  the 
holy  Elisha  with  a  perpetual  leprosy:  -while 
Judas,  wanting  to  resume  the  possession  of  the 
wealth  which  he  had  formerly  cast  away  when 
he  followed  Christ,  not  only  fell  into  betraying 
the  Lord,  and  lost  his  apostolic  rank,  but  also 
was  not  allowed  to  close  his  life  with  the  com- 
mon lot  of  all  but  ended  it  by  a  violent  death. 
But  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  keeping  back  a 
part  of  that  which  was  formerly  their  own,  were 
at  the  Apostle's  word  punished  with  death. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Of  the  difference  between  one  who  renounces  the  world  badly 
and  one  who  does  not  renounce  it  at  all. 

Of  those  then  who  say  that  they  have  re- 
nounced this  world,  and  afterwards  being  over- 
come by  want  of  faith  are  afraid  of  losing  their 
worldly  goods,  a  charge  is  given  mystically 
in  Deuteronomy.  "  If  any  man  is  afraid  and 
of  a  fearful  heart  let  him  not  go  forth  to  war: 
let  him  go  back  and  return  home,  lest  he  make 
the  hearts  of  his  brethren  to  fear  as  he  himself 
is  timid  and  frightened."3  What  can  one 
want  plainer  than  this  testimony?  Does  not 
Scripture  clearly  prefer  that  they  should  not 
take  on  them  even  the  earliest  stages  of  this 
profession  and  its  name,  rather  than  by  their 
persuasion  and  bad  example  turn  others  back 
from  the  perfection  of  the'  gospel,  and  weaken 
them  by  their  faithless  terror.  And  so  they 
are  bidden  to  withdraw  from  the  battle  and 
return  to  their  homes,  because  a  man  cannot 
fight  the  Lord's  battle  with  a  double  heart. 
For  "a  double-minded  man  is  unstable  in  all 
his  ways."  4     And  thinking,  according  to  that 


3  Deut.  xx.  S. 


*  S.  James  i.  8. 


BOOK   VII. 


253 


Parable  in  the  Gospel,1  that  he  who  goes  forth 
with  ten  thousand  men  against  a  king  who 
comes  with  twenty  thousand,  cannot  possibly 
fight,  they  should,  while  he  is  yet  a  great  way 
off,  ask  for  peace ;  that  is,  it  is  better  for  them 
not  even  to  take  the  first  step  towards  renun- 
ciation, rather  than  afterwards  following  it  up 
coldly,  to  involve  themselves  in  still  greater 
dangers.  For  "  it  is  better  not  to  vow,  than 
to  vow  and  not  pay."  "  But  finely  is  the  one 
described  as  coming  with  ten  thousand  and 
the  other  with  twenty.  For  the  number  of 
sins  which  attack  us  is  far  larger  than  that  of 
the  virtues  which  fight  for  us.  But  "no  man 
can  serve  God  and  Mammon."3  And  "no 
man  putting  his  hand  to  the  plough  and  look- 
ing back  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of  God."  4 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Of  the  authority  under  which  those  shelter  themselves  who 
object  to  stripping  themselves  of  their  goods. 

These  then  try  to  make  out  a  case  for  their 
original  avarice,  by  some  authority  from  Holy 
Scripture,  which  they  interpret  with  base  in- 
genuity, in  their  desire  to  wrest  and  pervert 
to  their  own  purposes  a  saying  of  the  Apostle 
or  rather  of  the  Lord  Himself:  and,  not 
adapting  their  own  life  or  understanding  to 
the  meaning  of  the  Scripture,  but  making  the 
meaning  of  Scripture  bend  to  the  desires  of 
their  own  lust,  they  try  to  make  it  to  cor- 
respond to  their  own  views,  and  say  that  it  is 
written,  "  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive. "  5  And  by  an  entirely  wrong  interpre- 
tation of  this  they  think  that  they  can  weaken 
the  force  of  that  saying  of  the  Lord  in  which 
he  says:  "If  thou  wilt  be  perfect,  go  sell  all 
that  thou  hast  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou 
shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven ;  and  come,  fol- 
low me."  6  And  they  think  that  under  colour 
of  this  they  need  not  deprive  themselves  of 
their  riches :  declaring  indeed  that  they  are 
more  blessed  if,  supported  by  that  which 
originally  belonged  to  them,  they  give  to 
others  also  out  of  their  superabundance.  And 
while  they  are  shy  of  embracing  with  the 
Apostle  that  glorious  state  of  abnegation  for 
Christ's  sake,  they  will  not  be  content  either 
with  manual  labour  or  the  sparing  diet  of  the 
monastery.  And  the  only  thing  is  that  these 
must  either  know  that  they  are  deceiving 
themselves,  and  have  not  really  renounced 
the  world  while  they  are  clinging  to  their 
former  riches;    or,    if  they  really  and  truly 


1  S.  Luke  xiv.  31,  32. 

2  Eccl.  v.  4  (LXX.). 
8  S.  Matt.  vi.  24. 


*  S.  Luke  ix.  62. 

c  Acts  xx.  35. 

0  S.  Matt.  xix.  21. 


want  to  make  trial  of  the  monastic  life,  they 
must  give  up  and  forsake  all  these  things  and 
keep  back  nothing  of  that  which  they  have 
renounced,  and,  with  the  Apostle,  glory  "  in 
hunger  and  thirst,  in  cold  and  nakedness."7 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Of  the  renunciation  of  the  apostles  and  the  primitive  church. 

As  if  he  (who,  by  his  assertion  that  he  was 
endowed  with  the  privileges  of  a  Roman  citizen 
from  his  birth,  testifies  that  he  was  no  mean 
person  according  to  this  world's  rank)  might 
not  likewise  have  been  supported  by  the  prop- 
erty which  formerly  belonged  to  him!  And 
as  if  those  men  who  were  possessors  of  lands 
and  houses  in  Jerusalem  and  sold  everything 
and  kept  back  nothing  whatever  for  them- 
selves, and  brought  the  price  of  them  and  laid 
it  at  the  feet  of  the  apostles,  might  not  have 
supplied  their  bodily  necessities  from  their 
own  property,  had  this  been  considered  the 
best  plan  by  the  apostles,  or  had  they  them- 
selves deemed  it  preferable !  But  they  gave 
up  all  their  property  at  once,  and  preferred 
to  be  supported  by  their  own  labour,  and  by 
the  contributions  of  the  Gentiles,  of  whose 
collection  the  holy  Apostle  speaks  in  writing 
to  the  Romans,  and  declaring  his  own  office 
in  this  matter  to  them,  and  urging  them  on 
likewise  to  make  this  collection:  "But  now  I 
go  to  Jerusalem  to  minister  to  the  saints. 
For  it  has  pleased  them  of  Macedonia  and 
Achaia  to  make  a  certain  contribution  for  the 
poor  saints  who  are  at  Jerusalem :  it  has 
pleased  them  indeed,  and  their  debtors  they 
are.  For  if  the  Gentiles  are  made  partakers 
of  their  spiritual  things,  they  ought  also  to 
minister  to  them  in  carnal  things."  8  To  the 
Corinthians  also  he  shows  the  same  anxiety 
about  this,  and  urges  them  the  more  diligently 
to  prepare  before  his  arrival  a  collection, 
which  he  was  intending  to  send  for  their 
needs.  "  But  concerning  the  collection  for 
the  saints,  as  I  appointed  to  the  churches  of 
Galatia,  so  also  do  ye.  Let  each  one  of  you 
on  the  first  day  of  the  week  put  apart  with 
himself,  laying  up  what  it  shall  well  please 
him,  that  when  I  come  the  collections  be  not 
then  to  be  made.  But  when  I  come  whomso- 
ever you  shall  approve  by  your  letters,  them 
I  will  send  to  carry  your  grace  to  Jerusalem." 
And  that  he  may  stimulate  them  to  make  a 
larger  collection,  he  adds,  "But  if  it  be  meet 
that  I  also  go,  they  shall  go  with  me :  "  9  mean- 
ing if  your  offering  is  of  such  a  character  as 


7  2  Cor.  ii.  27.         8  Rom.  xv.  25-27. 


1  Cor.  xvi. 


254 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


to  deserve  to  be  taken  there  by  my  ministra- 
tion. To  the  Galatians  too,  he  testifies  that 
when  he  was  settling  the  division  of  the  minis- 
try of  preaching  with  the  apostles,  he  had 
arranged  this  with  James,  Peter,  and  John : 
that  he  should  undertake  the  preaching  to  the 
Gentiles,  but  should  never  repudiate  care  and 
anxious  thought  for  the  poor  who  were  at 
Jerusalem,  who  for  Christ's  sake  gave  up  all 
their  goods,  and  submitted  to  voluntary  pov- 
erty. "And  when  they  saw,"  said  he,  "the 
grace  of  God  which  was  given  to  me,  James 
and  Cephas  and  John,  who  seemed  to  be  pillars, 
gave  to  me  and  to  Barnabas  the  right  hand 
of  fellowship,  that  we  should  preach  to  the 
Gentiles,  but  they  to  those  of  the  circum- 
cision :  only  they  would  that  we  should  be 
mindful  of  the  poor."  A  matter  which  he 
testifies  that  he  attended  to  most  carefully, 
saying,  "which  also  I  was  anxious  of  myself  to 
do."1  Who  then  are  the  more  blessed,  those 
who  but  lately  were  gathered  out  of  the  number 
of  the  heathen,  and  being  unable  to  climb  to 
the  heights  of  the  perfection  of  the  gospel, 
clung  to  their  own  property,  in  whose  case  it 
was  considered  a  great  thing  by  the  Apostle  if 
at  least  they  were  restrained  from  the  worship 
of  idols,  and  from  fornication,  and  from  things 
strangled,  and  from  blood,2  and  had  embraced 
the  faith  of  Christ,  with  their  goods  and  all : 
or  those  who  live  up  to  the  demands  of  the 
gospel,  and  carry  the  Lord's  cross  daily,  and 
want  nothing  out  of  their  property  to  remain 
for  their  own  use?  And  if  the  blessed  Apostle 
himself,  bound  with  chains  and  fetters,  or 
hampered  by  the  difficulties  of  travelling, 
and  for  these .  reasons  not  being  able  to  pro- 
vide with  his  hands,  as  he  generally  did,  for 
the  supply  of  his  food,  declares  that  he  re- 
ceived that  which  supplied  his  wants  from  the 
brethren  who  came  from  Macedonia;  "For 
that  which  was  lacking  tome,"  he  says,  "the 
brethren  who  came  from  Macedonia  sup- 
plied :  "  3  and  to  the  Philippians  he  says :  "  For 
ye  Philippians  know  also  that  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  gospel,  when  I  came  from  Mace- 
donia, no  church  communicated  with  me  in 
the  matter  of  giving  and  receiving,  except  you 
only;  because  even  in  Thessalonica  once  and 
again  you  sent  to  supply  my  needs :  "  4  (if  this 
was  so)  then,  according  to  the  notion  of  these 
men,  which  they  have  formed  in  the  coldness 
of  their  heart,  will  those  men  really  be  more 
blessed  than  the  Apostle,  because  it  is  found 
that  they  have  ministered  to  him  of  their  sub- 
stance? But  this  no  one  will  venture  to  as- 
sert, however  big  a  fool  he  may  be. 


1  Gal.  ii.  g,  io. 
1  Acts  xv.  20. 


s  2  Cor.  xi.  q. 
4  Phil.  iv.  15,  16. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

That  if  we  want  to  imitate  the  apostles  we  ought  not  to  live 
according  to  our  own  prescriptions,  but  to  follow  their 
example. 

Wherefore  if  we  want  to  obey  the  gospel 
precept,  and  to  show  ourselves  the  followers 
of  the  Apostle  and  the  whole  primitive  church, 
or  of  the  fathers  who  in  our  own  days  suc- 
ceeded to  their  virtues  and  perfection,  we 
should  not  acquiesce  in  our  own  prescrip- 
tions, promising  ourselves  perfection  from  this 
wretched  and  lukewarm  condition  of  ours: 
but  following  their  footsteps,  we  should  by 
no  means  aim  at  looking  after  our  own  inter- 
ests, but  should  seek  out  the  discipline  and 
system  of  a  monastery,  that  we  may  in  very 
truth  renounce  this  world;  preserving  nothing 
of  those  things  which  we  have  despised 
through  the  temptation  of  want  of  faith ;  and 
should  look  for  our  daily  food,  not  from  any 
store  of  money  of  our  own,  but  from  our  own 
labours. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

A  saying  of  S.  Basil,  the  Bishop,  directed  against  Syncletius.5 

There  is  current  a  saying  of  S.  Basil, 
Bishop  of  Cassarea,  directed  against  a  certain 
Syncletius,  who  was  growing  indifferent  with 
the  sort  of  lukewarmness  of  which  we  have 
spoken ;  who,  though  he  professed  to  have  re- 
nounced this  world,  had  yet  kept  back  for 
himself  some  of  his  property,  not  liking  to  be 
supported  by  the  labour  of  his  own  hands, 
and  to  acquire  true  humility  by  stripping 
himself  and  by  grinding  toil,  and  the  subjec- 
tion of  the  monastery:  "You  have,"  said  he, 
"  spoilt  Syncletius,  and  not  made  a  monk." 


'    CHAPTER   XX. 

How  contemptible  it  is  to  be  overcome  by  covetousness. 

And  so  if  we  want  to  strive  lawfully  in  our 
spiritual  combat,  let  us  expel  this  dangerous 
enemy  also  from  our  hearts.  For  to  overcome 
him  does  not  so  much  show  great  virtue,  as  to 
be  beaten  by  him  is  shameful  and  disgraceful. 
For  when  you  are  overpowered  by  a  strong 
man;  though  there  is  grief  in  being  overthrown, 
and  distress  at  the  loss  of  victory,  yet  some 
consolation  may  be  derived  by  the  vanquished 


5  Petschemg's  text  has  Syncletium  as  a  proper  narfie.  Gazaeus, 
however,  thinks  that  it  should  be  Syncleticum  ;  i.e.  SvykAtjtikos  or 
Senator  :  and  in  the  saying  of  S.  Basil  at  the  close  of  the  chapter  actu- 
ally reads  (apparently  without  any  MS.  authority),  Et  Senatorem, 
inquit,  perdidisti. 


BOOK   VII. 


255 


from  the  strength  of  their  opponent.  But  if 
the  enemy  is  a  poor  creature,  and  the  struggle 
a  feeble  one,  besides  the  grief  for  defeat  there 
is  confusion  of  a  more  disgraceful  character, 
and  a  shame  which  is  worse  than  loss. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

How  covetousness  can  bs  conquered. 

And  in  this  case  it  will  be  the  greatest 
victory  and  a  lasting  triumph,  if,  as  is  said, 
the  conscience  of  the  monk  is  not  defiled  by 
the  possession  of  the  smallest  coin.  For  it 
is  an  impossibility  for  him  who,  overcome  in 
the  matter  of  a  small  possession,  has  once 
admitted  into  his  heart  a  root  of  evil  desire, 
not  to  be  inflamed  presently  with  the  heat  of 
a  still  greater  desire.  For  the  soldier  of 
Christ  will  be  victorious  and  in  safety,  and 
free  from  all  the  attacks  of  desire,  so  long  as 
this  most  evil  spirit  does  not  implant  in  his 
heart  a  seed  of  this  desire.  Wherefore,  though 
in  the  matter  of  all  kinds  of  sins  we  ought 
ordinarily  to  watch  the  serpent's  head,1  yet  in 
this  above  all  we  should  be  more  keenly  on 
our  guard.  For  if  it  has  been  admitted  it  will 
grow  by  feeding  on  itself,  and  will  kindle  for 
itself  a  worse  fire.  And  so  we  must  not  only 
guard  against  the  possession  of  money,  but  also 
must  expel  from  our  souls  the  desire  for  it. 
For  we  should  not  so  much  avoid  the  results 
of  covetousness,  as  cut  off  by  the  roots  all 
disposition  towards  it.  For  it  will  do  no  good 
not  to  possess  money,  if  there  exists  in  us  the 
desire  for  getting  it. 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

That  one  who  actually  has  no  money  may  still  be  deemed 
covetous. 

For  it  is  possible  even  for  one  who  has  no 
money  to  be  by  no  means  free  from  the  malady 
of  covetousness,  and  for  the  blessing  of  pen- 
ury to  do  him  no  good,  because  he  has  not 
been  able  to  root  out  the  sin  of  cupidity: 
delighting  in  the  advantages  of  poverty,  not 
in  the  merit  of  the  virtue,  and  satisfied  with 
the  burden  of  necessity,  not  without  coldness 
of  heart.  For  just  as  the  word  of  the  gospel 
declares  of  those  who  are  not  defiled  in  body, 
that  they  are  adulterers  in  heart;2  so  it  is 
possible  that  those  who  are  in  no  way  pressed 
down  with  the  weight  of  money  may  be  con- 
demned with  the  covetous  in  disposition  and 
intent.      For  it  was  the  opportunity  of  possess- 


1  Gen.  iii.  15. 


5  S.  Matt.  v.  28. 


ing  which  was  wanting  in  their  case,  and  not 
the  will  for  it:  which  latter  is  always  crowned 
by  God,  rather  than  compulsion.  And  so  we 
must  use  all  diligence  lest  the  fruits  of  our 
labours  should  be  destroyed  to  no  purpose. 
For  it  is  a  wretched  thing  to  have  endured  the 
effects  of  poverty  and  want,  but  to  have  lost 
their  fruits,  through  the  fault  of  a  shattered 
will. 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

An  example  drawn  from  the  case  of  Judas. 

Would  you  like  to  know  how  dangerously 
and  harmfully  that  incitement,  unless  it  has 
been  carefully  eradicated,  will  shoot  up  for  the 
destruction  of  its  owner,  and  put  forth  all 
sorts  of  branches  of  different  sins  ?  Look  at 
Judas,  reckoned  among  the  number  of  the 
apostles,  and  see  how  because  he  would  not 
bruise  the  deadly  head  of  this  serpent  it  de- 
stroyed him  with  its  poison,  and  how  when 
he  was  caught  in  the  snares  of  concupiscence, 
it  drove  him  into  sin  and  a  headlong  downfall, 
so  that  he  was  persuaded  to  sell  the  Redeemer 
of  the  world  and  the  author  of  man's  salva- 
tion for  thirty  pieces  of  silver.  And  he  could 
never  have  been  impelled  to  this  heinous  sin 
of  the  betrayal  if  he  had  not  been  contami- 
nated by  the  sin  of  covetousness:  nor  would 
he  have  made  himself  wickedly  guilty  of  be- 
traying 3  the  Lord,  unless  he  had  first  accus- 
tomed himself  to  rob  the  bag  intrusted  to  him. 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

That  covetousness  cannot  be  overcome  except  by  stripping 
one's  self  of  everything. 

This  is  a  sufficiently  dreadful  and  clear  in- 
stance of  this  tyranny,  which,  when  once  the 
mind  is  taken  prisoner  by  it,  allows  it  to  keep 
to  no  rules  of  honesty,  nor  to  be  satisfied  with 
any  additions  to  its  gains.  For  we  must  seek 
to  put  an  end  to  this  madness,  not  by  riches, 
but  by  stripping  ourselves  of  them.  Lastly, 
when  he  (viz.  Judas)  had  received  the  bag  set 
apart  for  the  distribution  to  the  poor,  and  in- 
trusted to  his  care  for  this  purpose,  that  he 
might  at  least  satisfy  himself  with  plenty  of 
money,  and  set  a  limit  to  his  avarice,  yet  his 
plentiful  supply  only  broke  out  into  a  still 
greedier  incitement  of  desire,  so  that  he  was 
ready  no  longer  secretly  to  rob  the  bag,  but 
actually  to  sell  the  Lord  Himself.  For  the 
madness  of  this  avarice  is  not  satisfied  with 
any  amount  of  riches. 


Negaticnis  (Petschenig).     Another  reading  is  necationis. 


'56 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

Of  the  deaths  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  and  Judas,  which  they 
underwent  through  the  impulse  of  covetousness. 

Lastly,  the  chief  of  the  apostles,  taught  by 
these  instances,  and  knowing  that  one  who 
has  any  avarice  cannot  bridle  it,  and  that  it 
cannot  be  put  an  end  to  by  a  large  or  small 
sum  of  money,  but  only  by  the  virtue  of  renun- 
ciation of  everything,  punished  with  death 
Ananias  and  Sapphira,  who  were  mentioned 
before,  because  they  had  kept  back  something 
out  of  their  property,  that  that  death  which 
Judas  had  voluntarily  met  with  for  the  sin  of 
betraying  the  Lord,  they  might  also  undergo 
for  their  lying  avarice.1  How  closely  do  the 
sin  and  punishment  correspond  in  each  case ! 
In  the  one  case  treachery,  in  the  other  false- 
hood, was  the  result  of  covetousness.  In  the 
one  case  the  truth  is  betrayed,  in  the  other 
the  sin  of  lying  is  committed.  For  though 
the  issues  of  their  deeds  may  appear  different, 
yet  they  coincide  in  having  one  and  the  same 
aim.  For  the  one,  in  order  to  escape  poverty, 
desired  to  take  back  what  he  had  forsaken; 
the  others,  for  fear  lest  they  might  become 
poor,  tried  to  keep  back  something  out  of 
their  property,  which  they  should  have  either 
offered  to  the  Apostle  in  good  faith,  or  have 
given  entirely  to  the  brethren.  And  so  in 
each  case  there  follows  the  judgment  of  death; 
because  each  sin  sprang  from  the  root  of 
covetousness.  And  so  if  against  those  who 
did  not  covet  other  persons'  goods,  but  tried 
to  be  sparing  of  their  own,  and  had  no  desire 
to  acquire,  but  only  the  wish  to  retain,  there 
went  forth  so  severe  a  sentence,  what  should 
we  think  of  those  who  desire  to  amass  wealth, 
without  ever  having  had  any  of  their  own,  and, 
making  a  show  of  poverty  before  men,  are 
before  God  convicted  of  being  rich,  through 
the  passion  of  avarice  ? 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

That  covetousness  brings  upon  the  soul  a  spiritual  leprosy. 

And  such  are  seen  to  be  lepers  in  spirit  and 
heart,  after  the  likeness  of  Gehazi,  who,  desir- 
ing the  uncertain  riches  of  this  world,  was 
covered  with  the  taint  of  foul  leprosy,  through 
which  he  left  us  a  clear  example  that  every 
soul  which  is  defiled  with  the  stain  of  cupid- 
ity is  covered  with  the  spiritual  leprosy  of 
sin,  and  is  counted  as  unclean  before  God 
with  a  perpetual  curse. 

1  Cf.  Acts  v. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

Scripture  proofs  by  which  one  who  is  aiming  at  perfection  is 
taught  not  to  take  back  again  what  he  has  given  up  and 
renounced. 

If  then  through  the  desire  of  perfection  you 
have  forsaken  all  things  and  followed  Christ 
who  says  to  thee,  "  Go  sell  all  that  thou  hast, 
and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have 
treasure  in  heaven:  and  come  follow  me,"2 
why,  having  put  your  hand  to  the  plough,  do 
you  look  back,  so  that  you  will  be  declared 
by  the  voice  of  the  same  Lord  not  to  be  fit 
for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ? 3  When  secure  on 
the  top  of  the  gospel  roof,  why  do  you  descend 
to  carry  away  something  from  the  house,  from 
those  things,  namely,  which  beforetime  you 
despised?  When  you  are  out  in  the  field 
and  working  at  the  virtues,  why  do  you  run 
back  and  try  to  clothe  yourself  again  with 
what  belongs  to  this  world,  which  you  stripped 
off  when  you  renounced  it?  4  But  if  you  were 
hindered  by  poverty  from  having  anything  to 
give  up,  still  less  ought  you  to  amass  what 
you  never  had  before.  For  by  the  grace  of 
the  Lord  you  were  for  this  purpose  made  ready 
that  you  might  hasten  to  him  the  more  readily, 
being  hampered  by  no  snares  of  wealth.  But 
let  no  one  who  is  wanting  in  this  be  disap- 
pointed ;  for  there  is  no  one  who  has  not  some- 
thing to  give  up.  He  has  renounced  all  the 
possessions  of  this  world,  whoever  has  thor- 
oughly eradicated  the  desire  to  possess  them. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

That  the  victory  over  covetousness  can  only  be  gained  by 
stripping  one's  self  bare  of  everything. 

This  then  is  the  perfect  victory  over  covet- 
ousness :  not  to  allow  a  gleam  from  the  very 
smallest  scrap  of  it  to  remain  in  our  heart,  as 
we  know  that  we  shall  have  no  further  power 
of  quenching  it,  if  we  cherish  even  the  tiniest 
bit  of  a  spark  of  it  in  us. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

How  a  monk  can  retain  his  poverty. 

And  we  can  only  preserve  this  virtue  unim- 
paired if  we  remain  in  a  monastery,  and  as 
the  Apostle  says,  having  food  and  clothing, 
are  therewith  content.5 


-  Matt.  xix.  21. 

3  Cf.  S.  Luke  ix.  62. 


Cf.  S.  Luke  xvii.  31. 
1  Tim.  vi.  8. 


BOOK   VIII. 


257 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

The  remedies  against  the  disease  of  covetousness. 

Keeping  then  in  mind  the  judgment  of 
Ananias  and  Sapphira  let  us  dread  keeping 
back  any  of  those  things  which  we  gave  up 
and  vowed  utterly  to  forsake.  Let  us  also 
fear  the  example  of  Gehazi,  who  for  the  sin 
of  covetousness  was  chastised  with  the  pun- 
ishment of  perpetual  leprosy.  From  this  let 
us  beware  of  acquiring  that  wealth  which 
we  never  formerly  possessed.  Moreover  also 
dreading  both  the  fault  and  the  death  of  Judas, 
let  us  with  all  the  power  that  we  have  avoid 
taking  back  any  of  that  wealth  which  once  we 
cast  away  from  us.  Above  all,  considering 
the  state  of  our  weak  and  shifty  nature,  let  us 
beware  lest  the  day  of  the  Lord  come  upon  us 
as  a  thief  in  the  night,1  and  find  our  conscience 
defiled  even  by  a  single  penny;  for  this  would 
make  void  all  the  fruits  of  our  renunciation 
of  the  world,  and  cause  that  which  was  said 


to  the  rich  man  in  the  gospel  to  be  directed 
towards  us  also  by  the  voice  of  the  Lord: 
"Thou  fool,  this  night  thy  soul  shall  be  re- 
quired of  thee:  then  whose  shall  those  things 
be  which  thou  hast  prepared?  " 4  And  taking 
no  thought  for  the  morrow,  let  us  never  allow 
ourselves  to  be  enticed  away  from  the  rule  of 
the  Coenobium. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

That  no  one  can  get  the  better  of  covetousness  unless  he  stays 
in  the  Ccenobium  :  and  how  one  can  remain  there. 

But  we  shall  certainly  not  be  suffered  to 
do  this,  nor  even  to  remain  under  the  rule  of 
a  system,  unless  the  virtue  of  patience,  which 
can  only  spring  from  humility  as  its  source, 
is  first  securely  fixed  and  established  in  us. 
For  the  one  teaches  us  not  to  trouble  any  one 
else;  the  other,  to  endure  with  magnanimity 
wrongs  offered  to  us. 


BOOK    VIII. 


OF  THE   SPIRIT  OF  ANGER. 


CHAPTER   I. 

How  our  fourth  conflict  is  against  the  sin  of  anger,  and  how 
many  evils  this  passion  produces. 

In  our  fourth  combat  the  deadly  poison  of 
anger  has  to  be  utterly  rooted  out  from  the 
inmost  corners  of  our  soul.  For  as  long  as 
this  remains  in  our  hearts,  and  blinds  with  its 
hurtful  darkness  the  eye  of  the  soul,  we  can 
neither  acquire  right  judgment  and  discre- 
tion, nor  gain  the  insight  which  springs  from 
an  honest  gaze,  or  ripeness  of  counsel,  nor 
can  we  be  partakers  of  life,  or  retentive  of 
righteousness,  or  even  have  the  capacity  for 
spiritual  and  true  light:  "for,"  says  one, 
"mine  eye  is  disturbed  by  reason  of  anger."2 
Nor  can  we  become  partakers  of  wisdom,  even 
though  we  are  considered  wise  by  universal 
consent,  for  "anger  rests  in  the  bosom  of 
fools."8     Nor  can  we   even  attain    immortal 

1  1  Thcss.  v.  4.      2  ps.  xxx.  (xxxi.)  10.     3  Eccl.  vii.  10  (LXX.). 


life,  although  we  are  accounted  prudent  in  the 
opinion  of  everybody,  for  "anger  destroys 
even  the  prudent."5  Nor  shall  we  be  able 
with  clear  judgment  of  heart  to  secure  the  con- 
trolling power  of  righteousness,  even  though 
we  are  reckoned  perfect  and  holy  in  the  esti- 
mation of  all  men,  for  "the  wrath  of  man 
worketh  not  the  righteousness  of  God."  6  Nor 
can  we  by  any  possibility  acquire  that  esteem 
and  honour  which  is  so  frequently  seen  even  in 
worldlings,  even  though  we  are  thought  noble 
and  honourable  through  the  privileges  of  birth, 
because  "an  angry  man  is  dishonoured."  7  Nor 
again  can  we  secure  any  ripeness  of  counsel, 
even  though  we  appear  to  be  weighty,  and 
endowed  with  the  utmost  knowledge ;  because 
"an  angry  man  acts  without  counsel."8  Nor 
can  we  be  free  from  dangerous  disturbances, 
nor  be  without  sin,  even  though  no  sort  of 
disturbances  be  brought  upon  us  by  others; 


4  S.  Luke  xii.  20. 

5  Prov.  xv.  1  (LXX.). 

6  S.  James  i.  20. 


^  Prov.  xi.  25  (LXX.). 
8  Prov.  xiv.  17  (LXX.) 


258 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF  JOHN   CASSIAN. 


because  "  a  passionate  man  engenders  quarrels, 
but  an  angry  man  digs  up  sins."  * 


CHAPTER   II. 

Of  those  who  say  that  anger  is  not  injurious,  if  we  are  angry 
with  those  who  do  wrong,  since  God  Himself  is  said  to  be 
angry. 

We  have  heard  some  people  trying  to  excuse 
this  most  pernicious  disease  of  the  soul,  in 
such  a  way  as  to  endeavour  to  extenuate  it  by  a 
rather  shocking  way  of  interpreting  Scripture: 
as  they  say  that  it  is  not  injurious  if  we  are 
angry  with  the  brethren  who  do  wrong,  since, 
say  they,  God  Himself  is  said  to  rage  and  to 
be  angry  with  those  who  either  will  not  know 
Him,  or,  knowing  Him,  spurn  Him,  as  here: 
"  And  the  anger  of  the  Lord  was  kindled  against 
His  people ;  "  a  or  where  the  prophet  prays  and 
says,  "  O  Lord,  rebuke  me  not  in  thine  anger, 
neither  chasten  me  in  thy  displeasure;"3  not 
understanding  that,  while  they  want  to  open 
to  men  an  excuse  for  a  most  pestilent  sin,  they 
are  ascribing  to  the  Divine  Infinity  and  Foun- 
tain of  all  purity  a  taint  of  human  passion. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Of  those  things  which  are  spoken  of  God  anthropomorphically. 

For  if  when  these  things  are  said  of  God 
they  are  to  be  understood  literally  in  a  mate- 
rial and  gross  signification,  then  also  He  sleeps, 
as  it  is  said,  "Arise,  wherefore  sleepest  thou, 
O  Lord?"4  though  it  is  elsewhere  said  of 
Him:  " Behold  he  that  keepeth  Israel  shall 
neither  slumber  nor  sleep."  5  And  He  stands 
and  sits,  since  He  says,  "  Heaven  is  my  seat, 
and  earth  the  footstool  for  my  feet :  "  6  though 
He  "measure  out  the  heaven  with  his  hand, 
and  holdeth  the  earth  in  his  fist."7  And  He 
is  "drunken  with  wine"  as  it  is  said,  "The 
Lord  awoke  like  a  sleeper,  a  mighty  man, 
drunken  with  wine;"8  He  "who  only  hath 
immortality  and  dwelleth  in  the  light  which 
no  man  can  approach  unto :  "  9  not  to  say  any- 
thing of  the  "  ignorance  "  and  "  forgetfulness," 


1  Prov.  xxix.  22  (LXX.)  'Aviqp  0U|U.io8r)s  iyeipei  v(iko<;,  a.v'r)p  &k 
opyiAo?  efiopi*£ei'  afxapTLav.  The  old  Latin  as  given  by  Sabatier 
has  "  Vir  animosus  parit  zixas  :  virautem  iracundus  effodit  peccata." 
The  verse  is  quoted  by  Gregory  the  Great  in  a  passage  which  seems 
a  reminiscence  of  Cassian's  words,  with  the  reading  effundit  for 
effodit  (Moral  V.  xxxi.)  Jerome's  rendering  in  the  Vulgate  is  quite 
different:  "  Vir  iracundus  provocat  zixas;  et  qui  ad  indignandum 
facilis  est  erit  ad  peccandum  proclivior." 

2  Ps.  cv.  (cvi.)  40. 

3  Ps.  vi.  2. 

4  Ps.  xliii.  (xliv.)  23. 

5  Ps.  cxx.  (exxi.)  4. 

6  Isa.  lxvi.  1. 

7  Isa.  xl.  12. 

8  Ps.  lxxvii.  (lxxviii.)  65. 

9  1  Tim.  vi.  16. 


of  which  we  often  find  mention  in  Holy  Scrip- 
ture: nor  lastly  of  the  outline  of  His  limbs, 
which  are  spoken  of  as  arranged  and  ordered 
like  a  man's;  e.g.,  the  hair,  head,  nostrils, 
eyes,  face,  hands,  arms,  fingers,  belly,  and 
feet:  if  we  are  willing  to  take  all  of  which 
according  to  the  bare  literal  sense,  we  must 
think  of  God  as  in  fashion  with  the  outline 
of  limbs,  and  a  bodily  form;  which  indeed  is 
shocking  even  to  speak  of,  and  must  be  far 
from  our  thoughts. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

In  what  sense  we  should  understand  the  passions  and  human 
parts  which  are  ascribed  to  the  unchanging  and  incorporeal 
God. 

And  so  as  without  horrible  profanity  these 
things  cannot  be  understood  literally  of  Him 
who  is  declared  by  the  authority  of  Holy 
Scripture  to  be  invisible,  ineffable,  incompre- 
hensible, inestimable,  simple,  and  uncom- 
pounded,  so  neither  can  the  passion  of  anger 
and  wrath  be  attributed  to  that  unchangeable 
nature  without  fearful  blasphemy.  For  we 
ought  to  see  that  the  limbs  signify  the  divine 
powers  and  boundless  operations  of  God, 
which  can  only  be  represented  to  us  by  the 
familiar  expression  of  limbs:  by  the  mouth 
we  should  understand  that  His  utterances  are 
meant,  which  are  of  His  mercy  continually 
poured  into  the  secret  senses  of  the  soul,  or 
which  He  spoke  among  our  fathers  and  the 
prophets :  by  the  eyes  we  can  understand  the 
boundless  character  of  His  sight  with  which 
He  sees  and  looks  through  all  things,  and  so 
nothing  is  hidden  from  Him  of  what  is  done 
or  can  be  done  by  us,  or  even  thought.  By 
the  expression  "hands,"  we  understand  His 
providence  and  work,  by  which  He  is  the  cre- 
ator and  author  of  all  things;  the  arms  are 
the  emblems  of  His  might  and  government, 
with  which  He  upholds,  rules  and  controls  all 
things.  And  not  to  speak  of  other  things, 
what  else  does  the  hoary  hair  of  His  head  sig- 
nify but  the  eternity  and  perpetuity  of  Deity, 
through  which  He  is  without  any  beginning, 
and  before  all  times,  and  excels  all  creatures? 
So  then  also  when  we  read  of  the  anger  or  fury 
of  the  Lord,  we  should  take  it  not  &vdooinonud<as ; 
i.e.,  according  to  an  unworthy  meaning  of 
human  passion,10  but  in  a  sense  worthy  of  God, 
who  is  free  from  all  passion;  so  that  by  this 
we  should  understand  that  He  is  the  judge 
and  avenger  of  all  the  unjust  things  which  are 
done  in  this  world;  and  by  reason  of  these 

10  On  the  heresy  of  the  Anthropomorphites  see  the  notes  on  Con- 
ference X.  c.  ii. 


BOOK   VIII. 


259 


terms  and  their  meaning  we  should  dread 
Him  as  the  terrible  rewarder  of  our  deeds, 
and  fear  to  do  anything  against  His  will.  For 
human  nature  is  wont  to  fear  those  whom  it 
knows  to  be  indignant,  and  is  afraid  of  offend- 
ing: as  in  the  case  of  some  most  just  judges, 
avenging  wrath  is  usually  feared  by  those  who 
are  tormented  by  some  accusation  of  their 
conscience;  not  indeed  that  this  passion 
exists  in  the  minds  of  those  who  are  going  to 
judge  with  perfect  equity,  but  that,  while  they 
so  fear,  the  disposition  of  the  judge  towards 
them  is  that  which  is  the  precursor  ot  a  just 
and  impartial  execution  of  the  law.  And  this, 
with  whatever  kindness  and  gentleness  it  may 
be  conducted,  is  deemed  by  those  who  are 
justly  to  be  punished  to  be  the  most  savage 
wrath  and  vehement  anger.  It  would  be  tedi- 
ous and  outside  the  scope  of  the  present  work 
were  we  to  explain  all  the  things  which  are 
spoken  metaphorically  of  God  in  Holy  Scrip- 
ture, with  human  figures.  Let  it  be  enough 
for  our  present  purpose,  which  is  aimed  against 
the  sin  of  wrath,  to  have  said  this  that  no  one 
may  through  ignorance  draw  down  upon  him- 
self a  cause  of  this  evil  and  of  eternal  death, 
out  of  those  Scriptures  in  which  he  should 
seek  for  saintliness  and  immortality  as  the 
remedies  to  bring  life  and  salvation. 

CHAPTER   V. 

How  calm  a  monk  ought  to  be. 

And  so  a  monk  aiming  at  perfection,  and 
desiring  to  strive  lawfully  in  his  spiritual 
combat,  should  be  free  from  all  sin  of  anger 
and  wrath,  and  should  listen  to  the  charge 
which  the  "chosen  vessel"  gives  him.  "Let 
all  anger,"  says  he,  and  wrath,  and  clamour, 
and  evil  speaking,  be  taken  away  from  among 
you,  with  all  malice."  1  When  he  says,  "Let 
all  anger  be  taken  away  from  you, ' '  he  excepts 
none  whatever  as  necessary  or  useful  for  us. 
And  if  need  be,  he  should  at  once  treat  an 
erring  brother  in  such  a  way  that,  while  he 
manages  to  apply  a  remedy  to  one  afflicted 
with  perhaps  a  slight  fever,  he  may  not  by 
his  wrath  involve  himself  in  a  more  dangerous 
malady  of  blindness.  For  he  who  wants  to 
heal  another's  wound  ought  to  be  in  good 
health  and  free  from  every  affection  of  weak- 
ness himself,  lest  that  saying  of  the  gospel 
should  be  used  to  him,  "  Physician,  first  heal 
thyself;"2  and  lest,  seeing  a  mote  in  his 
brother's  eye,  he  see  not  the  beam  in  his  own 
eye,  for  how  will  he  see  to  cast  out  the  mote 
from  his  brother's  eye,  who  has  the  beam  of 
anger  in  his  own  eye  ?  3 

1  Eph.  iv.  31.        2  S.  Luke  iv.  23.       3  Cf.  S.  Matt.  vii.  3-5. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Of  the  righteous  and  unrighteous  passion  of  wrath. 

From  almost  every  cause  the  emotion  of 
wrath  boils  over,  and  blinds  the  eyes  of  the 
soul,  and,  bringing  the  deadly  beam  of  a 
worse  disease  over  the  keenness  of  our  sight, 
prevents  us  from  seeing  the  sun  of  righteous- 
ness. It  makes  no  difference  whether  gold 
plates,  or  lead,  or  what  metal  you  please,  are 
placed  over  our  eyelids,  the  value  of  the  metal 
makes  no  difference  in  our  blindness. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Of  the  only  case  in  which  anger  is  useful  to  us. 

We  have,  it  must  be  admitted,  a  use  for 
anger  excellently  implanted  in  us  for  which 
alone  it  is  useful  and  profitable  for  us  to  ad- 
mit it,  viz.,  when  we  are  indignant  and  rage 
against  the  lustful  emotions  of  our  heart,  and 
are  vexed  that  the  things  which  we  are  ashamed 
to  do  or  say  before  men  have  risen  up  in 
the  lurking  places  of  our  heart,  as  we  tremble 
at  the  presence  of  the  angels,  and  of  God 
Himself,  who  pervades  all  things  everywhere, 
and  fear  with  the  utmost  dread  the  eye  of  Him 
from  whom  the  secrets  of  our  hearts  cannot 
possibly  be  hid. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Instances  from  the  life  of  the  blessed  David  in  which  anger 
was  rightly  felt. 

And  at  any  rate  (this  is  the  case),  when  we 
are  agitated  against  this  very  anger,  because 
it  has  stolen  on  us  against  our  brother,  and 
when  in  wrath  we  expel  its  deadly  incitements, 
nor  suffer  it  to  have  a  dangerous  lurking  place 
in  the  recesses  of  our  heart.  To  bs  angry  in 
this  fashion  even  that  prophet  teaches  us  who 
had  so  completely  expelled  it  from  his  own 
feelings  that  he  would  not  retaliate  even  on 
his  enemies  and  those  delivered  by  God  into 
his  hands:  when  he  says  "Be  ye  angry  and 
sin  not."4  For  he,  when  he  had  longed  for 
water  from  the  well  of  Bethlehem,  and  had 
been  given  it  by  his  mighty  men.  who  had 
brought  it  through  the  midst  of  the  hosts  of 
the  enemy,  at  once  poured  it  .out  on  the 
ground:  and  thus  in  his  anger  extinguished 
the  delicious  feeling  of  his  desire,  and  poured 
it  out  to  the  Lord,  without  satisfying  the  long- 
ing that  he  had  expressed,  saying:  "That  be 


4  Ps.  iv.  5. 


ill 


260 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF   JOHN   CASSIAN. 


far  from  me  that  I  should  do  this!  Shall  I 
drink  the  blood  of  those  men  who  went  forth, 
on  the  danger  of  their  souls?"1  And  when 
Shimei  threw  stones  at  King  David  and  cursed 
him,  in  his  hearing,  before  everybody,  and 
Abishai,  the  son  of  Zeruiah,  the  captain  of  the 
host,  wished  to  cut  off  his  head  and  avenge 
the  insult  to  the  king,  the  blessed  David, 
moved  with  pious  wrath  against  this  dreadful 
suggestion  of  his,  and  keeping  the  due  meas- 
ure of  humility  and  a  strict  patience,  said  with 
imperturbable  gentleness,  "What  have  I  to 
do  with  you,  ye  sons  of  Zeruiah?  Let  him 
alone  that  he  may  curse.  For  the  Lord  hath 
commanded  him  to  curse  David.  And  who 
is  he  who  shall  dare  to  say,  Why  hast  thou 
done  this?  Behold  my  son,  who  came  forth 
from  my  loins,  seeks  my  life,  and  how  much 
more  this  son  of  Benjamin?  Let  him  alone, 
that  he  may  curse,  according  to  the  command 
of  the  Lord.  It  may  be  the  Lord  will  look 
upon  my  affliction,  and  return  to  me  good  for 
this  cursing  to-day."2 

CHAPTER   IX. 

Of  the  anger  which  should  be  directed  against  ourselves. 

And  some  are  commanded  to  "be  angry" 
after  a  wholesome  fashion,  but  with  our  own 
selves,  and  with  evil  thoughts  that  arise,  and 
"not  to  sin,"  viz.,  by  bringing  them  to  a  bad 
issue.  Finally,  the  next  verse  explains  this  to 
be  the  meaning  more  clearly:  "The  things  you 
say  in  your  hearts,  be  sorry  for  them  on  your 
beds:"3  i.e.,  whatever  you  think  of  in  your 
hearts  when  sudden  and  nervous  excitements 
rush  in  on  you,  correct  and  amend  with  whole- 
some sorrow,  lying  as  it  were  on  a  bed  of  rest, 
and  removing  by  the  moderating  influence  of 
counsel  all  noise  and  disturbance  of  wrath. 
Lastly,  the  blessed  Apostle,  when  he  made  use 
of  the  testimony  of  this  verse,  and  said,  "Be 
ye  angry  and  sin  iiot,"  added,  "Let  not  the 
sun  go  down  upon  your  wrath,  neither  give 
place  to  the  devil."  4  If  it  is  dangerous  for 
the  sun  of  righteousness  to  go  down  upon  our 
wrath,  and  if  when  we  are  angry  we  straight- 
way give  place  to  the  devil  in  our  hearts,  how 
is  it  that  above  he  charges  us  to  be  angry, 
saying,  "  Be  ye  angry,  and  sin  not "  ?  Does  he 
not  evidently  mean  this :  be  ye  angry  with 
your  faults  and  your  tempers,  lest,  if  you  ac- 
quiesce in  them,  Christ,  the  sun  of  righteous- 
ness, may  on  account  of  your  anger  begin  to 
go  down  on  your  darkened  minds,  and  when 
He  departs  you  may  furnish  a  place  for  the 
devil  in  your  hearts? 


1  2  Sam.  xxiii.  17. 

2  2  Sam.  xvi.  10-12. 


3  Ps.  iv.  5. 

4  Eph.  iv.  26. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Of  the  sun,  of  which  it  is  said  that  it  should  not  go  down  upon 
your  wrath. 

And  of  this  sun  God  clearly  makes  mention 
by  the  prophet,  when  He  says,  "  But  to  those 
that  fear  my  name  the  sun  of  righteousness 
shall  arise  with  healing  in  His  wings."5  And 
this  again  is  said  to  "go  down  "  at  midday  on 
sinners  and  false  prophets,  and  those  who  are 
angry,  when  the  prophet  says,  "Their  sun  is 
gone  down  at  noon."6  And  at  any  rate 
"tropically"7  the  mind,  that  is  the  vovg  or  ;. 
reason,  which  is  fairly  called  the  sun  because  f 
it  looks  over  all  the  thoughts  and  discernings 
of  the  heart,  should  not  be  put  out  by  the  sin 
of  anger:  lest  when  it  "goes  down"  the  shad- 
ows of  disturbance,  together  with  the  devil 
their  author,  fill  all  the  feelings  of  our  hearts, 
and,  overwhelmed  by  the  shadows  of  wrath, 
as  in  a  murky  night,  we  know  not  what  we 
ought  to  do.  In  this  sense  it  is  that  we  have 
brought  forward  this  passage  of  the  Apostle, 
handed  down  to  us  by  the  teaching  of  the 
elders,  because  it  was  needful,  even  at  the 
risk  of  a  somewhat  lengthy  discourse,  to  show 
how  they  felt  with  regard  to  anger,  for  they 
do  not  permit  it  even  for  a  moment  to  effect 
an  entrance  into  our  heart:  observing  with  the 
utmost  care  that  saying  of  the  gospel:  "Who- 
soever is  angry  with  his  brother  is  in  danger 
of  the  judgment."  8  But  if  it  be  lawful  to  be 
angry  up  till  sunset,  the  surfeit  of  our  wrath 
and  the  vengeance  of  our  anger  will  be  able  to 
give  full  play  to  passion  and  dangerous  ex- 
citement before  that  sun  inclines  towards  its 
setting.9 


CHAPTER  XL 

Of  those  to  whose  wrath  even  the  going  down  of  the  sun  sets 
no  limit. 

But  what  am  I  to  say  of  those  (and  I  can- 
not say  it  without  shame  on  my  own  part)  to 
whose  implacability  even  the  going  down  of 
the  sun  sets  no  bound :  but  prolonging  it  for 
several  days,  and  nourishing  rancorous  feel- 
ings against  those  against  whom  they  have 
been  excited,  they  say  in  words  that  they  are 
not  angry,  but  in  fact  and  deed  they  show  that 

5  Mai.  iv.  2. 

6  Amos  viii.  9. 

7  On  the  different  senses  of  Scripture  see  the  note  on  Conference 
XIV.  viii. 

8  S.  Matt.  v.  22. 

9  Petschenig's  text  is  as  follows:  Cetemm  si  usque  ad  occasum 
solis  licitur  sit  irasci,  ante  furor  is  satietas  et  uttrices  irce  commo- 
tionent  fioterunt  noxiiE  perturbationis  explere,  quam  sot  iste  ad 
tecum  sui  vergat  occasus.  That  of  Gazsus  has  "  ante  pcrturba- 
t tones  noxioe  fioterunt  furoris  satietatem  et  ultricis  irce  commotionem 
explere,  etc. 


BOOK   VIII. 


261 


they  are  extremely  disturbed?  For  they  do 
not  speak  to  them  pleasantly,  nor  address  them 
with  ordinary  civility,  and  they  think  that  they 
are  not  doing  wrong  in  this,  because  they  do  not 
seek  to  avenge  themselves  for  their  upset.  But 
since  they  either  do  not  dare,  or  at  any  rate 
are  not  able  to  show  their  anger  openly,  and 
give  place  to  it,  they  drive  in,  to  their  own 
detriment,  the  poison  of  anger,  and  secretly 
cherish  it  in  their  hearts,  and  silently  feed  on 
it  in  themselves;  without  shaking  off  by  an 
effort  of  mind  their  sulky  disposition,  but  di- 
gesting it  as  the  days  go  by,  and  somewhat 
mitigating  it  after  a  while. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

How  this  is  the  end  of  temper  and  anger  when  a  man  carries 
it  into  act  as  far  as  he  can. 

But  it  looks  as  if  even  this  was  not  the  end 
of  vengeance  to  every  one,  but  some  can  only 
completely  satisfy  their  wrath  or  sulkiness  if 
they  carry  out  the  impulse  of  anger  as  far  as 
they  are  able ;  and  this  we  know  to  be  the  case 
with  those  who  restrain  their  feelings,  not 
from  desire  of  calming  them,  but  simply  from 
•want  of  opportunity  of  revenge.  For  they  can 
do  nothing  more  to  those  with  whom  they  are 
angry,  except  speak  to  them  without  ordinary 
civility:  or  it  looks  as  if  anger  was  to  be 
moderated  only  in  action,  and  not  to  be  alto- 
gether rooted  out  from  its  hiding  place  in  our 
bosom :  so  that,  overwhelmed  by  its  shadows, 
we  are  unable  not  only  to  admit  the  light  of 
wholesome  counsel  and  of  knowledge,  but  also 
to  be  a  temple  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  so  long  as 
the  spirit  of  anger  dwells  in  us.  For  wrath 
that  is  nursed  in  the  heart,  although  it  may 
not  injure  men  who  stand  by,  yet  excludes  the 
splendour  of  the  radiance  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
equally  with  wrath  that  is  openly  manifested. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

That  we  should  not  retain  our  anger  even  for  an  instant. 

Or  how  can  we  think  that  the  Lord  would 
have  it  retained  even  for  an  instant,  since  He 
does  not  permit  us  to  offer  the  spiritual  sacri- 
fices of  our  prayers,  if  we  are  aware  that  an- 
other has  any  bitterness  against  us:  saying, 
"  If  then  thou  bringest  thy  gift  to  the  altar  and 
there  rememberest  that  thy  brother  hath  aught 
against  thee,  leave  there  thy  gift  at  the  altar 
and  go  thy  way;  first  be  reconciled  to  thy 
brother,  and  then  come  and  offer  thy  gift. "  * 
How  then  may  we  retain  displeasure  against 
■ — __ — _ — _ — 

1  S.  Matt.  v.  23,  24. 


our  brother,  I  will  not  say  for  several  days, 
but  even  till  the  going  down  of  the  sun,  if  we 
are  not  allowed  to  offer  our  prayers  to  God 
while  he  has  anything  against  us  ?  And  yet 
we  are  commanded  by  the  Apostle:  "Pray 
without  ceasing;"2  and  "in  every  place  lift- 
ing up  holy  hands  without  wrath  and  disput- 
ing."3 It  remains  then  either  that  we  never 
pray  at  all,  retaining  this  poison  in  our  hearts, 
and  become  guilty  in  regard  of  this  apostolic 
or  evangelic  charge,  in  which  we  are  bidden 
to  pray  everywhere  and  without  ceasing;  or 
else  if,  deceiving  ourselves,  we  venture  to 
pour  forth  our  prayers,  contrary  to  His  com- 
mand, we  must  know  that  we  are  offering  to 
God  no  prayer,  but  an  obstinate  temper  with 
a  rebellious  spirit. 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

Of  reconciliation  with  our  brother. 

And  because  we  often  spurn  the  brethren 
who  are  injured  and  saddened,  and  despise 
them,  and  say  that  they  were  not  hurt  by  any 
fault  of  ours,  the  Healer  of  souls,  who  knows 
all  secrets,  wishing  utterly  to  eradicate  all 
opportunities  of  anger  from  our  hearts,  not 
only  commands  us  to  forgive  if  we  have  been 
wronged,  and  to  be  reconciled  with  our  broth- 
ers, and  keep  no  recollection  of  wrong  or  inju- 
ries against  them,  but  He  also  gives  a  similar 
charge,  that  in  case  we  are  aware  that  they 
have  anything  against  us,  whether  justly  or 
unjustly,  we  should  leave  our  gift,  that  is, 
postpone  our  prayers,  and  hasten  first  to  offer 
satisfaction  to  them;  and  so  when  our  brother's 
cure  is  first  effected,  we  may  bring  the  offer- 
ing of  our  prayers  without  blemish.  For  the 
common  Lord  of  all  does  not  care  so  much  for 
our  homage  as  to  lose  in  one  what  He  gains  in 
another,  through  displeasure  being  allowed  to 
reign  in  us.  For  in  anyone's  loss  He  suffers 
some  loss,  who  desires  and  looks  for  the  sal- 
vation of  all  His  servants  in  one  and  the  same 
way.  And  therefore  our  prayer  will  lose  its 
effect,  if  our  brother  has  anything  against  us, 
just  as  much  as  if  we  were  cherishing  feelings 
of  bitterness  against  him  in  a  swelling  and 
wrathful  spirit. 

CHAPTER    XV. 

How  the  Old  Law  would  root  out  anger  not  only  from  the 
actions  but  from  the  thoughts. 

But  why  should  we  spend  any  more  time 
over  evangelic  and  apostolic  precepts,  when 
even  the  old  law,  which  is  thought  to  be  some- 

2  1  Thess.  v.  17.  3  1  Tim.  ii.  S. 


262 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


what  slack,  guards  against  the  same  thing, 
when  it  says,  "Thou  shalt  not  hate  thy  brother 
in  thine  heart;"  and  again,  "Be  not  mindful 
of  the  injury  of  thy  citizens;"1  and  again, 
"  The  ways  of  those  who  preserve  the  recollec- 
tion of  wrongs  are  towards  death  "  ?  2  You  see 
there  too  that  wickedness  is  restrained  not 
only  in  action,  but  also  in  the  secret  thoughts, 
since  it  is  commanded  that  hatred  be  utterly 
rooted  out  from  the  heart,  and  not  merely 
retaliation  for,  but  the  very  recollection  of,  a 
wrong  done. 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

How  useless  is  the  retirement  of  those  who  do  not  give  up 
their  bad  manners. 

Sometimes  when  we  have  been  overcome  by 
pride  or  impatience,  and  we  want  to  improve 
our  rough  and  bearish  manners,  we  complain 
that  we  require  solitude,  as  if  we  should  find 
the  virtue  of  patience  there  where  nobody  pro- 
vokes us:  and  we  apologize  for  our  careless- 
ness, and  say  that  the  reason  of  our  disturbance 
does  not  spring  from  our  own  impatience,  but 
from  the  fault  of  our  brethren.  And  while  we 
lay  the  blame  of  our  fault  on  others,  we  shall 
never  be  able  to  reach  the  goal  of  patience 
and  perfection. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

That  the  peace  of  our  heart  does  not  depend  on  another's 
will,  but  lies  in  our  own  control. 

The  chief  part  then  of  our  improvement  and 
peace  of  mind  must  not  be  made  to  depend 
on  another's  will,  which  cannot  possibly  be 
subject  to  our  authority,  but  it  lies  rather  in 
our  own  control.  And  so  the  fact  that  we  are 
not  angry  ought  not  to  result  from  another's 
perfection,  but  from  our  own  virtue,  which  is 
acquired,  not  by  somebody  else's  patience, 
but  by  our  own  long-suffering. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

Of  the  zeal  with  which  we  should  seek  the  desert,  and  of  the 
things  in  which  we  make  progress  there. 

Further,  it  is  those  who  are  perfect  and 
purified  from  all  faults  who  ought  to  seek  the 
desert,  and  when  they  have  thoroughly  exter- 
minated all  their  faults  amid  the  assembly  of 
the  brethren,  they  should  enter  it  not  by  way 
of  cowardly  flight,  but  for  the  purpose  of 
divine    contemplation,    and   with   the   desire 


1  Lev.  xix.  17,  18. 


2  Prov.  xii.2S(LXX.). 


of  deeper  insight  into  heavenly  things,  which 
can  only  be  gained  in  solitude  by  those  who 
are  perfect.  For  whatever  faults  we  bring 
with  us  uncured  into  the  desert,  we  shall  find 
to  remain  concealed  in  us  and  not  to  be  got 
rid  of.  For  just  as  when  the  character  has 
been  improved,  solitude  can  lay  open  to  it  the 
purest  contemplation,  and  reveal  the  knowl- 
edge of  spiritual  mysteries  to  its  clear  gaze, 
sd  it  generally  not  only  preserves  but  intensi- 
fies the  faults  of  those  who  have  undergone 
no  correction.  For  a  man  appears  to  himself 
to  be  patient  and  humble,  just  as  long  as  he 
comes  across  nobody  in  intercourse;  but 
he  will  presently  revert  to  his  former  nature, 
whenever  the  chance  of  any  sort  of  passion 
occurs:  I  mean  that  those  faults  will  at  once 
appear  on  the  surface  which  were  lying  hid, 
and,  like  unbridled  horses  diligently  fed  up 
during  too  long  a  time  of  idleness,  dash  forth 
from  the  barriers  the  more  eagerly  and  fiercely, 
to  the  destruction  of  their  charioteer.  For 
when  the  opportunity  for  practising  them 
among  men  is  removed,  our  faults  will  more 
and  more  increase  in  us,  unless  we  have  first 
been  purified  from  them.  And  the  mere  shadow 
of  patience,  which,  when  we  mixed  with  our 
brethren,  we  seemed  fancifully  to  possess,  at 
least  out  of  respect  for  them  and  publicity,  we 
lose  altogether  through  sloth  and  carelessness. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

An  illustration  to  help  in  forming  an  opinion  on  those  who  are 
only  patient  when  they  are  not  tried  by  any  one. 

\ 

But  it  is  like  all  poisonous  kinds  of  serpents 
or  of  wild  beasts,  which,  while  they  remain 
in  solitude  and  their  own  lairs,  are  still  not 
harmless ; 3  for  they  cannot  really  be  said  to 
be  harmless,  because  they  are  not  actually 
hurting  anybody.  For  this  results  in  their 
case,  not  from  any  feeling  of  goodness,  but 
from  the  exigencies  of  solitude,  and  when  they 
have  secured  an  opportunity  of  hurting  some 
one,  at  once  they  produce  the  poison  stored 
up  in  them,  and  show  the  ferocity  of  their 
nature.  And  so  in  the  case  of  men  who  are 
aiming  at  perfection,  it  is  not  enough  not  to 
be  angry  with  men.  For  we  recollect  that 
when  we  were  living  in  solitude  a  feeling  of 
irritation  would  creep  over  us  against  our  pen 
because  it  was  too  large  or  too  small;  against 
our  penknife  when  it  cut  badly  and  with  a 
blunt  edge  what  we  wanted  cut;  and  against 
a  flint  if  by  chance  when  we  were  rather 
late  and  hurrying  to  the  reading,  a  spark  of 
fire  flashed  out,  so  that  we  could  not  remove 


Reading  iwn  innoxia  (Petschenig). 


BOOK   VIII. 


263 


and  get  rid  of  our  perturbation  of  mind  except 
by  cursing  the  senseless  matter,  or  at  least 
the  devil.  Wherefore  for  a  method  of  perfec- 
tion it  will  not  be  of  any  use  for  there  to  be  a 
dearth  of  men  against  whom  our  anger  might 
be  roused :  since,  if  patience  has  not  already 
been  acquired,  the  feelings  of  passion  which 
still  dwell  in  our  hearts  can  equally  well 
spend  themselves  on  dumb  things  and  paltry 
objects,  and  not  allow  us  to  gain  a  continuous 
state  of  peacefulness,  or  to  be  free  from  our 
remaining  faults:  unless  perhaps  we  think 
that  some  advantage  and  a  sort  of  cure  may 
be  gained  for  our  passion  from  the  fact  that 
inanimate  and  speechless  things  cannot  pos- 
sibly reply  to  our  curses  and  rage,  nor  provoke 
our  ungovernable  temper  to  break  out  into  a 
worse  madness  of  passion. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

Of  the  way  in  which  anger  should  be  banished  according  to  the 
gospel. 

Wherefore  if  we  wish  to  gain  the  substance 
of  that  divine  reward  of  which  it  is  said, 
"Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall 
see  God,"1  we  ought  not  only  to  banish  it 
from  our  actions,  but  entirely  to  root  it  out 
from  our  inmost  soul.  For  it  will  not  be  of 
any  good  to  have  checked  anger  in  words,  and 
not  to  have  shown  it  in  deeds,  if  God,  from 
whom  the  secrets  of  the  heart  are  not  hid,  sees 
that  it  remains  in  the  secret  recesses  of  our 
bosom.  For  the  word  of  the  gospel  bids  us 
destroy  the  roots  of  our  faults  rather  than  the 
fruits;  for  these,  when  the  incitements  are  all 
removed,  will  certainly  not  put  forth  shoots 
any  more;  and  so  the  mind  will  be  able  to 
continue  in  all  patience  and  holiness,  when 
this  anger  has  been  removed,  not  from  the 
surface  of  acts  and  deeds,  but  from  the  very 
innermost  thoughts.  And,  therefore  to  avoid 
the  commission  of  murder,  anger  and  hatred  are 
cut  off,  without  which  the  crime  of  murder 
cannot  possibly  be  committed.  For  "whoso- 
ever is  angry  with  his  brother,  is  in  danger  of 
the  judgment ;  "  J  and  "  whosoever  hateth  his 
brother  is  a  murderer;"3  viz.,  because  in  his 
heart  he  desires  to  kill  him,  whose  blood  we 
know  that  he  has  certainly  not  shed  among 
men  with  his  own  hand  or  with  a  weapon ; 
yet,  owing  to  his  burst  of  anger,  he  is  declared 
to  be  a  murderer  by  God,  who  renders  to  each 
man,  not  merely  for  the  result  of  his  actions, 
but  for  his  purpose  and  desires  and  wishes, 
either  a  reward  or  a  punishment;  according 
to  that  which  He   Himself  says  through  the 


1  S.  Matt.  v.  8. 


2  lb.  ver.  22. 


3  1  John  iii.  15. 


prophet :  "  But  I  come  that  I  may  gather  them 
together  with  all  nations  and  tongues;  "  4  and 
again:5  "Their  thoughts  between  themselves 
accusing  or  also  defending  one  another,  in 
the  day  when  God  shall  judge  the  secrets  of 
men."  6 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Whether  we  ought  to  admit  the  addition  of  "  without  a 
cause,"  in  that  which  is  written  in  the  Gospel,  "whosoever 
is  angry  with  his  brother,"  etc. 

But  you  should  know  that  in  this,  which  is 
found  in  many  copies,  "  Whosoever  is  angry 
with  his  brother  without  a  cause,  is  in  danger 
of  the  judgment,"7  the  words  "without  a 
cause "  are  superfluous,  and  were  added  by 
those  who  did  not  think  that  anger  for  just 
causes  was  to  be  banished :  since  certainly 
nobody,  however  unreasonably  he  is  disturbed, 
would  say  that  he  was  angry  without  a  cause. 
Wherefore  it  appears  to  have  been  added 
by  those  who  did  not  understand  the  drift  of 
Scripture,  which  intended  altogether  to  ban- 
ish the  incentive  to  anger,  and  to  reserve  no 
occasion  whatever  for  indignation;  lest  while 
we  were  commanded  to  be  angry  with  a  cause, 
an  opportunity  for  being  angry  without  a  cause 
might  occur  to  us.  For  the  end  and  aim  of 
patience  consists,  not  in  being  angry  with  a 
good  reason,  but  in  not  being  angry  at  all. 
Although  I  know  that  by  some  this  very  ex- 
pression, "without  a  cause,"  is  taken  to  mean 
that  he  is  angry  without  a  cause  who  when 
he  is  angered  is  not  allowed  to  seek  for  ven- 
geance. But  it  is  better  so  to  take  it  as  we 
find  it  written  in  many  modern  copies  and  all 
the  ancient  ones. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

The  remedies  by  which  we  can  root  out  anger  from  our  hearts. 

Wherefore  the  athlete  of  Christ  who  strives 
lawfully  ought  thoroughly  to  root  out  the 
feeling  of  wrath.  And  it  will  be  a  sure  rem- 
edy for  this  disease,  if  in  the  first  place  we 
make  up  our  mind  that  we  ought  never  to  be 
angry  at  all,  whether  for  good  or  bad  reasons  : 
as  we  know  that  we  shall  at  once  lose  the 
light  of  discernment,  and  the  security  of  good 
counsel,  and  our  very  uprightness,  and  the 
temperate  character  of   righteousness,    if  the 


4  Isaiah  lxvi.  18. 

5  Et  rursum  (Petschenig):  et  Apostolus  (Gazseus). 

6  Rom.  ii.  15,  16. 

7  S.  Matt.  v.  22.  The  word  Wk>7  is  said  by  Westcott  and' Host 
to  be  "  Western  and  Syrian."  It  is  wanting  in  H,  B,  Origen,  and 
was  not  admitted  by  Jerome  in  the  Vulgate. 


264 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF  JOHN    CASSIAN. 


main  light  of  our  heart  has  been  darkened  by 
its  shadows :  next,  that  the  purity  of  our  soul 
will  presently  be  clouded,  and  that  it  cannot 
possibly  be  made  a  temple  for  the  Holy  Ghost 
while  the  spirit  of  anger  resides  in  us;  lastly, 
that  we  should  consider  that  we  ought  never 
to  pray,  nor  pour  out  our  prayer  to  God, 
while  we  are  angry.  And  above  all,  having 
before   our   eyes  the  uncertain  condition  of 


mankind,  we  should  realize  daily  that 
we  are  soon  to  depart  from  the  body, 
and  that  our  continence  and  chastity,  our 
renunciation  of  all  our  possessions,  our 
contempt  of  wealth,  our  efforts  in  fastings 
and  vigils  will  not  help  us  at  all,  if  solely  on 
account  of  anger  and  hatred  eternal  pun- 
ishments are  awarded  to  us  by  the  judge  of 
the  world. 


BOOK    IX. 


OF    THE    SPIRIT    OF   DEJECTION. 


CHAPTER    I. 


How  our  fifth  combat  is  against  the  spirit  of  dejection,  and  of 
the  harm  which  it  inflicts  upon  the  soul. 


In  our  fifth  combat  we  have  to  resist  the 
pangs  of  gnawing  dejection:  for  if  this,  through 
separate  attacks  made  at  random,  and  by  hap- 
hazard and  casual  changes,  has  secured  an 
opportunity  of  gaining  possession  of  our  mind, 
it  keeps  us  back  at  all  times  from  all  insight 
in  divine  contemplation,  and  utterly  ruins 
and  depresses  the  mind  that  has  fallen  away 
from  its  complete  state  of  purity.  It  does  not 
allow  it  to  say  its  prayers  with  its  usual  glad- 
ness of  heart,  nor  permit  it  to  rely  on  the 
comfort  of  reading  the  sacred  writings,  nor 
suffer  it  to  be  quiet  and  gentle  with  the  breth- 
ren; it  makes  it  impatient  and  rough  in  all 
the  duties  of  work  and  devotion :  and,  as  all 
wholesome  counsel  is  lost,  and  steadfastness 
of  heart  destroyed,  it  makes  the  feelings 
almost  mad  and  drunk,  and  crushes  and  over- 
whelms them  with  penal  despair. 


CHAPTER   II. 

Of  the  care  with  which  the  malady  of  dejection  must  be  healed. 

Wherefore  if  we  are  anxious  to  exert  our- 
selves lawfully  in  the  struggle  of  our  spiritual 
combat  we  ought  with  no  less  care  to  set  about 
healing  this  malady  also.  For  "as  the  moth 
injures  the  garment,  and  the  worm  the  wood, 
so  dejection  the  heart  of  man."  l  With  suffi- 
cient clearness  and  appropriateness  has  the 


1  Prov.  xxv.  20  (LXX.). 


Divine  Spirit  expressed  the  force  of  this  dan- 
gerous and  most  injurious  fault. 


CHAPTER  III. 

To  what  the  soul  may  be  compared  which  is  a  prey  to  the 
attacks  of  dejection. 

For  the  garment  that  is  moth-eaten  has  no 
longer  any  commercial  value  or  good  use  to 
which  it  can  be  put;  and  in  the  same  way2 
the  wood  that  is  worm-eaten  is  no  longer  worth 
anything  for  ornamenting  even  an  ordinary 
building,  but  is  destined  to  be  burnt  in  the 
fire.  So  therefore  the  soul  also  which  is  a 
prey  to  the  attacks  of  gnawing  dejection  will 
be  useless  for  that  priestly  garment  which, 
according  to  the  prophecy  of  the  holy  David, 
the  ointment  of  the  Holy  Spirit  coming  down 
from  heaven,  first  on  Aaron's  beard,  then  on 
his  skirts,  is  wont  to  assume:  as  it  is  said, 
"It  is  like  the  ointment  upon  the  head  which 
ran  down  upon  Aaron's  beard,  which  ran  down 
to  the  skirts  of  his  clothing.3  Nor  can  it  have 
anything  to  do  with  the  building  or  ornamen- 
tation of  that  spiritual  temple  of  which  Paul 
as  a  wise  master  builder  laid  the  foundations, 
saying,  "Ye  are  the  temple  of  God,  and  the 
Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you:"4  and  what 
the  beams  of  this  are  like  the  bride  tells  us  in 
the  Song  of  Songs :  "  Our  rafters  are  of  cy- 
press :  the  beams  of  our  houses  are  of  cedar."  6 
And  therefore  those  sorts  of  wood  are  chosen 
for  the  temple  of  God  which  are  fragrant  and 
not  liable  to  rot,  and  which  are  not  subject  to 
decay  from  age  nor  to  be  worm-eaten. 


2  ToticUm  is  used  here  by  Cassiau  for  itidem,  as  in  III.  ix. 

3  Ps.  cxxxii.  (cxxxiii.)  2. 

4  1  Cor.  iii.  16 ;  vi.  16. 

5  Cant.  i.  16  (LXX.). 


BOOK   IX. 


265 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Whence  and  in  what  way  dejection  arises. 

But  sometimes  it  is  found  to  result  from 
the  fault  of  previous  anger,  or  to  spring  from 
the  desire  of  some  gain  which  has  not  been 
realized,  when  a  man  has  found  that  he  has 
failed  in  his  hope  of  securing  those  things 
which  he  had  planned.  But  sometimes  with- 
out any  apparent  reason  for  our  being  driven 
to  fall  into  this  misfortune,  we  are  by  the 
instigation  of  our  crafty  enemy  suddenly  de- 
pressed with  so  great  a  gloom  that  we  cannot 
receive  with  ordinary  civility  the  visits  of 
those  who  are  near  and  dear  to  us ;  and  what- 
ever subject  of  conversation  is  started  by  them, 
we  regard  it  as  ill-timed  and  out  of  place ;  and 
we  can  give  them  no  civil  answer,  as  the  gall 
of  bitterness  is  in  possession  of  every  corner  of 
our  heart. 

CHAPTER   V. 

That  disturbances  are  caused  in  us  not  by  the  faults  of  other 
people,  but  by  our  own. 

Whence  it  is  clearly  proved  that  the  pains 
of  disturbances  are  not  always  caused  in  us 
by  other  people's  faults,  but  rather  by  our 
own,  as  we  have  stored  up  in  ourselves  the 
causes  of  offence,  and  the  seeds  of  faults, 
which,  as  soon  as  a  shower  of  temptation 
waters  our  soul,  at  once  burst  forth  into  shoots 
and  fruits. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

That  no  one  comes  to  grief  by  a  sudden  fall,  but  is  destroyed 
by  falling  through  a  long  course  of  carelessness.1 

For  no  one  is  ever  driven  to  sin  by  being 
provoked  through  another's  fault,  unless  he 
has  the  fuel  of  evil  stored  up  in  his  own  heart. 
Nor  should  we  imagine  that  a  man  has  been 
deceived  suddenly  when  he  has  looked  on  a 
woman  and  fallen  into  the  abyss  of  shameful 
lust :  but  rather  that,  owing  to  the  opportunity 
of  looking  on  her,  the  symptoms  of  disease 
which  were  hidden  and  concealed  in  his  in- 
most soul  have  been  brought  to  the  surface. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

That  we  ought  not  to  give  up  intercourse  with  our  brethren 
in  order  to  seek  after  perfection,  but  should  rather  constantly 
cultivate  the  virtue  of  patience. 

And  so  God,  the  creator  of  all  things,  hav- 
ing regard  above  everything  to  the  amendment 
of  His  own  work,  and  because  the  roots  and 

1  Incuriam  (Petschenig) :  Injuriam  (Gazaeus). 


causes  of  our  falls  are  found  not  in  others,  but 
in  ourselves,  commands  that  we  should  not 
give  up  intercourse  with  our  brethren,  nor 
avoid  those  who  we  think  have  been  hurt  by 
us,  or  by  whom  we  have  been  offended,  but 
bids  us  pacify  them,  knowing  that  perfection 
of  heart  is  not  secured  by  separating  from  men 
so  much  as  by  the  virtue  of  patience.  Which 
when  it  is  securely  held,  as  it  can  keep  us  at 
peace  even  with  those  who  hate  peace,  so,  if 
it  has  not  been  acquired,  it  makes  us  perpet- 
ually differ  from  those  who  are  perfect  and 
better  than  we  are:  for  opportunities  for  dis- 
turbance, on  account  of  which  we  are  eager  to 
get  away  from  those  with  whom  we  are  con-* 
nected,  will  not  be  wanting  so  long  as  we  are 
living  among  men;  and  therefore  we  shall  not 
escape  altogether,  but  only  change  the  causes 
of  dejection  on  account  of  which  we  separated 
from  our  former  friends. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

That  if  we  have  improved  our  character  it  is  possible  for  us  to 
get  on  with  everybody. 

We  must  then  do  our  best  to  endeavour  to 
amend  our  faults  and  correct  our  manners. 
And  if  we  succeed  in  correcting  them  we  shall 
certainly  be  at  peace,  I  will  not  say  with  men, 
but  even  with  beasts  and  the  brute  creation, 
according  to  what  is  said  in  the  book  of  the 
blessed  Job:  "For  the  beasts  of  the  field  will 
be  at  peace  with  thee;  "  2  for  we  shall  not  fear 
offences  coming  from  without,  nor  will  any 
occasion  of  falling  trouble  us  from  outside,  if 
the  roots  of  such  are  not  admitted  and  im- 
planted within  in  our  own  selves:  for  "they 
have  great  peace  who  love  thy  law,  O  God; 
and  they  have  no  occasion  of  falling."  3 


CHAPTER    IX. 


Of  another  sort  of  dejection  which  produces  despair  of 
salvation. 


There  is,  too,  another  still  more  objection- 
able sort  of  dejection,  which  produces  in  the 
guilty  soul  no  amendment  of  life  or  correction 
of  faults,  but  the  most  destructive  despair : 
which  did  not  make  Cain  repent  after  the 
murder  of  his  brother,  or  Judas,  after  the  be- 
trayal, hasten  to  relieve  himself  by  making 
amends,  but  drove  him  to  hang  himself  in 
despair. 


2  Job  v.  23. 


3  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix. )  165. 


266 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Of  the  only  thing  in  which  dejection  is  useful  to  us. 

And  so  we  must  see  that  dejection  is  only 
useful  to  us  in  one  case,  when  we  yield  to  it 
either  in  penitence  for  sin,  or  through  being 
inflamed  with  the  desire  of  perfection,  or  the 
contemplation  of  future  blessedness.  And  of 
this  the  blessed  Apostle  says:  "The  sorrow 
which  is  according  to  God  worketh  repentance 
steadfast  unto  salvation :  but  the  sorrow  of  the 
world  worketh  death. "  x 


CHAPTER   XL 

How  we  can  decide  what  is  useful  and  the  sorrow  according  to 
God,  and  what  is  devilish  and  deadly. 

But  that  dejection  and  sorrow  which  "work- 
eth repentance  steadfast  unto  salvation "  is 
obedient,  civil,  humble,  kindly,  gentle,  and 
patient,  as  it  springs  from  the  love  of  God, 
and  unweariedly  extends  itself  from  desire  of 
perfection  to  every  bodily  grief  and  sorrow  of 
spirit;  and  somehow  or  other  rejoicing  and 
feeding  on  hope  of  its  own  profit  preserves  all 
the  gentleness  of  courtesy  and  forbearance,  as 
it  has  in  itself  all  the  fruits  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
of  which  the  same  Apostle  gives  the  list :  "  But 
the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  for- 
bearance, goodness,  benignity,  faith,  mildness, 
aodesty."  2  But  the  other  kind  is  rough, 
impatient,  hard,  full  of  rancour  and  useless 
grief  and  penal  despair,  and  breaks  down  the 
man  on  whom  it  has  fastened,  and  hinders 
him  from  energy  and  wholesome  sorrow,  as  it 
is  unreasonable,  and  not  only  hampers  the 
efficacy  of  his  prayers,  but  actually  destroys 


all  those  fruits  of  the  Spirit  of  which  we  spoke, 
which  that  other  sorrow  knows  how  to  pro- 
duce. 

CHAPTER   XII.- 

That  except  that  wholesome  sorrow,  which  springs  up  in  three 
ways,  all  sorrow  and  dejection  should  be  resisted  as  hurtful. 

Wherefore  except  that  sorrow  which  is 
endured  either  for  the  sake  of  saving  peni- 
tence, or  for  the  sake  of  aiming  at  perfection, 
or  for  the  desire  of  the  future,  all  sorrow  and 
dejection  must  equally  be  resisted,  as  belong- 
ing to  this  world,  and  being  that  which  "  work- 
eth death, "  and  must  be  entirely  expelled  from 
our  hearts  like  the  spirit  of  fornication  and 
covetousness  and  anger. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

The  means  by  which  we  can  root  out  dejection  from  our  hearts. 

We  should  then  be  able  to  expel  this  most 
injurious  passion  from  our  hearts,  so  that  by 
spiritual  meditation  we  may  keep  our  mind 
constantly  occupied  with  hope  of  the  future 
and  contemplation  of  the  promised  blessed- 
ness. For  in  this  way  we  shall  be  able  to 
get  the  better  of  all  those  sorts  of  dejection, 
whether  those  which  flow  from  previous  anger 
or  those  which  come  to  us  from  disappoint- 
ment of  gain,  or  from  some  loss,  or  those 
which  spring  from  a  wrong  done  to  us,  or  those 
which  arise  from  an  unreasonable  disturbance 
of  mind,  or  those  which  bring  on  us  a  deadly 
despair,  if,  ever  joyful  with  an  insight  into 
things  eternal  and  future,  and  continuing 
immovable,  we  are  not  depressed  by  present 
accidents,  or  over-elated  by  prosperity,  but 
look  on  each  condition  as  uncertain  and  likely 
soon  to  pass  away. 


BOOK  X. 


OF  THE   SPIRIT  OF  ACCIDIE? 


CHAPTER   I. 

How  our  sixth  combat  is  against  the  spirit  of  accidie,  and  what 
its  character  is. 

Our  sixth  combat  is  with  what  the  Greeks 
call  uy.ijdia,  which  we  may  term  weariness  or 
distress  of  heart.  This  is  akin  to  dejection, 
and  is  especially  trying  to  solitaries,  and  a 
dangerous  and  frequent  foe  to  dwellers  in  the 

1  2  Cor.  vii.  io,       2  Gal.  v.  22,  23.      3  See  the  note  on  Bk.  V.  c.  i. 


desert;  and  especially  disturbing  to  a  monk 
about  the  sixth  hour,  like  some  fever  which 
seizes  him  at  stated  times,  bringing  the  burn- 
ing heat  of  its  attacks  on  the  sick  man  at 
usual  and  regular  hours.  Lastly,  there  are 
some  of  the  elders  who  declare  that  this  is 
the  "midday  demon"  spoken  of  in  the  nine- 
tieth Psalm.4 


4  Ps.  xc.  (xci.)  6.,  where  the  Latin  "  et  dsemonio  meridiano  " 
follows  the  LXX.  KaX  Saifioviou  ^ecrrj^^pivoii,  instead  of  "  the  de- 
struction that  wasteth  at  noonday." 


BOOK   X. 


267 


CHAPTER    II. 

A  description  of  accidie,  and  the  way  in  which  it  creeps  over 
the  heart  of  a  monk,  and  the  injury  it  inflicts  on  the  soul. 

And  when  this  has  taken  possession  of 
some  unhappy  soul,  it  produces  dislike  of  the 
place,  disgust  with  the  cell,  and  disdain  and 
contempt  of  the  brethren  who  dwell  with  him 
or  at  a  little  distance,  as  if  they  were  careless 
or  unspiritual.  It  also  makes  the  man  lazy 
and  sluggish  about  all  manner  of  work  which 
has  to  be  done  within  the  enclosure  of  his 
dormitory.  It  does  not  suffer  him  to  stay  in 
his  cell,  or  to  take  any  pains  about  reading, 
and  he  often  groans  because  he  can  do  no 
good  while  he  stays  there,  and  complains  and 
sighs  because  he  can  bear  no  spiritual  fruit 
so  long  as  he  is  joined  to  that  society;  and  he 
complains  that  he  is  cut  off  from  spiritual 
gain,  and  is  of  no  use  in  the  place,  as  if  he 
were  one  who,  though  he  could  govern  others 
and  be  useful  to  a  great  number  of  people, 
yet  was  edifying  none,  nor  profiting  any  one 
by  his  teaching  and  doctrine.  He  cries  up 
distant  monasteries  and  those  which  are  a 
long  way  off,  and  describes  such  places  as 
more  profitable  and  better  suited  for  salvation; 
and  besides  this  he  paints  the  intercourse 
with  the  brethren  there  as  sweet  and  full  of 
spiritual  life.  On  the  other  hand,  he  says 
that  everything  about  him  is  rough,  and  not 
only  that  there  is  nothing  edifying  among  the 
brethren  who  are  stopping  there,  but  also  that 
even  food  for  the  body  cannot  be  procured 
without  great  difficulty.  Lastly  he  fancies 
that  he  will  never  be  well  while  he  stays  in 
that  place,  unless  he  leaves  his  cell  (in  which 
he  is  sure  to  die  if  he  stops  in  it  any  longer) 
and  takes  himself  off  from  thence  as  quickly 
as  possible.  Then  the  fifth  or  sixth  hour 
brings  him  such  bodily  weariness  and  longing 
for  food  that  he  seems  to  himself  worn  out 
and  wearied  as  if  with  a  long  journey,  or  some 
very  heavy  work,  or  as  if  he  had  put  off  taking 
food  during  a  fast  of  two  or  three  days.  Then 
besides  this  he  looks  about  anxiously  this  way 
and  that,  and  sighs  that  none  of  the  brethren 
come  to  see  him,  and  often  goes  in  and  out  of 
his  cell,  and  frequently  gazes  up  at  the  sun, 
as  if  it  was  too  slow  in  setting,  and  so  a  kind 
of  unreasonable  confusion  of  mind  takes  pos- 
session of  him  like  some  foul  darkness,1  and 
makes  him  idle  and  useless  for  every  spiritual 
work,  so  that  he  imagines  that  no  cure  for  so 
terrible  an  attack  can  be  found  in  anything 
except  visiting  some  one  of  the  brethren,  or 
in  the  solace  of  sleep  alone.    Then  the  disease 


1  Velut  tcetra  suppletur  caligine  (Petschenig) ;  the  text  of  Ga- 
zseus  reads  terra  for  tcetra. 


suggests  that  he  ought  to  show  courteous  and 
friendly  hospitalities  to  the  brethren,  and  pay 
visits  to  the  sick,  whether  near  at  hand  or  far 
off.  He  talks  too  about  some  dutiful  and 
religious  offices;  that  those  kinsfolk  ought  to 
be  inquired  after,  and  that  he  ought  to  go  and 
see  them  oftener;  that  it  would  be  a  real  work 
of  piety  to  go  more  frequently  to  visit  that 
religious  woman,  devoted  to  the  service  of 
God,  who  is  deprived  of  all  support  of  kindred ; 
and  that  it  would  be  a  most  excellent  thing  to 
get  what  is  needful  for  her  who  is  neglected 
and  despised  by  her  own  kinsfolk ;  and  that 
he  ought  piously  to  devote  his  time  to  these 
things  instead  of  staying  uselessly  and  with 
no  profit  in  his  cell. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Of  the  different  ways  in  which  accidie  overcomes  a  monk. 

And  so  the  wretched  soul,  embarrassed  by 
such  contrivances  of  the  enemy,  is  disturbed, 
until,  worn  out  by  the  spirit  of  accidie,  as  by 
some  strong  battering  ram,  it  either  learns  to 
sink  into  slumber,  or,  driven  out  from  the 
confinement  of  its  cell,  accustoms  itself  to 
seek  for  consolation  under  these  attacks  in 
visiting  some  brother,  only  to  be  afterwards 
weakened  the  more  by  this  remedy  which  it 
seeks  for  the  present.  For  more  frequently 
and  more  severely  will  the  enemy  attack  one 
who,  when  the  battle  is  joined,  will  as  he  well 
knows  immediately  turn  his  back,  and  whom  he 
sees  to  look  for  safety  neither  in  victory  nor 
in  fighting  but  in  flight:  until  little  by  little 
he  is  drawn  away  from  his  cell,  and  begins  to 
forget  the  object  of  his  profession,  which  is 
nothing  but  meditation  and  contemplation  of 
that  divine  purity  which  excels  all  things,  and 
which  can  only  be  gained  by  silence  and  con- 
tinually remaining  in  the  cell,  and  by  medita- 
tion, and  so  the  soldier  of  Christ  becomes  a 
runaway  from  His  service,  and  a  deserter,  and 
"  entangles  himself  in  secular  business,"  with- 
out at  all  pleasing  Him  to  whom  he  engaged 
himself.2 

CHAPTER   IV. 

How  accidie  hinders  the  mind  from  all  contemplation  of  the 
virtues. 

All  the  inconveniences  of  this  disease  are 
admirably  expressed  by  David  in  a  single 
verse,  where  he  says,  "  My  soul  slept  from 
weariness,"3   that    is,    from    accidie.      Quite 


2  2  Tim.  ii.  4. 

3  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  28,  where  the  LXX.  has  kvxxna^tv  rj  4/vXV 
jlcou  airb  aK7)5tas. 


268 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


rightly  does  he  say,  not  that  his  body,  but  that 
his  soul  slept.  For  in  truth  the  soul  which 
is  wounded  by  the  shaft  of  this  passion  does 
sleep,  as  regards  all  contemplation  of  the  vir- 
,  tues  and  insight  of  the  spiritual  senses. 


CHAPTER   V. 

How  the  attack  of  accidie  is  twofold. 

And  so  the  true  Christian  athlete  who  de- 
sires to  strive  lawfully  in  the  lists  of  perfec- 
tion, should  hasten  to  expel  this  disease  also 
trom  the  recesses  of  his  soul;  and  should 
strive  against  this  most  evil  spirit  of  accidie 
in  both  directions,  so  that  he  may  neither  fall 
stricken  through  by  the  shaft  of  slumber,  nor 
be  driven  out  from  the  monastic  cloister,  even 
though  under  some  pious  excuse  or  pretext, 
and  depart  as  a  runaway. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

How  injurious  are  the  effects  of  accidie. 

And  whenever  it  begins  in  any  degree  to 
overcome  any  one,  it  either  makes  him  stay  in 
his  cell  idle  and  lazy,  without  making  any 
spiritual  progress,  or  it  drives  him  out  from 
thence  and  makes  him  restless  and  a  wan- 
derer, and  indolent  in  the  matter  of  all  kinds 
of  work,  and  it  makes  him  continually  go 
round  the  cells  of  the  brethren  and  the  mon- 
asteries, with  an  eye  to  nothing  but  this;  viz., 
where  or  with  what  excuse  he  can  presently 
procure  some  refreshment.  For  the  mind  of 
an  idler  cannot  think  of  anything  but  food 
and  the  belly,  until  the  society  of  some  man 
or  woman,  equally  cold  and  indifferent,  is 
secured,  and  it  loses  itself  in  their  affairs  and 
business,  and  is  thus  little  by  little  ensnared 
by  dangerous  occupations,  so  that,  just  as  if 
it  were  bound  up  in  the  coils  of  a  serpent,  it 
can  never  disentangle  itself  again  and  return 
to  the  perfection  of  its  former  profession. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Testimonies  from  the  Apostle  concerning  the  spirit  of  accidie. 

The  blessed  Apostle,  like  a  true  and  spir- 
itual physician,  either  seeing  this  disease, 
which  springs  from  the  spirit  of  accidie,  al- 
ready creeping  in,  or  foreseeing,  through  the 
revelation  of  the  .Holy  Spirit,  that  it  would 
arise  among  monks,  is  quick  to  anticipate  it 
by  the  healing  medicines  of   his  directions. 


For  in  writing  to  the  Thessalonians,  and  at 
first,  like  a  skilful   and  excellent  physician, 
applying  to  the  infirmity  of  his  patients  the 
soothing  and  gentle  remedy  of  his  words,  and 
beginning  with  charity,  and  praising  them  in 
that  point,  that 1  this  deadly  wound,  having 
been  treated  with  a  milder  remedy,  might  lose 
its  angry  festering  and  more  easily  bear  severer 
treatment,  he  says  :   "  But  concerning  brotherly 
charity  ye  have  no  need  that  I  write  to  you : 
for  you  yourselves  are  taught  of  God  to  love 
one  another.     For  this  ye  do  toward  all  the 
brethren  in  the  whole  of  Macedonia."12     He 
first  began  with  the  soothing  application  of 
praise,  and  made  their  ears  submissive  and 
ready  for  the  remedy  of  the  healing   words. 
Then  he  proceeds :  "  But  we  ask  you,  brethren, 
to  abound  more."     Thus  far  he  soothes  them 
with  kind  and  gentle  words;  for  fear  lest  he 
should  find  them  not  yet  prepared  to  receive 
their  perfect  cure.     Why   is  it  that  you  ask, 
O  Apostle,    that  they  may  abound  more    in 
charity,   of  which  you  had  said  above,  "  But 
concerning  brotherly  charity  we  have  no  need 
to  write  to  you  "  ?     And  why  is  it  necessary 
that  you  should  say  to  them:  "But  we   ask 
you  to  abound  more,"  when  they  did  not  need 
to  be  written  to  at  all  on  this  matter?  especially 
as  you  add  the  reason  why  they  do  not  need 
it,    saying,   "  For  you  yourselves  have   been 
taught  of   God  to   love  one  another."     And 
you  add  a  third  thing  still  more  important: 
that  not  only  have  they  been  taught  of  God, 
but  also  that  they  fulfil   in  deed  that  which 
they  are  taught.     "For  ye  do  this,"  he  says, 
not  to  one  or  two,  but  "to  all  the  brethren; " 
and  not  to  your  own  citizens  and  friends  only, 
but  "  in  the  whole  of  Macedonia."     Tell  us 
then,  I  pray,  why  it  is  that  you  so  particularly 
begin  with   this.      Again  he  proceeds,   "But 
we  ask  you,  brethren,  to  abound  the  more." 
And  with  difficulty  at  last  he  breaks  out   into 
that  at  which  he  was  driving  before:    "and 
that  ye  take  pains  to  be  quiet."     He  gave  the 
first  aim.     Then  he  adds  a  second,  "and  to 
do  your  own  business;  "  and  a  third  as  well: 
"and  work  with  your  own  hands,  as  we  com- 
manded you ;  "  a  fourth  :   "  and  to  walk  hon- 
estly towards  those  that  are  without ;  "  a  fifth : 
"and  to  covet  no  man's  goods."     Lo;. we  can 
see  through  that  hesitation,  which  made  him 
with  these  preludes  put  off  uttering  what  his 
mind  was  full  of:   "And  that  ye  take  pains  to 
be  quiet;"  i.e.,  that  you  stop  in  your  cells,  and 
be  not  disturbed  by  rumours,  which  generally 
spring  from  the  wishes    and   gossip  of    idle 
persons,    and   so   yourselves   disturb   others. 

1  Qtiottsque  is  used  as  equivalent  to  donee,  again  in  Conf.  XXIII. 
xii. 

2  i  Thess.  iv.  9,  10. 


BOOK   X. 


269 


And,  "to  do  your  own  business,"  you  should 
not  want  to  inquire  curiously  of  the  world's 
actions,  or,  examining  the  lives  of  others, 
want  to  spend  your  strength,  not  on  bettering 
yourselves  and  aiming  at  virtue,  but  on  depre- 
ciating your  brethren.  "  And  work  with  your 
own  hands,  as  we  charged  you ;  "  to  secure  that 
which  he  had  warned  them  above  not  to  do ; 
i.e.,  that  they  should  not  be  restless  and 
anxious  about  other  people's  affairs,  nor  walk 
dishonestly  towards  those  without,  nor  covet 
another  man's  goods,  he  now  adds  and  says, 
"  and  work  with  your  own  hands,  as  we  charged 
you."  For  he  lias  clearly  shown  that  leisure 
is  the  reason  why  those  things  were  done  which 
he  blamed  above.  For  no  one  can  be  restless 
or  anxious  about  other  people's  affairs,  but 
one  who  is  not  satisfied  to  apply  himself  to 
the  work  of  his  own  hands.  He  adds  also 
a  fourth  evil,  which  springs  also  from  this 
leisure,  i.e.,  that  they  should  not  walk  dis- 
honestly :  when  he  says :  "  And  that  ye  walk 
honestly  towards  those  without."  He  cannot 
possibly  walk  honestly,  even  among  those  who 
are  men  of  this  world,  who  is  not  content  to 
cling  to  the  seclusion  of  his  cell  and  the 
work  of  his  own  hands ;  but  he  is  sure  to  be 
dishonest,  while  he  seeks  his  needful  food; 
and  to  take  pains  to  flatter,  to  follow  up  news 
and  gossip,  to  seek  for  opportunities  for  chat- 
tering and  stories  by  means  of  which  he  may 
gain  a  footing  and  obtain  an  entrance  into  the 
houses  of  others.  "And  that  you  should  not 
covet  another  man's  goods."  He  is  sure  to 
look  with  envious  eyes  on  another's  gifts  and 
boons,  who  does  not  care  to  secure  sufficient 
for  his  daily  food  by  the  dutiful  and  peaceful 
labour  of  his  hands.  You  see  what  conditions, 
and  how  serious  and  shameful  ones,  spring 
solely  from  the  malady  of  leisure.  Lastly, 
those  very  people,  whom  in  his  first  Epistle 
he  had  treated  with  the  gentle  application 
of  his  words,  in  his  second  Epistle  he  en- 
deavours to  heal  with  severer  and  sterner 
remedies,  as  those  who  had  not  profited  by 
more  gentle  treatment;  and  he  no  longer 
applies  the  treatment  of  gentle  words,  no  mild 
and  kindly  expressions,  as  these,  "  But  we 
ask  you,  brethren,"  but  "We  adjure  you,  breth- 
ren, in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
that  ye  withdraw  from  every  brother  that 
walketh  disorderly."1  There  he  asks;  here 
he  adjures.  There  is  the  kindness  of  one 
who  is  persuading;  here  the  sternness  of  one 
protesting  and  threatening.  "We  adjure  you, 
brethren :  "  because,  when  ve  first  asked  you, 
you  scorned  to  listen;  now  at  least  obey  our 
threats.      And  this  adjuration  he  renders  ter- 

1  2  Thess.  iii.  6. 


rible,  not  by  his  bare  word,  but  by  the  impre- 
cation of  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ: 
for  fear  lest  they  might  again  scorn  it,  as 
merely  man's  word,  and  think  that  it  was  not 
of  much  importance.  And  forthwith,  like  a 
well-skilled  physician  with  festering  limbs,  to 
which  he  could  not  apply  the  remedy  of  a  mild 
treatment,  he  tries  to  cure  by  an  incision  with 
a  spiritual  knife,  saying,  "that  ye  withdraw 
yourselves  from  every  brother  that  walketh 
disorderly,  and  not  according  to  the  tradition 
which  ye  received  of  us."  And  so  he  bids 
them  withdraw  from  those  who  will  not  make 
time  for  work,  and  to  cut  them  off  like  limbs 
tainted  with  the  festering  sores  of  leisure :  lest 
the  malady  of  idleness,  like  some  deadly  con- 
tagion, might  infect  even  the  healthy  portion 
of  their  limbs,  by  the  gradual  advance  of  in- 
fection. And  when  he  is  going  to  speak  of 
those  who  will  not  work  with  their  own  hands 
and  eat  their  bread  in  quietness,  from  whom 
he  urges  them  to  withdraw,  hear  with  what 
reproaches  he  brands  them  at  starting.  First 
he  calls  them  "disorderly,"  and  "not  walking 
according  to  the  tradition."  In  other  words, 
he  stigmatizes  them  as  obstinate,  since  they 
will  not  walk  according  to  his  appointment; 
and  "dishonest,"  i.e.,  not  keeping  to  the  right 
and  proper  times  for  going  out,  and  visiting, 
and  talking.  For  a  disorderly  person  is  sure 
to  be  subject  to  all  those  faults.  "And  not 
according  to  the  tradition  which  they  received 
from  us."  And  in  this  he  stamps  them  as 
in  some  sort  rebellious,  and  despisers,  who 
scorned  to  keep  the  tradition  which  they  had 
received  from  him,  and  would  not  follow  that 
which  they  not  only  remembered  that  the 
master  had  taught  in  word,  but  which  they 
knew  that  he  had  performed  in  deed.  "  For 
you  yourselves  know  how  ye  ought  to  be  fol- 
lowers of  us."  He  heaps  up  an  immense  pile 
of  censure  when  he  asserts  that  they  did  not 
observe  that  which  was  still  in  their  memory, 
and  which  not  only  had  they  learned  by  verbal 
instruction,  but  also  had  received  by  the  in- 
citement of  his  example  in  working. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

That  he  is  sure  to  be  restless  who  will  not  be  content  with  the 
work  of  his  own  hands. 

"  Because  we  were  not  restless  among  you." 
When  he  wants  to  prove  by  the  practice  of 
work  that  he  was  not  restless  among  them,  he 
fully  shows  that  those  who  will  not  work  are 
always  restless,  owing  to  the  fault  of  idleness. 
"  Nor  did  we  eat  any  man's  bread  for  nought." 
By  each  expression  the  teacher  of  the  Gentiles 


270 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF   JOHN   CASSIAN. 


advances  a  step  in  the  rebuke.1  The  preacher 
of  the  gospel  says  that  he  has  not  eaten  any 
man's  bread  for  nought,  as  he  knows  that  the 
Lord  commanded  that  "they  who  preach  the 
gospel  should  live  of  the  gospel :  "  2  and  again, 
"The  labourer  is  worthy  of  his  meat."  3  And 
so  if  he  who  preached  the  gospel,  performing 
a  work  so  lofty  and  spiritual,  did  not  venture 
in  reliance  on  the  Lord's  command  to  eat  his 
bread  for  nought,  what  shall  we  do  to  whom 
not  merely  is  there  no  preaching  of  the  word 
intrusted,  but  no  cure  of  souls  except  our  own 
committed  ?  with  what  confidence  shall  we  dare 
with  idle  hands  to  eat  our  bread  for  nought, 
when  the  "chosen  vessel,"  constrained  by  his 
anxiety  for  the  gospel  and  his  work  of  preach- 
ing, did  not  venture  to  eat  without  labouring 
with  his  own  hands?  "But  in  labour,"  he 
says,  "and  weariness,  working  night  and  day 
lest  we  should  be  burdensome  to  any  of  you."  4 
Up  to  this  point  he  amplifies  and  adds  to  his 
rebuke.  For  he  did  not  simply  say,  "We  did 
not  eat  bread  for  nought  from  any  of  you," 
and  then  stop  short.  For  it  might  have  been 
thought  that  he  was  supported  by  his  own  pri- 
vate means,  and  by  money  which  he  had  saved, 
or  by  other  people's,  though  not  by  their  col- 
lections and  gifts.  "But  in  labour,"  he  says, 
"and  weariness,  working  night  and  day;  "  that 
is,  being  specially  supported  by  our  own 
labour.  And  this,  he  says,  we  did  not  of  our 
own  wish,  and  for  our  own  pleasure,  as  rest 
and  bodily  exercise  suggested,  but  as  our 
necessities  and  the  want  of  food  compelled 
us  to  do,  and  that  not  without  great  bodily 
weariness.  For  not  only  throughout  the  whole 
day,  but  also  by  night,  which  seems  to  be 
granted  for  bodily  rest,  I  was  continually  ply- 
ing the  work  of  my  hands,  through  anxiety  for 
food. 

CHAPTER    IX. 

That  not  the  Apostle  only,  but  those  two  who  were  with  him 
laboured  with  their  own  hands. 

And  he  testifies  that  it  was  not  he  alone 
who  so  lived  among  them,  lest  haply  this 
method  might  not  seem  important  or  general 
if  he  depended  only  on  his  example.  But  he 
declares  that  all  those  who  were  appointed 
with  him  for  the  ministry  of  the  gospel,  i.e., 
Silvanus  and  Timothy,  who  wrote  this  with 
him,  worked  in  the  same  fashion.  For  by 
saying,  "  lest  we  should  be  burdensome  to 
any  of  you, "  he  covers  them  with  great  shame. 
For  if  he  who  preached  the  gospel  and  com- 


1  Increpationis  (Petschenig). 

2  1  Cor.  ix.  14. 

3  S.  Matt.  x.  10. 

4  2  Thess.  iii.  8. 


hiterpretationis  (Gazseus). 


mended  it  by  signs  and  mighty  works,  did  not 
dare  to  eat  bread  for  nought,  lest  he  should 
be  burdensome  to  any,  how  can  those  men 
help  thinking  that  they  are  burdensome  who 
take  it  every  day  in  idleness  and  at  their 
leisure? 

CHAPTER   X. 

That  for  this  reason  the  Apostle  laboured  with  his  own  hands, 
that  he  might  set  us  an  example  of  work. 

"  Not  as  if  we  had  not  power ;  but  that  we 
might  give  ourselves  a  pattern  to  you  to  imi- 
tate us."  He  lays  bare  the  reason  why  he 
imposed  such  labour  on  himself:  "that  we 
might,"  says  he,  "give  a  pattern  to  you  to 
imitate  us,"  that  if  by  chance  you  become  for- 
getful of  the  teaching  of  our  words  which  so 
often  passes  through  your  ears,  you  may  at 
least  keep  in  your  recollection  the  example  of 
my  manner  of  life  given  to  you  by  ocular  dem- 
onstration. There  is  here  too  no  slight  reproof 
of  them,  where  he  says  that  he  has  gone  through 
this  labour  and  weariness  by  night  and  day, 
for  no  other  reason  but  to  set  an  example,  and 
that  nevertheless  they  would  not  be  instructed, 
for  whose  sakes  he,  although  not  obliged  to  do 
it,  yet  imposed  on  himself  such  toil.  "And 
indeed,"  he  says,  "though  we  had  the  power, 
and  opportunities  were  open  to  us  of  using  all 
your  goods  and  substance,  and  I  knew  that  I 
had  the  permission5  of  our  Lord  to  use  them: 
yet  I  did  not  use  this  power,  lest  what  was 
rightly  and  lawfully  done  on  my  part  might 
set  an  example  of  dangerous  idleness  to  others. 
And  therefore  when  preaching  the  gospel,  I 
preferred  to  be  supported  by  my  own  hands 
and  work,  that  I  might  open  up  the  way  of 
perfection  to  you  who  wish  to  walk  in  the  path 
of  virtue,  and  might  set  an  example  of  good 
life  by  my  work." 

CHAPTER  XL 

That  he  preached  and  taught  men  to  work  not  only  by  his 
example,  but  also  by  his  words. 

But  lest  haply  it  might  be  thought  that, 
while  he  worked  in  silence  and  tried  to  teach 
them  by  example,  he  had  not  instructed  them 
by  precepts  and  warnings,  he  proceeds  to  say : 
"  For  when  we  were  with  you,  this  we  declared 
to  you,  that  if  a  man  will  not  work  neither 
should  he  eat."  Still  greater  does  he  make 
their  idleness  appear,  for,  though  they  knew 
that  he,  like  a  good  master,  worked  with  his 
hands  for  the  sake  of  his  teaching  and  in  order 
to  instruct   them,  yet  they  were  ashamed  to 


5  Permissum  (Petschenig).     Promissvm  (Gazsus). 


BOOK    X. 


271 


imitate  him;  and  he  emphasizes  our  diligence 
and  care  by  saying  that  he  did  not  only  give 
them  this  for  an  example  when  present,  but 
that  he  also  proclaimed  it  continually  in 
words;  saying  that  if  any  one  would  not 
work,   neither  should  he  eat. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

Of  his  saying :  "  If  any  will  not  work,  neither  shall  he  eat." 

And  now  he  no  longer  addresses  to  them 
the  advice  of  a  teacher  or  physician,  but  pro- 
ceeds with  the  severity  of  a  judicial  sentence, 
and,  resuming  his  apostolic  authority,  pro- 
nounces sentence  on  his  despisers  as  if  from 
the  judgment  seat:  with  that  power,  I  mean, 
which,  when  writing  with  threats  to  the  Co- 
rinthians, he  declared  was  given  him  of  the 
Lord,  when*  he  charged  those  taken  in  sin, 
that  they  should  make  haste  and  amend  their 
lives  before  his  coming :  thus  charging  them, 
"  I  beseech  you  that  I  may  not  be  bold  when 
I  am  present,  against  some,  with  that  power 
which  is  given  to  me  over  you."  And  again: 
"  For  if  I  also  should  boast  somewhat  of  the 
power  which  the  Lord  has  given  me  unto  edi- 
fication, and  not  for  your  destruction,  I  shall 
not  be  ashamed."  1  With  that  power,  I  say, 
he  declares,  "  If  a  man  will  not  work,  neither 
let  him  eat. "  Not  punishing  them  with  a  car- 
nal sword,  but  with  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  forbidding  them  the  goods  of  this  life, 
that  if  by  chance,  thinking  but  little  of  the 
punishment  of  future  death,  they  still  should 
remain  obstinate  through  love  of  ease,  they 
may  at  last,  forced  by  the  requirements  of 
nature  and  the  fear  of  immediate  death,  be 
compelled  to  obey  his  salutary  charge. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Of  his  saying  :  "  We  have  heard  that  some  among  you  walk 
disorderly." 

Then  after  all  this  rigour  of  gospel  severity, 
he  now  lays  bare  the  reason  why  he  put  for- 
ward all  these  matters.  "  For  we  have  heard 
that  some  among  you  walk  disorderly,  working 
not  at  all,  but  curiously  meddling."  He  is 
nowhere  satisfied  to  speak  of  those  who  will 
not  give  themselves  up  to  work,  as  if  they  were 
victims  of  but  a  single  malady.  For  in  his 
first  Epistle  2  he  speaks  of  them  as  "  disorderly, " 
and  not  walking  according  to  the  traditions 
which   they  had  received  from  him:    and  he 


1  Cor.  x.  2,  8. 

2  A  mistake  on  Cassian's  part :  the  reference  being  to  2  Thess. 
iii.  6. 


also  asserts  that  they  were  restless,  and  ate 
their  bread  for  nought.  Again  he  says  here, 
"  We  have  heard  that  there  are  some  among 
you  who  walk  disorderly."  And  at  once  he 
subjoins  a  second  weakness,  which  is  the  root 
of  this  restlessness,  and  says,  "working  not 
at  all ;  "  a  third  malady  as  well  he  adds,  which 
springs  from  this  last  like  some  shoot:  "but 
curiously  meddling." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

How  manual  labour  3  prevents  many  faults. 

And  so  he  loses  no  time  in  at  once  apply- 
ing a  suitable  remedy  to  the  incentive  to  so 
many  faults,  and  laying  aside  that  apostolic 
power  of  his  which  he  had  made  use  of  a  little 
before,  he  adopts  once  more  the  tender  char- 
acter of  a  good  father,  or  of  a  kind  physician, 
and,  as  if  they  were  his  children  or  his  pa- 
tients, applies  by  his  healing  counsel  remedies 
to  cure  them,  saying :  "  Now  we  charge  them 
that  are  such,  and  beseech  them  by  the  Lord 
Jesus,  that  working  with  silence  they  would 
eat  their  own  bread."  The  cause  of  all  these 
ulcers,  which  spring  from  the  root  of  idleness, 
he  heals  like  some  well-skilled  physician  by 
a  single  salutary  charge  to  work;  as  he  knows 
that  all  the  other  bad  symptoms,  which  spring 
as  it  were  from  the  same  clump,  will  at  once 
diappear  when  the  cause  of  the  chief  malady 
has  been  removed. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

How  kindness  should  be  shown  even  to  the  idle  and  careless. 

Nevertheless,  like  a  far-sighted  and  care- 
ful physician,  he  is  not  only  anxious  to  heal 
the  wounds  of  the  sick,  but  gives  suitable 
directions  as  well  to  the  whole,  that  their 
health  maybe  preserved  continually,  and  says: 
"  But  be  not  ye  weary  in  well  doing:  "  ye  who 
following  us,  i.e.,  our  ways,  copy  the  example 
given  to  you  by  imitating  us  in  work,  and  do 
not  follow  their  sloth  and  laziness:  "Do  not 
be  weary  in  well  doing;"  i.e.,  do  you  like- 
wise show  kindness  towards  them  if  by  chance 
they  have  failed  to  observe  what  we  said.  As 
then  he  was  severe  with  those  who  were 
weak,  for  fear  lest  being  enervated  by  laziness 
they  might  yield  to  restlessness  and  inquisi- 
tiveness,  so  he  admonishes  those  who  are  in 
good  health  neither  to  restrain  that  kindness 

3  The  text  of  Gazaeus  has  oratio,  but  the  reading  which  Pet- 
schenig  gives,  operatio  manuum,  is  clearly  so. 


272 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


which  the  Lord's  command  bids  us  show  to 
the  good  and  evil,1  even  if  some  bad  men  will 
not  turn  to  sound  doctrine;  nor  to  desist  from 
doing  good  and  encouraging  them  both  by 
words  of  consolation  and  by  rebuke  as  well 
as  by  ordinary  kindness  and  civility. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

How  we  ought  to  admonish  those  who  go  wrong,  not  out  of 
hatred,  but  out  of  love. 

But  again  in  case  some  might  be  encouraged 
by  this  gentleness,  and  scorn  to  obey  his  com- 
mands, he  proceeds  with  the  severity  of  an 
apostle :  "  But  if  any  man  obey  not  our  word 
by  this  Epistle,  note  that  man  and  do  not  keep 
company  with  him  that  he  may  be  ashamed." 
And  in  warning  them  of  what  they  ought  to 
observe  out  of  regard  for  him  and  for  the  good 
of  all,  and  of  the  care  with  which  they  should 
keep  the  apostolic  commands,  at  once  he  joins 
to  the  warning  the  kindness  of  a  most  indul- 
gent father;  and  teaches  them  as  well,  as  if 
they  were  his  children,  what  a  brotherly  dis- 
position they  should  cultivate  towards  those 
mentioned  above,  out  of  love.  "Yet  do  not 
esteem  him  as  an  enemy,  but  admonish  him 
as  a  brother."  With  the  severity  of  a  judge 
he  combines  the  affection  of  a  father,  and 
tempers  with  kindness  and  gentleness  the  sen- 
tence delivered  with  apostolic  sternness.  For 
he  commands  them  to  note  that  man  who 
scorns  to  obey  his  commands,  and  not  to  keep 
company  with  him;  and  yet  he  does  not  bid 
them  do  this  from  a  wrong  feeling  of  dislike, 
but  from  brotherly  affection  and  out  of  consid- 
eration for  their  amendment.  "  Do  not  keep 
company,"  he  says,  "with  him  that  he  may 
be  ashamed;  "  so  that,  even  if  he  is  not  made 
better  by  my  mild  charges,  he  may  at  last  be 
brought  to  shame  by  being  publicly  separated 
from  all  of  you,  and  so  may  some  day  begin 
to  be  restored  to  the  way  of  salvation. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Different  passages  in  which  the  Apostle  declares  that  we  ought 
to  work,  or  in  which  it  is  shown  that  he  himself  worked. 

In  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians  also  he  thus 
gives  a  charge  on  this  subject  of  work,  saying: 
"  He  that  stole,  let  him  now  steal  no  more, 
but  rather  let  him  labour,  working  with  his 
hands  the  thing  that  is  good,  that  he  may  have 
something  to  give  to  him  that  suffereth  need."  " 
And  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  too  we  find 


1  S.  Matt.  v.  43-45- 


2  Eph.  iv.  28. 


that  he  not  only  taught  this,  but  actually  prac- 
tised it  himself.  For  when  he  had  come  to 
Corinth,  he  did  not  permit  himself  to  lodge 
anywhere  except  with  Aquila  and  Priscilla, 
because  they  were  of  the  same  trade  which  he 
himself  was  accustomed  to  practise.  For  we 
thus  read:  "After  this,  Paul  departing  from 
Athens  came  to  Corinth;  and  finding  a  certain 
Jew  named  Aquila,  born  in  Pontus,  and  Pris- 
cilla his  wife,  he  came  to  them  because  they 
were  of  the  same  trade ;  and  abode  with  them, 
and  worked:  for  they  were  tent-makers  by 
trade."3 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

That  the  Apostle  wrought  what  he  thought  would  be  sufficient 
for  him  and  for  others  who  were  with  him. 

Then  going  to  Miletus,  and  from  thence 
sending  to  Ephesus,  and  summoning  to  him 
the  elders  of  the  church  of  Ephesus,  he 
charged  them  how  they  ought  to  rule  the 
church  of  God  in  his  absence,  and  said:  "I 
have  not  coveted  any  man's  silver  and  gold; 
you  yourselves  know  how  for  such  things  as 
were  needful  for  me  and  them  that  are  with 
me  these  hands  have  ministered.  I  have 
showed  you  all  things,  how  that  so  labouring 
you  ought  to  support  the  weak,  and  to  remem- 
ber the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he  said : 
It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive."4 
He  left  us  a  weighty  example  in  his  manner 
of  life,  as  he  testifies  that  he  not  only  wrought 
what  would  supply  his  own  bodily  wants  alone, 
but  also  what  would  be  sufficient  for  the  needs 
of  those  who  were  with  him:  those,  I  mean, 
who,  being  taken  up  with  necessary  duties, 
had  no  chance  of  procuring  food  for  themselves 
with  their  own  hands.  And  as  he  tells  the 
Thessalonians  that  he  had  worked  to  give 
them  an  example  that  they  might  imitate  him, 
so  here  too  he  implies  something  of  the  same 
sort  when  he  says :  "I  have  showed  you  all 
things,  how  that  so  labouring  you  ought  to 
support  the  weak, "  viz.,  whether  in  mind  or 
body;  i.e.,  that  we  should  be  diligent  in  sup- 
plying their  needs,  not  from  the  store  of  our 
abundance,  or  money  laid  by,  or  from  another's 
generosity  and  substance,  but  rather  by  secur- 
ing the  necessary  sum  by  our  own  labour  and 
toil. 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

How  we  should  understand  these  words  :  "  It  is  more  blessed 
to  give  than  to  receive." 

And  he  says  that  this  is  a  command  of  the 
Lord:  "For  He  Himself,"  namely  the  Lord 


3  Acts  xviii.  1-3. 


i  Acts  xx.  33-35. 


BOOK    X. 


27; 


Jesus,  said  he,  "said  it  is  more  blessed  to 
give  than  to  receive."  That  is,  the  bounty  of 
the  giver  is  more  blessed  than  the  need  of  the 
receiver,  where  the  gift  is  not  supplied  from 
money  that  has  been  kept  back  through  unbe- 
lief or  faithlessness,  nor  from  the  stored-up 
treasures  of  avarice,  but  is  produced  from  the 
fruits  of  our  own  labour  and  honest  toil.  And 
so  "it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive, " 
because  while  the  giver  shares  the  poverty  of 
the  receiver,  yet  still  he  is  diligent  in  provid- 
ing with  pious  care  by  his  own  toil,  not  merely 
enough  for  his  own  needs,  but  also  what  he 
can  give  to  one  in  want ;  and  so  he  is  adorned 
with  a  double  grace,  since  by  giving  away  all 
his  goods  he  secures  the  perfect  abnegation  of 
Christ,  and  yet  by  his  labour  and  thought  dis- 
plays the  generosity  of  the  rich ;  thus  honouring 
God  by  his  honest  labours,  and  plucking  for 
him  the  fruits  of  his  righteousness,  while  an- 
other, enervated  by  sloth  and  indolent  laziness, 
proves  himself  by  the  saying  of  the  Apostle 
unworthy  of  food,  as  in  defiance  of  his  com- 
mand he  takes  it  in  idleness,  not  without  the 
guilt  of  sin  and  of  obstinacy. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

Of  a  lazy  brother  who  tried  to  persuade  others  to  leave  the 
monastery. 

We  know  a  brother,  whose  name  we  would 
give  if  it  would  do  any  good,  who,  although  he 
was  remaining  in  the  monastery  and  compelled 
to  deliver  to  the  steward  his  fixed  task  daily, 
yet  for  fear  lest  he  might  be  led  on  to  some 
larger  portion  of  work,  or  put  to  shame  by  the 
example  of  one  labouring  more  zealously,  when 
he  had  seen  some  brother  admitted  into  the 
monastery,  who  in  the  ardour  of  his  faith  wanted 
to  make  up  the  sale  of  a  larger  piece  of  work, 
if  he  found  that  he  could  not  by  secret  persua- 
sion check  him  from  carrying  out  his  purpose, 
he  would  by  bad  advice  and  whisperings  per- 
suade him  to  depart  thence.  And  in  order  to 
get  rid  of  him  more  easily  he  would  pretend 
that  he  also  had  already  been  for  many  reasons 
offended,  and  wanted  to  leave,  if  only  he  could 
find  a  companion  and  support  for  the  journey. 
And  when  by  secretly  running  down  the  mon- 
astery he  had  wheedled  him  into  consenting, 
and  arranged  with  him  the  time  at  which  to 
leave  the  monastery,  and  the  place  to  which 
he  should  go  before,  and  where  he  should  wait 
for  him,  he  himself,  pretending  that  he  would 
follow,  stopped  where  he  was.  And  when  the 
other  out  of  shame  for  his  flight  did  not  dare 
to  return  again  to  the  monastery  from  which 
he  had  run  away,  the  miserable  author  of  his 


flight  stopped  behind  in  the  monastery.  It 
will  be  enough  to  have  given  this  single  in- 
stance of  this  sort  of  men  in  order  to  put 
beginners  on  their  guard,  and  to  show  clearly 
what  evils  idleness,  as  Scripture  says,1  can 
produce  in  the  mind  of  a  monk,  and  how  "evil 
communications  corrupt  good  manners."  2 


CHAPTER   XXL 

Different  passages  from  the  writings  of  Solomon  against  accidie. 

And  Solomon,  the  wisest  of  men,  clearly 
points  to  this  fault  of  idleness  in  many  pas- 
sages, as  he  says :  "  He  that  followeth  idleness 
shall  be  filled  with  poverty,"  3  either  visible 
or  invisible,  in  which  an  idle  person  and  one 
entangled  with  different  faults  is  sure  to  be 
involved,  and  he  will  always  be  a  stranger  to 
the  contemplation  of  God,  and  to  spiritual 
riches,  of  which  the  blessed  Apostle  says : 
"For  in  all  things  ye  were  enriched  in  him, 
in  all  utterance  and  in  all  knowledge."4  But 
concerning  this  poverty  of  the  idler  elsewhere 
he  also  writes  thus:  "Every  sluggard  shall  be 
clothed  in  torn  garments  and  rags."5  For 
certainly  he  will  not  merit  to  be  adorned  with 
that  garment  of  incorruption  (of  which  the 
Apostle  says,  "  Put  ye  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,"6  and  again:  "Being  clothed  in  the 
breastplate  of  righteousness  and  charity,"7 
concerning  which  the  Lord  Himself  also  speaks 
to  Jerusalem  by  the  prophet:  "Arise,  arise,  O 
Jerusalem,  put  on  the  garments  of  thyglory),"8 
whoever,  overpowered  by  lazy  slumber  or  by 
accidie,  prefers  to  be  clothed,  not  by  his  labour 
and  industry,  but  in  the  rags  of  idleness,  which 
he  tears  off  from  the  solid  piece  and  body  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  fits  on  to  his  sloth  no  gar- 
ment of  glory  and  honour,  but  an  ignominious 
cloak  and  excuse.  For  those,  who  are  affected 
by  this  laziness,  and  do  not  like  to  support 
themselves  by  the  labour  of  their  own  hands, 
as  the  Apostle  continually  did  and  charged  us 
to  do,  are  wont  to  make  use  of  certain  Scrip- 
ture proofs  by  which  they  try  to  cloak  their 
idleness,  saying  that  it  is  written,  "  Labour 
not  for  the  meat  that  perisheth,  but  for  that 
which  remains  to  life  eternal;"9  and  "My 
meat  is  to  do  the  will  of  my  Father."10  But 
these  proofs  are  (as  it  were)  rags,  from  the 


1  The  reference  is  probably  to  Ecclus.  xxiii.  29, 
taught  much  evil." 

2  1  Cor.  xv.  33. 

3  Prov.  xxviii.  19. 

4  1  Cor.  i.  5. 

5  Prov.  xxiii.  21  (LXX.). 

6  Rom.  xiii.  14. 

7  1  Thess.  v.  8. 

8  Is.  Hi.  1. 

9  S.  John  vi.  27. 
10  S.  John  iv.  34. 


Idleness  hath 


2  74 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF  JOHN    CASSIAN. 


solid  piece  of  the  gospel,  which  are  adopted 
for  this  purpose,  viz.,  to  cover  the  disgrace  of 
our  idleness  and  shame  rather  than  to  keep 
us  warm,  and  adorn  us  with  that  costly  and 
splendid  garment  of  virtue  which  that  wise 
woman  in  the  Proverbs,  who  was  clothed  with 
strength  and  beauty,  is  said  to  have  made 
either  for  herself  or  for  her  husband;  of  which 
presently  it  is  said:  "  Strength  and  beauty  are 
her  clothing,  and  she  rejoices  in  the  latter 
days."1  Of  this  evil  of  idleness  Solomon 
thus  makes  mention  again :  "  The  ways  of  the 
idlers  are  strown  with  thorns;"2  i.e.,  with 
these  and  similar  faults,  which  the  Apostle 
above  declared  to  spring  from  idleness.  And 
again:  "Every  sluggard  is  always  in  want."8 
And  of  these  the  Apostle  makes  mention  when 
he  says,  "  And  that  you  want  nothing  of  any 
man's."4  And  finally:  "For  idleness  has 
been  the  teacher  of  many  evils :  "  5  which  the 
Apostle  has  clearly  enumerated  in  the  passage 
which  he  expounded  above:  "Working  not  at 
all,  but  curiously  meddling."  To  this  fault 
also  he  joins  another:  "And  that  ye  study  to 
be  quiet;"  and  then,  "that  ye  should  do  your 
own  business  and  walk  honestly  towards  them 
that  are  without,  and  that  you  want  nothing 
of  any  man's."  Those  also  whom  he  notes 
as  disorderly  and  rebellious,  from  these  he 
charges  those  who  are  earnest  to  separate 
themselves:  " That  ye  withdraw  yourselves," 
says  he,  "from  every  brother  that  walketh 
disorderly  and  not  according  to  the  tradition 
which  they  received  from  us."  6 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

How  the  brethren  in  Egypt  work  with  their  hands,  not  only  to 
supply  their  own  needs,  but  also  to  minister  to  those  who  are 
in  prison. 

And  so  taught  by  these  examples  the  Fathers 
in  Egypt  never  allow  monks,  and  especially 
the  younger  ones,  to  be  idle,7  estimating  the 
purpose  of  their  hearts  and  their  growth  in 


1  Prov.  xxxi.  25  (LXX.). 

2  Prov.  xv.  19  (LXX.). 

3  Prov.  xiii.  4  (LXX.). 

4  1  Thess.  iv.  n. 

5  Ecclus.  xxxiii.  29. 

6  2  Thess.  iii.  11;  6;  1  Thess.  iv.  n. 

1  The  monks  of  Egypt  were  famous  for  their  labours,  and  Cas- 
sian's  language  might  be  illustrated  from  many  passages  in  the 
leathers  ;  e.g.,  Epiphanius,  in  his  third  book  against  heresies,  com- 
pares the  monks,  and  especially  those  in  Egypt,  to  bees,  because  of 
their  diligence.  So  S.  Jerome,  writing  to  Rusticus  (Ep.  cxxv.), 
says  that  no  one  is  received  in  a  monaster)'  in  Egypt  unless  he  will 
work,  and  that  this  rule  is  made  for  the  good  of  the  soul  rather  than 
for  the  sake  of  providing  food.  Compare  also  Sozomen  H.  E.  VI. 
xxviii.,  where  it  is  said  of  Serapion  and  his  followers  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Arsinoe  that  "they  lived  on  the  produce  of  their 
labour  and  provided  for  the  poor.  During  harvest-time  they  busied 
themselves  in  reaping  :  they  set  aside  sufficient  com  for  their  own 
use,  and  furnished  grain  gratuitously  for  the  other  monks."  S. 
Basil  also,  in  his  Monastic  Constitutions  cc.  iv.  and  v.,  speaks 
strongly  of  the  value  of  labour;  and  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict 
(c.  xlviii.)  enjoins  that  "as  idleness  is  the  enemy  of  the  soul,  the 
brethren  are  to  be  employed  alternately  in  manual  labour  and  pious 
reading." 


patience  and  humility  by  their  diligence  in 
work;  and  they  not  only  do  not  allow  them  to 
receive  anything  from  another  to  supply  their 
own  wants,  but  further,  they  not  merely  refresh 
pilgrims  and  brethren  who  come  to  visit  them 
by  means  of  their  labours,  but  actually  collect 
an  enormous  store  of  provisions  and  food,  and 
distribute  it  in  the  parts  of  Libya  which  suf- 
fer from  famine  and  barrenness,  and  also  in 
the  cities,  to  those  who  are  pining  away  in  the 
squalor  of  prison;  as  they  believe  that  by 
such  an  offering  of  the  fruit  of  their  hands 
they  offer  a  reasonable  and  true  sacrifice  to 
the  Lord. 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

That  idleness  is  the  reason  why  there  are  not  monasteries  for 
monks  in  the  West. 

Hence  it  is  that  in  these  countries  we  see 
no  monasteries  found  with  such  numbers  of 
brethren :  for  they  are  not  supported  by  the 
resources  of  their  own  labour  in  such  a  way 
that  they  can  remain  in  them  continually ;  and 
if  in  some  way  or  other,  through  the  liberality 
of  another,  there  should  be  a  sufficient  pro- 
vision to  supply  them,  yet  love  of  ease  and 
restlessness  of  heart  does  not  suffer  them  to 
continue  long  in  the  place.  Whence  this 
saying  has  been  handed  down  from  the  old 
fathers  in  Egypt:  that  a  monk  who  works  is 
attacked  by  but  one  devil;  but  an  idler  is 
tormented  by  countless  spirits. 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Of  Abbot  Paul  8  who  every  year  burnt  with  fire  all  the  works 
of  his  hands. 

Lastly,  Abbot  Paul,  one  of  the  greatest 
of  the  Fathers,  while  he  was  living  in  a  vast 
desert  which  is  called  the  Porphyrian  desert,9 
and  being  relieved  from  anxiety  by  the  date 
palms  and  a  small  garden,  had  plenty  to  sup- 
port himself,  and  an  ample  supply  of  food, 
and  could  not  find  any  other  work  to  do, 
which  would  support  him,  because  his  dwell- 
ing was  separated  from  towns  and  inhabited 
districts  by  seven  days 'journey,10  or  even  more, 
through  the  desert,  and  more  would  be  asked 
for  the  carriage  of  the  goods  than  the  price  of 
the  work  would  be  worth;  he  collected  the 
leaves  of  the  palms,  and  regularly  exacted  of 
himself  his  daily  task,  as  if  he  was  to  be  sup- 


8  This  Paul  is  perhaps  the  same  as  the  one  mentioned  in  connec- 
tion with  Abbot  Moses  in  Conference  VII.  xxvi.  As  he  was  a  con- 
temporary of  Cassian  he  must  be  carefully  distinguished  fromhis 
more  illustrious  namesakes,  the  first  hermit  and  the  disciple  of  S. 
Antonv. 

9  Also  called  the  desert  of  Calamus,  Conference  XXIV.  iv.,  but 
its  position  has  not  been  ascertained. 

10  Mansio  used  here  and  again  in  Conference  XXIV.  iv.  for  the 
stage  of  a  day's  journey. 


BOOK   XL 


275 


ported  by  it.  And  when  his  cave  had  been 
filled  with  a  whole  year's  work,  each  year  he 
would  burn  with  fire  that  at  which  he  had  so 
diligently  laboured :  thus  proving  that  without 
manual  labour  a  monk  cannot  stop  in  a  place 
nor  rise  to  the  heights  of  perfection :  so  that, 
though  the  need  for  food  did  not  require  this 
to  be  done,  yet  he  performed  it  simply  for  the 
sake  of  purifying  his  heart,  and  strengthening 
his  thoughts,  and  persisting  in  his  cell,  and 
gaining  a  victory  over  accidie  and  driving  it 
away. 

CHAPTER   XXV. 

The  words  of  Abbot  Moses  which  he  said  to  me  about  the  cure 
of  accidie. 

When  I  was  beginning  my  stay  in  the  desert, 
and  had  said  to  Abbot  Moses,  the  chief  of  all 


the  saints,  that  I  had  been  terribly  troubled 
yesterday  by  an  attack  of  accidie,  and  that  I 
could  only  be  freed  from  it  by  running  at  once 
to  Abbot  Paul,  he  said,  "You  have  not  freed 
yourself  from  it,  but  rather  have  given  your- 
self up  to  it  as  its  slave  and  subject.  For  the 
enemy  will  henceforth  attack  you  more  strongly 
as  a  deserter  and  runaway,  since  it  has  seen 
that  you  fled  at  once  when  overcome  in  the 
conflict:  unless  on  a  second  occasion  when 
you  join  battle  with  it  you  make  up  your  mind 
not  to  dispel  its  attacks  and  heats  for  the 
moment  by  deserting  your  cell,  or  by  the  in- 
activity of  sleep,  but  rather  learn  to  triumph 
over  it  by  endurance  and  conflict."  Whence 
it  is  proved  by  experience  that  a  fit  of  accidie 
should  not  be  evaded  by  running  away  from 
it,  but  overcome  by  resisting  it.1 


BOOK   XL 


OF  THE   SPIRIT  OF   VAINGIORY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

How  our  seventh  combat  is  against  the   spirit  of  vainglory, 
and  what  its  nature  is. 

Our  seventh  combat  is  against  the  spirit  of 
xsvodo£;iu,  which  we  may  term  vain  or  idle 
glory:  a  spirit  that  takes  many  shapes,  and 
is  changeable  and  subtle,  so  that  it  can  with 
difficulty,  I  will  not  say  be  guarded  against, 
but  be  seen  through  and  discovered  even  by 
the  keenest  eyes. 

CHAPTER    II. 

How  vainglory  attacks  a  monk  not  only  on  his  carnal,  but 
also  on  his  spiritual  side. 

For  not  only  does  this,  like  the  rest  of  his 
faults,  attack  a  monk  on  his  carnal  side,  but 
on  his  spiritual  side  as  well,  insinuating  itself 
by  craft  and  guile  into  his  mind :  so  that  those 
who  cannot  be  deceived  by  carnal  vices  are 
more  grievously  wounded  through  their  spir- 
itual proficiency;  and  it  is  so  much  the  worse 
to  fight  against,  as  it  is  harder  to  guard  against. 
For  the  attack  of  all  other  vices  is  more  open 
and  straightforward,  and  in  the  case  of  each 
of  them,  when  he  who  stirs  them  up  is  met 
by  a  determined  refusal,  he  will  go  away  the 
weaker  for  it,  and  the  adversary  who  has  been 
beaten  will  on  the  next  occasion  attack  his 
victim  with  less  vigour.     But  this  malady 


when  it  has  attacked  the  mind  by  means  of 
carnal  pride,  and  has  been  repulsed  by  the 
shield  of  reply,  again,  like  some  wickedness 
that  takes  many  shapes,  changes  its  former 
guise  and  character,  and  under  the  appear- 
ance of  the  virtues  tries  to  strike  down  and 
destroy  its  conqueror. 

CHAPTER   III. 

How  many  forms  and  shapes  vainglory  takes. 

For  our  other  faults  and  passions  may  be 
said  to  be  simpler  and  of  but  one  form :  but 
this  takes  many  forms  and  shapes,  and  changes 
about  and  assails  the  man  who  stands  up 
against  it  from  every  quarter,  and  assaults  its 
conqueror  on  all  sides.  For  it  tries  to  injure 
the  soldier  of  Christ  in  his  dress,  in  his  man- 
ner, his  walk,  his  voice,  his  work,  his  vigils, 
his  fasts,  his  prayers,  when  he  withdraws, 
when  he  reads,  in  his  knowledge,  his  silence, 
his  obedience,  his  humility,  his  patience;  and 
like  some  most  dangerous  rock  hidden  by 
surging  waves,  it  causes  an  unforeseen  and 
miserable  shipwreck  to  those  who  are  sailing 
with  a  fair  breeze,  while  they  are  not  on  the 
lookout  for  it  or  guarding  against  it. 


1  This  Abbot  Moses  is  probably  the  one  to  whom  the  first  two 
Conferences  are  attributed  (cf.  also  Conference  Vll.xxvi.);  and 
possibly  the  second  of  this  name  (Moses  the  Libyan)  mentioned  by 
Sozomen,  H.  E.  VI.  xxix.  Cf.  also  Palladius,  the  Lausiac  His- 
tory, c.  xxii. 


276 


THE   INSTITUTES   OF   JOHN   CASSIAN. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

How  vainglory  attacks  a  monk  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the 
left. 

And  so  one  who  wishes  to  go  along  the 
King's  highway  by  means  of  the  "arms  of 
righteousness  which  are  on  the  right  hand  and 
on  the  left,"  ought  by  the  teaching  of  the 
Apostle  to  pass  through  "honour  and  dis- 
honour, evil  report  and  good  report,"1  and 
with  such  care  to  direct  his  virtuous  course 
amid  the  swelling  waves  of  temptation,  with 
discretion  at  the  helm,  and  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  breathing  on  us,  since  we  know  that  if 
we  deviate  ever  so  little  to  the  right  hand  or 
to  the  left,  we  shall  presently  be  dashed  against 
most  dangerous  crags.  And  so  we  are  warned 
by  Solomon,  the  wisest  of  men :  "  Turn  not 
aside  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the  left;  "  2  i.e., 
do  not  flatter  yourself  on  your  virtues  and  be 
puffed  up  by  your  spiritual  achievements  on 
the  right  hand ;  nor,  swerving  to  the  path  of 
vices  on  the  left  hand,  seek  from  them  for 
yourself  (to  use  the  words  of  the  Apostle) 
"glory  in  your  shame."  3  For  where  the  devil 
cannot  create  vainglory  in  a  man  by  means  of 
his  well-fitting  and  neat  dress,  he  tries  to  in- 
troduce it  by  means  of  a  dirty,  cheap,  and 
uncared-for  style.  If  he  cannot  drag  a  man 
down  by  honour,  he  overthrows  him  by  humil- 
ity. If  he  cannot  make  him  puffed  up  by  the 
grace  of  knowledge  and  eloquence,  he  pulls 
him  down  by  the  weight  of  silence.  If  a  man 
fasts  openly,  he  is  attacked  by  the  pride  of 
vanity.  If  he  conceals  it  for  the  sake  of  de- 
spising the  glory  of  it,  he  is  assailed  by  the 
same  sin  of  pride.  In  order  that  he  may  not 
be  defiled  by  the  stains  of  vainglory  he  avoids 
making  long  prayers  in  the  sight  of  the  breth- 
ren ;  and  yet  because  he  offers  them  secretly 
and  has  no  one  who  is  conscious  of  it,  he  does 
not  escape  the  pride  of  vanity. 


CHAPTER   V. 

A  comparison  which  shows  the  nature  of  vainglory. 

Our  elders  admirably  describe  the  nature 
of  this  malady  as  like  that  of  an  onion,  and 
of  those  bulbs  which  when  stripped  of  one 
covering  you  find  to  be  sheathed  in  another ; 
and  as  often  as  you  strip  them,  you  find  them 
still  protected. 


1  2  Cor.  vi.  7,  8. 

2  Prov.jv.  27  (LXX.). 

3  Phil,  iii.  19. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

That  vainglory  is  not  altogther  got  rid  of  by  the  advantages  of 
solitude. 

In  solitude  also  it  does  not  cease  from  pur- 
suing him  who  has  for  the  sake  of  glory  fled 
from  intercourse  with  all  men.  And  the  more 
thoroughly  a  man  has  shunned  the  whole  world, 
so  much  the  more  keenly  does  it  pursue  him. 
It  tries  to  lift  up  with  pride  one  man  because 
of  his  great  endurance  of  work  and  labour, 
another  because  of  his  extreme  readiness  to 
obey,  another  because  he  outstrips  other  men 
in  humility.  One  man  is  tempted  through 
the  extent  of  his  knowledge,  another  through 
the  extent  of  his  reading,  another  through  the 
length  of  his  vigils.  Nor  does  this  malady 
endeavour  to  wound  a  man  except  through  his 
virtues;  introducing  hindrances  which  lead  to 
death  by  means  of  those  very  things  through 
which  the  supplies  of  life  are  sought.  For 
when  men  are  anxious  to  walk  in  the  path  of 
holiness  and  perfection,  the  enemies  do  not 
lay  their  snares  to  deceive  them  anywhere 
except  in  the  way  along  which  they  walk,  in 
accordance  with  that  saying  of  the  blessed 
David :  "  In  the  way  wherein  I  walked  have 
they  laid  a  snare  for  me;  "  4  that  in  this  very 
way  of  virtue  along  which  we  are  walking, 
when  pressing  on  to  "the  prize  of  our  high 
calling,"  5  we  may  be  elated  by  our  successes, 
and  so  sink  down,  and  fall  with  the  feet  of 
our  soul  entangled  and  caught  in  the  snares 
of  vainglory.  And  so  it  results  that  those  of 
us  who  could  not  be  vanquished  in  the  con- 
flict with  the  foe  are  overcome  by  the  very 
greatness  of  our  triumph,  or  else  (which  is 
another  kind  of  deception)  that,  overstraining 
the  limits  of  that  self-restraint  which  is  pos- 
sible to  us,  we  fail  of  perseverance  in  our 
course  on  account  of  bodily  weakness. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

How  vainglory,  when  it  has  been  overcome,  rises  again  keener 
than  ever  for  the  fight. 

All  vices  when  overcome  grow  feeble,  and 
when  beaten  are  day  by  day  rendered  weaker, 
and  both  in  regard  to  place  and  time  grow 
less  and  subside,  or  at  any  rate,  as  they  are 
unlike  the  opposite  virtues,  are  more  easily 
shunned  and  avoided:  but  this  one  when  it  is 
beaten  rises  again  keener  than  ever  for  the 
struggle;  and  when  we  think  that  it  is  de- 
stroyed, it  revives  again,  the  stronger  for  its 


*  Ps.  cxli.  (cxlii.)  4. 
5  Phil.  iii.  14. 


BOOK   XI. 


277 


death.  The  other  kinds  of  vices  usually  only 
attack  those  whom  they  have  overcome  in  the 
conflict;  but  this  one  pursues  its  victors  only 
the  more  keenly;  and  the  more  thoroughly  it 
has  been  resisted,  so  much  the  more  vigorously 
does  it  attack  the  man  who  is  elated  by  his 
victory  over  it.  And  herein  lies  the  crafty 
cunning  of  our  adversary,  namely,  in  the  fact 
that,  where  he  cannot  overcome  the  soldier  of 
Christ  by  the  weapons  of  the  foe,  he  lays  him 
low  by  his  own  spear. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

How  vainglory  is  not  allayed  either  in  the  .desert  or  through 
advancing  years. 

Other  vices,  as  we  said,  are  sometimes 
allayed  by  the  advantages  of  position,  and 
when  the  matter  of  the  sin  and  the  occasion 
and  opportunity  for  it  are  removed,  grow  slack, 
and  are  diminished:  but  this  one  penetrates 
the  deserts  with  the  man  who  is  flying  from 
it,  nor  can  it  be  shut  out  from  any  place,  nor 
when  outward  material  for  it  is  removed'  does 
it  fail.  For  it  is  simply  encouraged  by  the 
achievements  of  the  virtues  of  the  man  whom 
it  attacks.  For  all  other  vices,  as  we  said 
above,  are  sometimes  diminished  by  the  lapse 
of  time,  and  disappear:  to  this  one  length  of 
life,  unless  it  is  supported  by~skilful  diligence 
and  prudent  discretion,  is  no  hindrance,  but 
actually  supplies  it  with  new  fuel  for  vanity. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

That  vainglory  is  the  more  dangerous  through  being  mixed 
up  with  virtues. 

Lastly,  other  passions  which  are  entirely 
different  from  the  virtues  which  are  their  op- 
posites,  and  which  attack  us  openly  and  as  it 
were  in  broad  daylight,  are  more  easily  over- 
come and  guarded  against:  but  this  being 
interwoven  with  our  virtues  and  entangled  in 
the  battle;  fighting  as  it  were  under  cover  of 
the  darkness  of  night,  deceives  the  more  dan- 
gerously those  who  are  off  their  guard  and  not 
on  the  lookout. 

CHAPTER   X. 

An  instance  showing  how  King  Hezekiah  was  overthrown  by 
the  dart  of  vainglory. 

For  so  we  read  that  Hezekiah,  King  of 
Judah,  a  man  of  most  perfect  righteousness  in 
all  things,  and  one  approved  by  the  witness 
of  Holy  Scripture,  after  unnumbered  com- 
mendations for  his  virtues,  was  overthrown  by 
a  singl-e  dart  of  vainglory.  And  he  who  by  a 
single  prayer  of  his  was  able  to  procure  the 


death  of  a  hundred  and  eighty-five  thousand 
of  the  army  of  the  Assyrians,  whom  the  angel 
destroyed  in  one  night,  is  overcome  by  boast- 
ing and  vanity.  Of  whom  —  to  pass  over  the 
long  list  of  his  virtues,  which  it  would  take  a 
long  time  to  unfold  —  I  will  say  but  this  one 
thing.  He  was  a  man  who,  after  the  close  of 
his  life  had  been  decreed  and  the  day  of  his 
death  determined,  by  the  Lord's  sentence,  pre- 
vailed by  a  single  prayer  to  extend  the  limits 
set  to  his  life  by  fifteen  years,  the  sun  return- 
ing by  ten  steps,  on  which  it  had  already 
shone  in  its  course  towards  its  setting,  and  by 
its  return  dispersing  those  lines  which  the 
shadow  that  followed  its  course  had  already 
marked,  and  by  this  giving  two  days  in  one  to 
the  whole  world,  by  a  stupendous  miracle  con- 
trary to  the  fixed  laws  of  nature.1  Yet  after 
signs  so  great  and  so  incredible,  after  such  im- 
mense proofs  of  his  goodness,  hear  the  Scripture 
tell  how  he  was  destroyed  by  his  very  successes. 
"In  those  days,"  we  are  told,  ''Hezekiah  was 
sick  unto  death :  and  he  prayed  to  the  Lord, 
and  He  heard  him  and  gave  him  a  sign,"  that, 
namely  of  which  we  read  in  the  fourth  book  of 
the  kingdoms,  which  was  given  by  Isaiah  the 
prophet  through  the  going  back  of  the  sun. 
"But,"  it  says,  "he  did  not  render  again 
according  to  the  benefits  which  he  had  re- 
ceived, for  his  heart  was  lifted  up;  and  wrath 
was  kindled  against  him  and  against  Judah 
and  Jerusalem  :  and  he  humbled  himself  after- 
wards because  his  heart  had  been  lifted  up, 
both  he  and  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  and 
therefore  the  wrath  of  the  Lord  came  not  upon 
them  in  the  days  of  Hezekiah."2  How  dan- 
gerous, how  terrible  is  the  malady  of  vanity! 
So  much  goodness,  so  many  virtues,  faith  and 
devotion,  great  enough  to  prevail  to  change 
nature  itself  and  the  laws  of  the  whole  world, 
perish  by  a  single  act  of  pride!  So  that  all 
his  good  deeds  would  have  been  forgotten  as 
if  they  had  never  been,  and  he  would  at  once 
have  been  subject  to  the  wrath  of  the  Lord 
unless  he  had  appeased  Him  by  recovering 
his  humility:  so  that  he  who,  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  pride,  had  fallen  from  so  great  a  height 
of  excellence,  could  only  mount  again  to  the 
height  he  had  lost  by  the  same  steps  of  humil- 
ity. Do  you  want  to  see  another  instance  of 
a  similar  downfall? 

CHAPTER   XI. 

The  instance  of  King  Uzziah  who  was  overcome  by  the  taint 
of  the  same  malady. 

Of  Uzziah,  the  ancestor  of  this  king  of 
whom  we  have  been  speaking,  himself  also 
praised  in .  all  things  by  the  witness  of  the 


1  Cf.  2  Kings  xx. 


2  2  Chron.  xxxii.  24-26. 


278 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


Scripture,  after  great  commendation  for  his 
virtue,  after  countless  triumphs  which  he 
achieved  by  the  merit  of  his  devotion  and 
faith,  learn  how  he  was  cast  down  by  the  pride 
of  vainglory.  "And,"  we  are  told,  "the  name 
of  Uzziah  went  forth,  for  the  Lord  helped  him 
and  had  strengthened  him.  But  when  he  was 
made  strong,  his  heart  was  lifted  up  to  his 
destruction,  and  he  neglected  the  Lord  his 
God."1  You  behold  another  instance  of 
a  most  terrible  downfall,  and  see  how  two 
men  so  upright  and  excellent  were  undone  by 
their  very  triumphs  and  victories.  Whence 
you  see  how  dangerous  the  successes  of  pros- 
perity generally  are,  so  that  those  who  could 
not  be  injured  by  adversity  are  ruined,  unless 
they  are  careful,  by  prosperity;  and  those  who 
in  the  conflict  of  battle  have  escaped  the  danger 
of  death  fall  before  their  own  trophies  and 
triumphs. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Several  testimonies  against  vainglory. 

And  so  the  Apostle  warns  us:  "Be  noc  de- 
sirous of  vainglory."  2  And  the  Lord,  rebuk- 
ing the  Pharisees,  says,  "How  can  ye  believe, 
who  receive  glory  from  one  another,  and  seek 
not  the  glory  which  comes  from  God  alone  ?  "  8 
Of  these  too  the  blessed  David  speaks  with  a 
threat :  "  For  God  hath  scattered  the  bones  of 
them  that  please  men."  4 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Of  the  ways  in  which  vainglory  attacks  a  monk. 

In  the  case  also  of  beginners  and  of  those 
who  have  as  yet  made  but  little  progress  either 
in  powers  of  mind  or  in  knowledge  it  usually 
puffs  up  their  minds,  either  because  of  the 
quality  of  their  voice  because  they  can  sing 
well,  or  because  their  bodies  are  emaciated,5 
or  because  they  are  of  a  good  figure,  or  because 
they  have  rich  and  noble  kinsfolk,  or  because 
they  have  despised  a  military  life  and  honours. 
Sometimes  too  it  persuades  a  man  that  if  he 
had  remained  in  the  world  he  would  easily 
have  obtained  honours  and  riches,  which  per- 
haps could  not  possibly  have  been  secured, 
and  inflates  him  with  a  vain  hope  of  uncertain 
things ;  and  in  the  case  of  those  things  which 
he  never  possessed,  puffs  him  up  with  pride 
and  vanity,  as  if  he  were  one  who  had  despised 
them. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


How  it  suggests  that  a  man  may  seek  to  take  holy  orders. 


1  2  Chron.  xxvi.  15,  16. 

2  Gal.  v.  26. 

3  S.  John  v.  44. 


*  Ps.  lii.  (Hii.)  6. 
6  viz.,  by  fasting 


But  sometimes  it  creates  a  wish  to  take 
holy  orders,  and  a  desire  for  the  priesthood  or 
diaconate.  And  it  represents  that  if  a  man 
has  even  against  his  will  received  this  office, 
he  will  fulfil  it  with  such  sanctity  and  strict- 
ness that  he  will  be  able  to  set  an  example  of 
saintliness  even  to  other  priests;  and  that  he 
will  win  over  many  people,  not  only  by  his 
manner  of  life,  but  also  by  his  teaching  and 
preaching.  It  makes  a  man,  even  when  alone 
and  sitting  in  his  cell,  to  go  round  in  mind 
and  imagination  to  the  dwellings  and  monas- 
teries of  others,  and  to  make  many  conversions 
under  the  inducements  of  imaginary  exulta- 
tio 

CHAPTER   XV. 

How  vainglory  intoxicates  the  mind. 

And  so  the  miserable  soul  is  affected  by 
such  vanity  —  as  if  it  were  deluded  by  a  pro- 
found slumber  —  that  it  is  often  led  away  by 
the  pleasure  of  such  thoughts,  and  filled  with 
such  imaginations,  so  that  it  cannot  even  look 
at  things  present,  or  the  brethren,  while  it 
enjoys  dwelling  upon  these  things,  of  which 
with  its  wandering  thoughts  it  has  waking 
dreams,  as  if  they  were  true. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Of  him  whom  the  superior  came  upon  and  found  in  his  cell, 
deluded  by  idle  vainglory. 

I  remember  an  elder,  when  I  was  staying 
in  the  desert  of  Scete,  who  went  to  the  celj  of 
a  certain  brother  to  pay  him  a  visit,  and  when 
he  had  reached  the  door  heard  him  muttering 
inside,  and  stood  still  for  a  little  while,  want- 
ing to  know  what  it  was  that  he  was  reading 
from  the  Bible  or  repeating  by  heart  (as  is 
customary)  while  he  was  at  work.  And  when 
this  most  excellent  eavesdropper  diligently  ap- 
plied his  ear  and  listened  with  some  curiosity, 
he  found  that  the  man  was  induced  by  an 
attack  of  this  spirit  to  fancy  that  he  was  de- 
livering a  stirring  sermon  to  the  people.  And 
when  the  elder,  as  he  stood  still,  heard  him 
finish  his  discourse  and  return  again  to  his 
office,  and  give  out  the  dismissal  of  the  cate- 
chumens, as  the  deacon  does,6  then  at  last  he 

6  Celebrare  vehrt  diaconum  catechumenis  missam.  Missa  is 
here  used  for  the  dismissal  of  the  catechumens,  which  it  was  the 
deacon's  office  to  proclaim.  The  whole  service  was  divided  into 
two  parts,  (1)  the  mass  of  the  catechumens,  containing  the  Scrip- 


BOOK    XI. 


279 


Knocked  at  the  door,  and  the  man  came  out, 
and  met  the  elder  with  the  customary  rever- 
ence, and  brought  him  in  and  (for  his  knowl- 
edge of  what  had  been  his  thoughts  made  him 
uneasy)  asked  him  when  he  had  arrived,  for 
fear  lest  he  might  have  taken  some  harm  from 
standing  too  long  at  the  door:  and  the  old 
man  joking  pleasantly  replied,  "I  only  got 
here  while  you  were  giving  out  the  dismissal 
of  the  catechumens." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

How  faults  cannot  be  cured  unless  their  roots  and  causes  have 
been  discovered. 

I  thought  it  well  to  insert  these  things  in 
this  little  work  of  mine,  that  we  might  learn, 
not  only  by  reason,  but  also  by  examples, 
about  the  force  of  temptations  and  the  order 
of  the  sins  which  hurt  an  unfortunate  soul, 
and  so  might  be  more  careful  in  avoiding  the 
snares  and  manifold  deceits  of  the  enemy. 
For  these  things  are  indiscriminately  brought 
forward  by  the  Egyptian  fathers,  that  by  telling 
them,  as  those  who  are  still  enduring  them, 
they  may  disclose  and  lay  bare  the  combats 
with  all  the  vices,  which  they  actually  do  suf- 
fer, and  those  which  the  younger  ones  are  sure 
to  suffer;  so  that,  when  they  explain  the  illu- 
sions arising  from  all  the  passions,  those  who 
are  but  beginners  and  fervent  in  spirit  may 
know  the  secret  of  their  struggles,  and  seeing 
them  as  in  a  glass,  may  learn  both  the  causes 
of  the  sins  by  which  they  are  troubled,  and 
the  remedies  for  them,  and  instructed  before- 
hand concerning  the  approach  of  future  strug- 
gles, may  be  taught  how  they  ought  to  guard 
against  them,  or  to  meet  them  and  to  fight  with 
them.  As  clever  physicians  are  accustomed 
not  only  to  heal  already  existing  diseases,  but 
also  by  a  wise  skill  to  seek  to  obviate  future 
ones,  and  to  prevent  them  by  their  prescrip- 
tions and  healing  draughts,  so  these  true 
physicians  of  the  soul,  by  means  of  spiritual 
conferences,  like  some  celestial  antidote,  de- 
stroy beforehand  those  maladies  of  the  soul 
which  would  arise,  and  do  not  allow  them  to 
gain  a  footing  in  the  minds  of  the  juniors,  as 
they  unfold  to  them  the  causes  of  the  passions 


ture  lessons,  sermon,  and  prayers  for  the  catechumens;  and  (2) 
the  mass  of  the  faithful,  or  the  Eucharist  proper.  At  the  end  of 
the  first  part  the  deacon  warned  the  catechumens  to  depart,  in 
words  varying  slightly  in  different  churches,  but  substantially  the 
same  in  all,  both  east  and  west :  e.g.  in  the  Liturgy  of  S.  Chrysostom 
the  form  is  "  Let  all  the  catechumens  depart:  let  not  any  of  the 
catechumens  —  Let  all  the  faithful  —  ";  in  that  of  S.  Mark  it  is 
still  briefer:  "Look  lest  any  of  the  catechumens."  The  Roman 
missal  does  not  now  contain  this  feature,  but  it  was  certainly  origi- 
nally found  in  it,  for  it  is  alluded  to  by  Gregory  the  Great  (Dial. 
Book  fl.  c.  xxiii.),  who  gives  the  form  as  follows :  "  Si  quis  non 
communicat  det  locum."  It  was  also  customary  in  Spain  and  Gaul, 
as  well  as  in  Africa,  being  alluded  to  by  Augustine  in  Sermon  xlix. : 
"  Ecce  post  sermonen  fit  missa  catechumenis:  manebunt  fideles, 
venietur  ad  locum  orationis." 


which  threaten  them,  and  the  remedies  which 
will  heal  them. 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

How  a  monk  ought  to  avoid  women  and  bishops. 

Wherefore  this  is  an  old  maxim  of  the 
Fathers  that  is  still  current,  — though  I  can- 
not produce  it  without  shame  on  my  own  part, 
since  I  could  not  avoid  my  own  sister,  nor 
escape  the  hands  of  the  bishop, — viz.,  that 
a  monk  ought  by  all  means  to  fly  from  women 
and  bishops.  For  neither  of  them  will  allow 
him  who  has  once  been  joined  in  close  inter- 
course any  longer  to  care  for  the  quiet  of  his 
cell,  or  to  continue  with  pure  eyes  in  divine 
contemplation  through  his  insight  into  holy 
things. 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

Remedies  by  which  we  can  overcome  vainglory. 

And  so  the  athlete  of  Christ  who  desires  to 
strive  lawfully  in  this  true  and  spiritual  com- 
bat, should  strive  by  all  means  to  overcome 
this  changeable  monster  of  many  shapes, 
which,  as  it  attacks  us  on  every  side  like  some 
manifold  wickedness,  we  can  escape  by  such 
a  remedy  as  this;  viz.,  thinking  on  that  say- 
ing of  David :  "  The  Lord  hath  scattered  the 
bones  of  those  who  please  men."  x  To  begin 
with  we  should  not  allow  ourselves  to  do  any- 
thing at  the  suggestion  of  vanity,  and  for  the 
sake  of  obtaining  vainglory.  Next,  when  we 
have  begun  a  thing  well,  we  should  endeavour 
to  maintain  it  with  just  the  same  care,  for  fear 
lest  afterwards  the  malady  of  vainglory  should 
creep  in  and  make  void  all  the  fruits  of  our 
labours.  And  anything  which  is  of  very  little 
use  or  value  in  the  common  life  of  the  breth- 
ren, we  should  avoid  as  leading  to  boasting; 
and  whatever  would  render  us  remarkable 
amongst  the  others,  and  for  which  credit  would 
be  gained  among  men,  as  if  we  were  the  only 
people  who  could  do  it,  this  should  be  shunned 
by  us.  For  by  these  signs  the  deadly  taint  of 
vainglory  will  be  shown  to  cling  to  us:  which 
we  shall  most  easily  escape  if  we  consider  that 
we  shall  not  merely  lose  the  fruits  of  those 
labours  of  ours  which  we  have  performed  at 
the  suggestion  of  vainglory,  but  that  we  shall 
also  be  guilty  of  a  great  sin,  and  as  impious 
persons  undergo  eternal  punishments,  inas- 
much as  we  have  wronged  God  by  doing  for 
the  favour  of  men  what  we  ought  to  have  done 
for  His  sake,  and  are  convicted  by  Him  who 
knows  all  secrets  of  having  preferred  men  to 
God,  and  the  praise  of  the  world  to  the  praise 
of  the  Lord. 


1  Ps.  lii.  (liii.)  6. 


2  8o 


THE   INSTITUTES    OF  JOHN    CASSIAN. 


BOOK   XII. 


OF  THE   SPIRIT  OF  PRIDE. 


CHAPTER    I. 

How  our  eighth  combat  is  againSt  the  spirit  of  pride,  and  of 
its  character. 

Our  eighth  and  last  combat  is  against  the 
spirit  of  pride,  which  evil,  although  it  is  the 
latest  in  our  conflict  with  our  faults  and 
stands  last  on  the  list,  yet  in  beginning  and 
in  the  order  of  time  is  the  first :  an  evil  beast 
that  is  most  savage  and  more  dreadful  than 
all  the  former  ones,  chiefly  trying  those  who 
are  perfect,  and  devouring  with  its  dreadful 
bite  those  who  have  almost  attained  the  con- 
summation of  virtue. 


CHAPTER    II. 

How  there  are  two  kinds  of  pride. 

And  of  this  pride  there  are  two  kinds :  the 
one,  that  by  which  we  said  that  the  best  of 
men  and  spiritually  minded  ones  were  trou- 
bled; the  other,  that  which  assaults  even  be- 
ginners and  carnal  persons.  And  though  each 
kind  of  pride  is  excited  with  regard  to  both 
God  and  man  by  a  dangerous  elation,  yet 
that  first  kind  more  particularly  has  to  do  with 
God ;  the  second  refers  especially  to  men.  Of 
the  origin  of  this  last  and  the  remedies  for  it 
we  will  by  God's  help  treat  as  far  as  possible 
in  the  latter  part  of  this  book.  We  now  pro- 
pose to  say  a  few  things  about  that  former 
kind,  by  which,  as  I  mentioned  before,  those 
who  are  perfect  are  especially  tried. 


CHAPTER   III. 

How  pride  is  equally  destructive  of  all  virtues. 

There  is  then  no  other  fault  which  is  so 
destructive  of  all  virtues,  and  robs  and  de- 
spoils a  man  of  all  righteousness  and  holiness, 
as  this  evil  of  pride,  which  like  some  pesti- 
lential disease  attacks  the  whole  man,  and, 
not  content  to  damage  one  part  or  one  limb 
only,  injures  the  entire  body  by  its  deadly 
influence,  and  endeavours  to  cast  down  by  a 
most  fatal  fall,  and  destroy  those  who  were 
already  at  the  top  of  the  tree  of  the  virtues. 
For  every  other  fault  is  satisfied  within   its 


own  bounds  and  limits,  and  though  it  clouds 
other  virtues  as  well,  yet  it  is  in  the  main 
directed  against  one  only,  and  specially  attacks 
and  assaults  that.  And  so  (to  make  my  mean- 
ing clearer)  gluttony,  i.e.,  the  appetites  of 
the  belly  and  the  pleasures  of  the  palate,  is 
destructive  of  strict  temperance :  lust  stains 
purity,  anger  destroys  patience :  so  that  some- 
times a  man  who  is  in  bondage  to  some  one 
sin  is  not  altogether  wanting  in  other  virtues: 
but  being  simply  deprived  of  that  one  virtue 
which  in  the  struggle  yields  to  the  vice  which 
is  its  rival  and  opposed  to  it,  can  to  some 
extent  preserve  his  other  virtues :  but  this  one 
when  once  it  has  taken  possession  of  some 
unfortunate  soul,  like  some  most  brutal  tyrant, 
when  the  lofty  citadel  of  the  virtues  has  been 
taken,  utterly  destroys  and  lays  waste  the  whole 
city;  and  levelling  with  the  ground  of  vices 
the  once  high  walls  of  saintliness,  and  confus- 
ing them  together,  it  allows  no  shadow  of 
freedom  henceforth  to  survive  in  the  soul 
subject  to  it.  And  in  proportion  as  it  was 
originally  the  richer,  so  now  will  the  yoke  of 
servitude  be  the  severer,  through  which  by  its 
cruel  ravages  it  will  strip  the  soul  it  has  sub- 
dued of  all  its  powers  of  virtue. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

How  by  reason  of  pride  Lucifer  was  turned  from  an  archangel 
into  a  devil. 

And  that  we  may  understand  the  power 
of  its  awful  tyranny  we  see  that  that  angel 
who,  for  the  greatness  of  his  splendour  and 
beauty  was  termed  Lucifer,  was  cast  out  of 
heaven  for  no  other  sin  but  this,  and,  pierced 
with  the  dart  of  pride,  was  hurled  down  from 
his  grand  and  exalted  position  as  an  angel 
into  hell.  If  then  pride  of  heart  alone  was 
enough  to  cast  down  from  heaven  to  earth  a 
power  that  was  so  great  and  adorned  with  the 
attributes  of  such  might,  the  very  greatness  of 
his  fall  shows  us  with  what  care  we  who  are 
surrounded  by  the  weakness  of  the  flesh  ought 
to  be  on  our  guard.  But  we  can  learn  how  to 
avoid  the  most  deadly  poison  of  this  evil  if 
we  trace  out  the  origin  and  causes  of  his  fall. 
For  weakness  can  never  be  cured,  nor  the 
remedies  for  bad  states  of  health  be  disclosed 


BOOK   XII. 


281 


unless  first  their  origin  and  causes  are  investi- 
gated by  a  wise  scrutiny.  For  as  he  (viz., 
Lucifer)  was  endowed  with  divine  splendour, 
and  shone  forth  among  the  other  higher  powers 
by  the  bounty  of  his  Maker,  he  believed  that 
he  had  acquired  the  splendour  of  that  wisdom 
and  the  beauty  of  those  powers,  with  which 
he  was  graced  by  the  gift  of  the  Creator,  by 
the  might  of  his  own  nature,  and  not  by  the 
beneficence  of  His  generosity.  And  on  this 
account  he  was  puffed  up  as  if  he  stood  in  no 
need  of  divine  assistance  in  order  to  continue 
in  this  state  of  purity,  and  esteemed  himself 
to  be  like  God,  as  if,  like  God,  he  had  no 
need  of  any  one,  and  trusting  in  the  power  of 
his  own  will,  fancied  that  through  it  he  could 
richly  supply  himself  with  everything  which 
was  necessary  for  the  consummation  of  virtue 
or  for  the  perpetuation  of  perfect  bliss.  This 
thought  alone  was  the  cause  of  his  first  fall. 
On  account  of  which  being  forsaken  by  God, 
whom  he  fancied  he  no  longer  needed,  he 
suddenly  became  unstable  and  tottering,  and 
discovered  the  weakness  of  his  own  nature, 
and  lost  the  blessedness  which  he  had  enjoyed 
6y  God's  gift.  And  because  he  "  loved  the 
words  of  ruin,"  with  which  he  had  said,  "I 
will  ascend  into  heaven,"  and  the  "deceitful 
tongue,"  with  which  he  had  said  of  himself, 
"I  will  be  like  the  Most  High,"  1  and  of  Adam 
and  Eve,  "Ye  shall  be  as  gods,"  therefore 
"shall  God  destroy  him  forever  and  pluck  him 
out  and  remove  him  from  his  dwelling  place 
and  his  root  out  of  the  land  of  the  living." 
Then  "  the  just, "  when  they  see  his  ruin,  "  shall 
fear,  and  shall  laugh  at  him  and  say  "  (what 
may  also  be  most  justly  aimed  at  those  who 
trust  that  they  can  obtain  the  highest  good 
without  the  protection  and  assistance  of  God)  : 
"Behold  the  man  that  made  not  God  his 
helper,  but  trusted  in  the  abundance  of  his 
riches,  and  prevailed  in  his  vanity."2 


CHAPTER   V. 

That  incentives  to  all  sins  spring  from  pride. 

This  is  the  reason  of  the  first  fall,  and  the 
starting  point  of  the  original  malady,  which 
again  insinuating  itself  into  the  first  man,3 
through  him  who  had  already  been  destroyed 


the  freedom  of  his  will  and  by  his  own  efforts 
he  could  obtain  the  glory  of  Deity,  he  actually 
lost  that  glory  which  he  already  possessed 
through  the  free  gift  of  the  Creator. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

That  the  sin  of  pride  is  last  in  the  actual  order  of  the  combat, 
but  first  in  time  and  origin. 

And  so  it  is  most  clearly  established  by 
instances  and  testimonies  from  Scripture  that 
the  mischief  of  pride,  although  it  comes  later 
in  the  order  of  the  combat,  is  yet  earlier  in 
origin,  and  is  the  beginning  of  all  sins  and 
faults:  nor  is  it  (like  the  other  vices)  simply 
fatal  to  the  virtue  opposite  to  it  (in  this  case, 
humility),  but  it  is  also  at  the  same  time  de- 
structive of  all  virtues :  nor  does  it  only  tempt 
ordinary  folk  and  small  people,  but  chiefly 
those  who  already  stand  on  the  heights  of 
valour.*  For  thus  the  prophet  speaks  of  this 
spirit,  "His  meat  is  choice."6  And  so  the 
blessed  David,  although  he  guarded  the  re- 
cesses of  his  heart  with  the  utmost  care,  so 
that  he  dared  to  say  to  Him  from  whom  the 
secrets  of  his  conscience  were  not  hid,  "  Lord, 
my  heart  is  not  exalted,  nor  are  my  eyes  lofty: 
neither  have  I  walked  in  great  matters,  nor 
in  wonderful  things  above  me.  If  I  was  not 
humbly  minded;"6  and  again,  "He  that 
worketh  pride  shall  not  dwell  in  the  midst  of 
my  house ;  "  7  yet,  as  he  knew  how  hard  is  that 
watchfulness  even  for  those  that  are  perfect, 
he  did  not  so  presume  on  his  OAvn  efforts,  but 
prayed  to  God  and  implored  His  help,  that 
he  might  escape  unwounded  by  the  darts  of 
this  foe,  saying,  "Let  not  the  foot  of  pride 
come  to  me,"  8  for  he  feared  and  dreaded  fall- 
ing into  that  which  is  said  of  the  proud,  viz., 
"God  resisteth  the  proud;"9  and  again: 
"  Every  one  that  exalteth  his  heart  is  unclean 
before  the  Lord."10 


CHAPTER  VII. 

That  the  evil  of  pride  is  so  great  that  it  rightly  has  even  God 
Himself  as  its  adversary. 

How  great  is  the  evil  of  pride,  that  it  rightly 
has  no  angel,  nor  other  virtues  opposed  to  it, 


by  it,  produced  the  weaknesses  and  materials  \  but  God  Himself  as  its  adversary!     Since  it 
of  all  faults.      For  while  he  believed  that  by   should  be  noted  that  it  is  never  said  of  those 


1  Is.  xiv.  13,  14. 

2  Ps.  li.  (lii.)  6-9. 

3  Protoplastum  cf.  Wisdom  vii.i;  x.  1.  where  Adam  is  called 
jrpMTd;rAacrTos.  From  these  passages  the  term  came  to  be  com- 
monly used  as  the  designation  of  our  first  parents.  So  Clem.  Alex. 
Strrm.  iii.  17  :  and  in  its  Latin  form  it  is  found  in  the  early  transla- 
tion of  Irenaeus.     Hir.  III.  xxi.  20. 


4  Cf.  Milton's  "  last  infirmity  of  noble  minds 
o  Hab.  i.  i6(LXX.). 

6  Ps.  cxxx.  (cxxxi.)  1,  2. 

7  Ps.  c.  (ci.)  1,  2. 

8  Ps.  xxxv.  (xxxvi.)  1,  2. 

9  S.  James  iv.  6. 

10  Prov.  xvi.  5  (LXX.). 


(Lycidas.) 


282 


THE    INSTITUTES   OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


who  are  entangled  in  other  sins  that  they  have 
God  resisting  them ;  I  mean  it  is  not  said  that 
God  is  opposed  "  to  the  gluttonous,  fornicators, 
passionate,  or  covetous,"  but  only  "to  the 
proud."  For  those  sins  react  only  on  those 
who  commit  them,  or  seem  to  be  committed 
against  those  who  share  in  them,  i.e.,  against 
other  men;  but  this  one  has  more  properly 
to  do  with  God,  |and  therefore  it  is  especially 
right  that  it  should  have  Him  opposed  to  it. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

How  God  has  destroyed  the  pride  of  the  devil  by  the  virtue  of 
humility,  and  various  passages  in  proof  of  this. 

And  so  God,  the  Creator  and  Healer  of  all, 
knowing  that  pride  is  the  cause  and  fountain 
head  of  evils,  has  been  careful  to  heal  oppo- 
sites  with  opposites,  that  those  things  which 
were  ruined  by  pride  might  be  restored  by 
humility.  For  the  one  says,  "  I  will  ascend 
into  heaven ; " x  the  other,  "  My  soul  was 
brought  low  even  to  the  ground."2  The  one 
says,  "And  I  will  be  like  the  most  High;" 
the  other,  "Though  He  was  in  the  form  of 
God,  yet  He  emptied  Himself  and  took  the 
form  of  a  servant,  and  humbled  Himself  and 
became  obedient  unto  death."  3  The  one  says, 
"  I  will  exalt  my  throne  above  the  stars  of 
God ; "  the  other,  "  Learn  of  me,  for  I  am 
meek  and  lowly  of  heart."4  The  one  says, 
"  I  know  not  the  Lord  and  will  not  let  Israel 
go;"5  the  other,  "If  I  say  that  I  know  Him 
not,  I  shall  be  a  liar  like  unto  you:  but  I 
know  Him,  and  keep  His  commandments."6 
The  one  says,  "  My  rivers  are  mine  and  I  made 
them:  "  7  the  other:  "I  can  do  nothing  of  my- 
self, but  my  Father  who  abideth  in  me,  He 
doeth  the  works."8  The  one  says,  "All  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  them 
are  mine,  and  to  whomsoever  I  will,  I  give 
them;"9  the  other,  "Though  He  were  rich, 
yet  He  became  poor,  that  we  through  His 
poverty  might  be  made  rich. ' ' 10  The  one  says, 
"As  eggs  are  gathered  together  which  are  left, 
so  have  I  gathered  all  the  earth:  and  there 
was  none  that  moved  the  wing  or  opened  the 
mouth,  or  made  the  least  noise;  "  u  the  other, 
"I  am  become  like  a  solitary  pelican;  I 
watched  and  became  as  a  sparrow  alone  upon 
the  roof."  12  The  one  says,  "I  have  dried  up 
with  the  sole  of  my  foot  all  the  rivers  shut 
up  in  banks;  "  ls  the  other,  "Cannot  I  ask  my 


1  Is.  xiv.  13. 

-  Ps.  xliii.  (xliv.)  25. 

3  Phil.  ii.  6-8. 

4  S.  Matt.  xi.  29. 
'•>  Exod.  v.  2. 

fi  S.  John  viii,  55. 

'  Ezek.  xxix.  3.'(LXX.) 


8  S.  John  v.  30;  xiv.  10. 
3  S.  Luke  iv.  6. 

10  2  Cor.  viii.  9. 

11  Is.  x.  14. 

12  Ps.  ci.  (cii.)  7,  8. 

13  Is.  xxxvii.  25. 


Father,  and  Fie  shall  presently  give  me  mon 
than  twelve  legions  of  angels?"14  If  we  look  at 
the  reason  of  our  original  fall,  and  the  foun- 
dations of  our  salvation,  and  consider  by 
whom  and  in  what  way  the  latter  were  laid 
and  the  former  originated,  we  may  learn, 
either  through  the  fall  of  the  devil,  or  through 
the  example  of  Christ,  how  to  avoid  so  terrible 
a  death  from  pride. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

How  we  too  may  overcome  pride. 

And  so  we  can  escape  the  snare  of  this  most 
evil  spirit,  if  in  the  case  of  every  virtue  in 
which  we  feel  that  we  make  progress,  we  say 
these  words  of  the  Apostle:  "Not  I,  but  the 
grace  of  God  with  me,"  and  "by  the  grace  of 
God  I  am  what  I  am;  "  15  and  "it  is  God  that 
worketh  in  us  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His 
good  pleasure. "  16  As  the  author  of  our  salva- 
tion Himself  also  says:  "If  a  man  abide  in 
me  and  I  in  him,  the  same  beareth  much  fruit; 
for  without  me  ye  can  do  nothing."17  And 
"Except  the  Lord  build  the  house,  they  la- 
bour in  vain  that  build  it.  Except  the  Lord 
keep  the  city,  the  watchman  waketh  but  in 
vain."  And  "Vain  is  it  for  you  to  rise  up 
before  light. "  18  For  "  it  is  not  of  him  that 
willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but  of  God 
that  hath  mercy. ' ' 19 


CHAPTER  X. 

How  no  one  can  obtain  perfect  virtue  and  the  promised  bliss 
by  his  own  strength  alone. 

For  the  will  and  course  of  no  one,  however 
eager  and  anxious,20  is  sufficiently  ready  for 
him,  while  still  enclosed  in  the  flesh  which 
warreth  against  the  spirit,  to  reach  so  great  a 
prize  of  perfection,  and  the  palm  of  upright- 
ness and  purity,  unless  he  is  protected  by  the 
divine  compassion,  so  that  he  is  privileged 
to  attain  to  that  which  he  greatly  desires  and 
to  which  he  runs.  For  "every  good  gift  and 
every  perfect  gift  is  from  above,  and  cometh 
down  from  the  Father  of  lights."  21  "  For  what 
hast  thou  which  thou  didst  not  receive  ?  But 
if  thou  hast  received  it,  why  dost  thou  glory 
as  if  thou  hadst  not  received  it  ?  "  22 


«  S.  Matt.  xxvi.  53.  17  S.  John  xv.  5. 

18  1  Cor.  xv.  10.  ls  Ps.  cxxvi.  (cxxvii.)  1,  2. 

10  Phil.  ii.  13.  w  Rom.  ix.  16. 

!0  Quamvis  ferventis  et  cupientis  (Petschenig)  :     Quamvis  vo- 
lent  is  et  current  is  (Gazaeus). 

21  S.  James  i.  17.  "■  1  Cor.  iv.  7. 


\ 


BOOK    XII. 


283 


CHAPTER    XI. 

The  case  of  the  thief  and  of  David,  and  of  our  call  in  order  to 
illustrate  the  grace  of  God. 

For  if  we  recall  that  thief  who  was  by  reason 
of  a  single  confession  admitted  into  paradise,1 
we  shall  feel  that  he  did  not  acquire  such  bliss 
by  the  merits  of  his  life,  but  obtained  it  by 
the  gift  of  a  merciful  God.  Or  if  we  bear  in 
mind  those  two  grievous  and  heinous  sins  of 
King  David,  blotted  out  by  one  word  of  peni- 
tence,2 we  shall  see  that  neither  here  were  the 
merits  of  his  works  sufficient  to  obtain  pardon 
for  so  great  a  sin,  but  that  the  grace  of  God 
superabounded,  as,  when  the  opportunity  for 
true  penitence  was  taken,  He  removed  the 
whole  weight  of  sins  through  the  full  confes- 
sion of  but  one  word.  If  we  consider  also  the 
beginning  of  the  call  and  salvation  of  man- 
kind, in  which,  as  the  Apostle  says,  we  are 
saved  not  of  ourselves,  nor  of  our  works,  but 
by  the  gift  and  grace  of  God,  we  can  clearly 
see  how  the  whole  of  perfection  is  "  not  of 
him  that  willeth  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but 
of  God  that  hath  mercy,"  who  makes  us  vic- 
torious over  our  faults,  without  any  merits  of 
works  and  life  on  our  part  to  outweigh  them, 
or  any  effort  of  our  will  availing  to  scale  the 
difficult  heights  of  perfection,  or  to  subdue  the 
flesh  which  we  have  to  use :  since  no  tortures 
of  this  body,  and  no  contrition  of  heart,  can 
be  sufficient  for  the  acquisition  of  that  true 
chastity  of  the  inner  man  so  as  to  be  able  to 
gain  that  great  virtue  of  purity  (which  is  innate 
in  the  angels  alone  and  indigenous  as  it  were 
to  heaven)  merely  by  human  efforts,  i.e.,  with- 
out the  aid  of  God:  for-  the  performance  of 
everything  good  flows  from  His  grace,  who  by 
multiplying  His  bounty  has  granted  such  last- 
ing bliss,  and  vast  glory  to  our  feeble  will 
and  short  and  petty  course  of  life. 


CHAPTER    XII. 


That  no  toil  is  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  promised 

bliss. 


For  all  the  long  years  of  this  present  life 
disappear  when  you  have  regard  to  the  eternity 
of  the  future  glory :  and  all  our  sorrows  vanish 
away  in  the  contemplation  of  that  vast  bliss, 
and  like  smoke  melt  away,  and  come  to  noth- 
ing, and  like  ashes  are  no  more  seen. 


Cf.  S.  Luke  xxiii.  40. 


Cf.  2  Sam.  xii.  13. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

The  leaching  of  the  elders  on  the  method  of  acquiring  purity. 

Wherefore  it  is  now  time  to  produce,  in 
the  very  words  in  which  they  hand  it  down, 
the  opinion  of  the  Fathers;  viz.,  of  those  who 
have  not  painted  the  way  of  perfection  and  its 
character  in  high-sounding  words,  but  rather, 
possessing  it  in  deed  and  truth,  and  in  the 
virtue  of  their  spirit,  have  passed  it  on  by 
their  own  experience  and  sure  example.  And 
so  they  say  that  no  one  can  be  altogether 
cleansed  from  carnal  sins,  unless  he  has  real- 
ized that  all  his  labours  and  efforts  are  insuffi- 
cient for  so  great  and  perfect  an  end:  and 
unless,  taught,  not  by  the  system  handed  down 
to  him,  but  by  his  feelings  and  virtues  and 
his  own  experience,  he  recognizes  that  it  can 
only  be  gained  by  the  mercy  and  assistance  of 
God.  For  in  order  to  acquire  such  splendid 
and  lofty  prizes  of  purity  and  perfection,  how- 
ever great  may  be  the  efforts  of  fastings  and 
vigils  and  readings  and  solitude  and  retire- 
ment applied  to  it,  they  will  not  be  sufficient 
to  secure  it  by  the  merits  of  the  actual  efforts 
and  toil  For  a  man's  own  efforts  and  human 
exertions  will  never  make  up  for  the  lack  of 
the  divine  gift,  unless  it  is  granted  by  divine 
compassion  in  answer  to  his  prayer. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

That  the  help  of  God  is  given  to  those  who  labour .8 

Nor  do  I  say  this  to  cast  a  slight  on  human 
efforts,  or  in  the  endeavour  to  discourage  any 
one  from  his  purpose  of  working  and  doing  his 
best.  But  clearly  and  most  earnestly  do  I  lay 
down,  not  giving  my  own  opinion,  but  that  of 
the  elders,  that  perfection  cannot  possibly  be 
gained  without  these,  but  that  by  these  only 
without  the  grace  of  God  nobody  can  ever 
attain  it.  For  when  we  say  that  human  efforts 
cannot  of  themselves  secure  it  without  the  aid 
of  God,  we  thus  insist  that  God's  mercy  and 
grace  are  bestowed  only  upon  those  who  labour 
and  exert  themselves,  and  are  granted  (to  use 
the  Apostle's  expression)  to  them  that  "will  " 
and  "run,"  according  to  that  which  is  sung  in 
the  person  of  God  in  the  eighty-eighth  Psalm; 
"  I  have  laid  help  upon  one  that  is  mighty, 
and  have  exalted  one  chosen  out  of  my 
people."4     For  we  say,    in  accordance  with 


3  The  language  in  this  chapter  is  perilously  near  semi- Pelagian- 
ism,  on  which  compare  the  Introduction  p.  190,  sq. 

4  Ps.  lxxxviii.  (lxxxix.)  20. 


284 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


our  Saviour's  words,  that  it  is  given  to  them 
that  ask,  and  opened  to  them  that  knock;  and 
found  by  them  that  seek;  *  but  that  the  asking, 
the  seeking,  and  the  knocking  on  our  part  are 
insufficient  unless  the  mercy  of  God  gives  what 
we  ask,  and  opens  that  at  which  we  knock, 
and  enables  us  to  find  that  which  we  seek. 
For  He  is  at  hand  to  bestow  all  these  things, 
if  only  the  opportunity  is  given  to  Him  by  our 
good  will.  For  He  desires  and  looks  for  our 
perfection  and  salvation  far  more  than  we  do 
ourselves.  And  the  blessed  David  knew  so 
well  that  by  his  own  efforts  he  could  not  secure 
the  increase  of  his  work  and  labour,  that  he 
entreated  with  renewed  prayers  that  he  might 
obtain  the  "direction"  of  his  work  from  the 
Lord,  saying,  "Direct  thou  the  work  of  our 
hands  over  us ;  yea,  the  work  of  our  hands  do 
thou  direct; " 2  and  again:  "Confirm,  O  God, 
what  thou  hast  wrought  in  us."  3 


CHAPTER   XV. 

From  whom  we  can  learn  the  way  of  perfection. 

And  so,  if  we  wish  in  very  deed  and  truth 
to  attain  to  the  crown  of  virtues,  we  ought  to 
listen  to  those  teachers  and  guides  who,  not 
dreaming  with  pompous  declamations,  but 
learning  by  act  and  experience,  are  able  to 
teach  us  as  well,  and  direct  us  likewise,  and 
show  us  the  road  by  which  we  may  arrive  at 
it  by  a  most  sure  pathway;  and  who  also  testify 
that  they  have  themselves  reached  it  by  faith 
rather  than  by  any  merits  of  their  efforts.  And 
further,  the  purity  of  heart  that  they  have  ac- 
quired has  taught  them  this  above  all;  viz., 
to  recognize  more  and  more  that  they  are  bur- 
dened with  sin  (for  their  compunction  for  their 
faults  increases  day  by  day  in  proportion  as 
their  purity  of  soul  advances),  and  to  sigh  con- 
tinually from  the  bottom  of  their  heart  because 
they  see  that  they  cannot  possibly  avoid  the 
spots  and  blemishes  of  those  faults  which  are 
ingrained  in  them  through  the  countless  tri- 
flings of  the  thoughts.  And  therefore  they 
declared  that  they  looked  for  the  reward  of  the 
future  life,  not  from  the  merits  of  their  works, 
but  from  the  mercy  of  the  Lord,  taking  no 
credit  to  themselves  for  their  great  circum- 
spection of  heart  in  comparison  with  others, 
since  they  ascribed  this  not  to  their  own  exer- 
tions, but  to  divine  grace;  and  without  flatter- 
ing themselves  on  account  of  the  carelessness 
of  those  who  are  cold,  and  worse  than  they 
themselves  are,  they  rather  aimed  at  a  lasting 
humility  by  fixing  their  gaze  on  those  whom 


1  S.  Matt.  vii.  7. 


Ps.  lxxxix.  (xc.)  17.      3  Ps.  lxvii.  (Ixiii.)  29. 


they  knew  to  be  really  free  from  sin  and  al- 
ready in  the  enjoyment  of  eternal  bliss  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  and  so  by  this  considera- 
tion they  avoided  the  downfall  of  pride,  and 
at  the  same  time  always  saw  both  what  they 
were  aiming  at  and  what  they  had  to  grieve 
over .  as  they  knew  that  they  could  not  attain 
that  purity  of  heart  for  which  they  yearned 
while  weighed  down  by  the  burden  of  the 
flesh. 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

That  we  cannot  even  make  the  effort  to  obtain  perfection  with- 
out the  mercy  and  inspiration  of  God. 

We  ought  therefore,  in  accordance  with  their 
teaching  and  instruction,  so  to  press  towards 
it,  and  to  be  diligent  in  fastings,  vigils,  prayers, 
and  contrition  of  heart  and  body,  for  fear  lest 
all  these  things  should  be  rendered  useless  by 
an  attack  of  this  malady.  For  we  ought  to 
believe  not  merely  that  we  cannot  secure  this 
actual  perfection  by  our  own  efforts  and  exer- 
tions, but  also  that  we  cannot  perform  those 
things  which  we  practise  for  its  sake,  viz.,  our 
efforts  and  exertions  and  desires,  without  the 
assistance  of  the  divine  protection,  and  the 
grace  of  His  inspiration,  chastisement,  and 
exhortation,  which  He  ordinarily  sheds  abroad 
in  our  hearts  either  through  the  instrumen- 
tality of  another,  or  in  His  own  person  coming 
to  visit  us. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Various  passages  which  clearly  show  that  we  cannot  do  any- 
thing which  belongs  to  our  salvation  without  the  aid  of  God. 

Lastly,  the  Author  of  our  salvation  teaches 
us  what  we  ought  not  merely  to  think,  but  also 
to  acknowledge  in  everything  that  we  do.  "  I 
can,"  He  says,  "of  mine  own  self  do  nothing, 
but  the  Father  which  abideth  in  me,  He  doeth 
the  works."  4  He  says,  speaking  in  the  human 
nature  which  He  had  taken,5  that  He  could 
do  nothing  of  Himself;  and  shall  we,  who  are 
dust  and  ashes,  think  that  we  have  no  need  of 
God's  help  in  what  pertains  to  our  salvation? 
And  so  let  us  learn  in  everything,  <is  we  feel 
our  own  weakness,  and  at  the  same  time  His 
help,  to  declare  with  the  saints,  "I  was  over- 
turned that  I  might  fall,  but  the  Lord  sup- 
ported me.  The  Lord  is  my  strength  and  my 
praise:  and  He  is  become  my  salvation."6 
And  "Unless  the   Lord  had  helped  me,  my 


4  S.  John  xiv.  10;  v.  30. 

B  Ex  persona,  liominis  assumpti.    Seethe  note  on  Against  Nesto- 
rius,  I.  v. 

0  Ps.  cxvii.  (cxviii.)  13,  14. 


BOOK   -XII. 


285 


soul  had  almost  dwelt  in  hell.  If  I  said.  My 
foot  is  moved:  Thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  assisted 
me.  According  to  the  multitude  of  my  sor- 
rows in  my  heart,  Thy  comforts  have  given  joy 
to  my  soul."1  Seeing  also  that  our  heart  ,is 
strengthened  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  in 
patience,  let  us  say:  "And  the  Lord  became 
my  protector;  and  He  brought  me  forth  into 
a  large  place."  2  And  knowing  that  knowledge 
is  increased  by  progress  in  work,  let  us  say : 
"For  thou  lightest  my  lamp,  O  Lord:  O  my 
God,  enlighten  my  darkness,  for  by  Thee 
I  shall  be  delivered  from  temptation,  and 
through  my  God  I  shall  go  over  a  wall." 
Then,  feeling  that  we  have  ourselves  sought 
for  courage  and  endurance,  and  are  being 
directed  with  greater  ease  and  without  labour 
in  the  path  of  the  virtues,  let  us  say,  "  It  is 
God  who  girded  me  with  strength,  and  made 
my  way  perfect ;  who  made  my  feet  like  hart's 
feet,  and  setteth  me  up  on  high :  who  teacheth 
my  hands  to  war."  And  having  also  secured 
discretion,  strengthened  with  which  we  can 
dash  down  our  enemies,  let  us  cry  aloud  to 
God:  "Thy  discipline  hath  set  me  up3  unto 
the  end,  and  Thy  discipline  the  same  shall 
teach  me.  Thou  hast  enlarged  my  steps  under 
me,  and  my  feet  are  not  weakened."  And 
because  I  am  thus  strengthened  with  Thy 
knowledge  and  power,  I  will  boldly  take  up 
the  words  which  follow,  and  will  say,  "I  will 
pursue  after  my  enemies  and  overtake  them : 
and  I  will  not  turn  again  till  they  are  con- 
sumed. I  will  break  them,  and  they  shall 
not  be  able  to  stand:  they  shall  fall  under  my 
feet."4  Again,  mindful  of  our  own  infirmity, 
and  of  the  fact  that  while  still  burdened  with 
the  weak  flesh  we  cannot  without  His  assist- 
ance overcome  such  bitter  foes  as  our  sins  are, 
let  us  say,  "Through  Thee  we  will  scatter  our 
enemies : 5  and  through  Thy  name  we  will 
despise  them  that  rise  up  against  us.  For  I 
will  not  trust  in  my  bow:  neither  shall  my 
sword  save  me.  For  Thou  hast  saved  us  from 
them  that  afflict  us :  and  hast  put  them  to 
shame  that  hate  us."6  But  further:  "Thou 
hast  guided  me  with  strength  unto  the  battle, 
and  hast  subdued  under  me  them  that  rose 
up  against  me.  And  Thou  hast  made  mine 
enemies  turn  their  backs  upon  me,  and  hast 
destroyed  them  that  hated  me." 7  And  reflect- 
ing that  with  our  own  arms  alone  we  cannot 
conquer,  let  us  say,  "  Take  hold  of  arms  and 
shield:    and  rise  up  to  help  me.      Bring  out 


1  Ps.  xciii.  (xciv. )  17-19.  . 

2  Ps.  xvii.  (xviii.)  20  sq. 

3  Erexit  (Petschenig).     Gazaeus  reads  correxit,  with  the  Vulgate. 

4  Ps.  xvii.  (xviii.)  33  sq. 

5  Gazanis  adds  cornu  after  the  Vulgate. 

6  Ps.  xliii.  (xliv.)  6-8. 

7  Ps.  xvii.  (xviii.)  40,  41. 


the  sword  and  stop  the  way  against  them  that 
persecute  me :  say  to  my  soul,  I  am  thy  salva- 
tion." 8  "And  Thou  hast  made  my  arms  like 
a  brazen  bow.  And  Thou  hast  given  me  the 
protection  of  Thy  salvation :  and  Thy  right 
hand  hath  held  me  up. "  9  "  For  our  fathers  got 
not  the  possession  of  the  land  through  their 
own  sword:  neither  did  their  own  arm  save 
them :  but  Thy  right  hand  and  Thine  arm  and 
the  light  of  Thy  countenance  because  Thou 
wast  pleased  with  them."10  Lastly,  as  with 
anxious  mind  we  regard  all  His  benefits 
with  thankfulness,  let  us  cry  to  Him  with  the 
inmost  feelings  of  our  heart,  for  all  these 
things,  because  we  have  fought,  and  have  ob- 
tained from  Him  the  light  of  knowledge,  and 
self-control  and  discretion,  and  because  He 
has  furnished  us  with  His  own  arms,  and 
strengthened  us  with  a  girdle  of  virtue,  and 
because  He  has  made  our  enemies  turn  their 
backs  upon  us,  and  has  given  us  the  power  of 
scattering  them  like  the  dust  before  the  wind: 
"  I  will  love  Thee,  O  Lord  my  strength ;  the 
Lord  is  my  stronghold,  my  refuge  and  my  de- 
liverer. My  God  is  my  helper,  and  in  Him 
will  I  put  my  trust.  My  protector  and  the 
horn  of  my  salvation,  and  my  support. 
Praising  I  will  call  upon  the  name  of  the 
Lord;    and   I  shall  be  saved  from  mine  ene- 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

How  we  are  protected  by  the  grace  of  God  not  only  in  our 
natural  condition,  but  also  by  His  daily  Providence. 

Not  alone  giving  thanks  to  Him  for  that  He 
has  created  us  as  reasonable  beings,  and  en- 
dowed us  with  the  power  of  free  will,  and 
blessed  us  with  the  grace  of  baptism,  and 
granted  to  us  the  knowledge  and  aid  of  the 
law,  but  for  these  things  as  well,  which  are 
bestowed  upon  us  by  His  daily  providence; 
viz.,  that  He  delivers  us  from  the  craft  of  our 
enemies;  that  He  works  with  us  so  that  we 
can  overcome  the  sins  of  the  flesh,  that,  even 
without  our  knowing  it,  He  shields  us  from 
dangers;  that  He  protects  us  from  falling 
into  sin;  that  He  helps  us  and  enlightens  us, 
so  that  we  can  understand  and  recognize  the 
actual  help  which  He  gives  us,  (which  some 
will  have  it  is  what  is  meant  by  the  law) ; 12 
that,  when  we  are  through  His  influence  se- 
cretly struck  with  compunction  for  our  sins 
and  negligences,  He  visits  us  with  His  regard 

8  Ps.  xxxiv.  (xxxv.)  2-4. 
0  Ps.  xvii.  (xviii.)  35. 
™  Ps.  xliii.  (xliv.)  4,  5. 

11  Ps.  xvii.  (xviii.)  2-4. 

12  The  allusion  is  to  the  Pelagians.  Cf.  S.  Jerome  Contra  Pelag. 
I.  c.  ix.;  and  in  Jerem.  c.  xxv. ;  and  S.Augustine  De  Gratia  Christi 
contra  Pelag. 


286 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


and  chastens  us  to  our  soul's  health ;  that  even 
against  our  will  we  are  sometimes  drawn  by 
Him  to  salvation;  lastly  that  this  very  free 
will  of  ours,  which  is  more  readily  inclined 
to  sin,  is  turned  by  Him  to  abetter  purpose, 
and  by  His  prompting  and  suggestion,  bent 
towards  the  way  of  virtue. 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

How  this  faith  concerning  the  grace  of  God  was  delivered  to 
us  by  the  ancient  Fathers. 

This  then  is  that  humility  towards  God, 
this  is  that  genuine  faith  of  the  ancient  fa- 
thers which  still  remains  intact  among  their 
successors.  And  to  this  faith,  the  apostolic 
virtues,  which  they  so  often  showed,  bear  an 
undoubted  witness,  not  only  among  us  but 
also  among  infidels  and  unbelievers:  for  keep- 
ing in  simplicity  of  heart  the  simple  faith  of 
the  fishermen  they  did  not  receive  it  in  a 
worldly  spirit  through  dialectical  syllogisms 
or  the  eloquence  of  a  Cicero,  but  learnt  by  the 
experience  of  a  pure  life,  and  stainless  actions, 
and  by  correcting  their  faults,  and  (to  speak 
more  truly)  by  visible  proofs,  that  the  character 
of  perfection  is  to  be  found  in  that  faith  with- 
out which  neither  piety  towards  God,  nor 
purification  from  sin,  nor  amendment  of  life, 
nor  perfection  of  virtue  can  be  secured. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

Of  one  who  for  his  blasphemy  was  given  over  to  a  most  un- 
clean spirit. 

I  knew  one  of  the  number  of  the  brethren, 
whom  I  heartily  wish  I  had  never  known; 
since  afterwards  he  allowed  himself  to  be 
saddled  with  the  responsibilities  of  my  or- 
der: 1  who  confessed  to  a  most  admirable  elder 
that  he  was  attacked  by  a  terrible  sin  of  the 
flesh :  for  he  was  inflamed  with  an  intolerable 
lust,  with  the  unnatural  desire  of  suffering 
rather  than  of  committing  a  shameful  act: 
then  the  other  like  a  true  spiritual  physician,  at 
once  saw  through  the  inward  cause  and  ori- 
gin of  this  evil.  And,  sighing  deeply,  said: 
"Never  would  the  Lord  have  suffered  you 
to  be  given  over  to  so  foul  a  spirit  unless 
you  had  blasphemed  against  Him.  "  And  he, 
when  this  was  discovered,  at  once  fell  at  his 
feet  on  the  ground,  and,  struck  with  the  ut- 
most astonishment,  as  if  he  saw  the  secrets  of 
his  heart  laid  bare  by  God,  confessed  that  he 
had  blasphemed  with  evil  thoughts  against 
the  Son  of  God.     Whence  it  is  clear  that  one 

1  Viz.,  that  of  the  priesthood. 


who  is  possessed  by  the  spirit  of  pride,  or 
who  has  been  guilty  of  blasphemy  against 
God,- — as  one  who  offers  a  wrong  to  Him 
from  whom  the  gift  of  purity  must  be  looked 
for  —  is  deprived  of  his  uprightness  and  per- 
fection, and  does  not  deserve  the  sanctifying 
grace  of  chastity. 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

The  instance  of  Joash,  King  of  Judith,  showing  what  was  the 
consequence  of  his  pride. 

Some  such  thing  we  read  of  in  the  book  of 
Chronicles.  For  Joash  the  king  of  Judah  at 
the  age  of  seven  was  summoned  by  Jehoiada 
the  priest  to  the  kingdom  and  by  the  witness 
of  Scripture  is  commended  for  all  his  actions 
as  long  as  the  aforesaid  priest  lived.  But  hear 
what  Scripture  relates  of  him  after  Jehoiada's 
death,  and  how  he  was  puffed  up  with  pride 
and  given  over  to  a  most  disgraceful  state. 
"  But  after  the  death  of  Jehoiada  the  princes 
went  in  and  worshipped  the  king:  and  he  was 
soothed  by  their  services  and  hearkened  unto 
them.  And  they  forsook  the  temple  of  the 
Lord,  the  God  of  their  fathers,  and  served 
groves  and  idols,  and  great  wrath  came  upon 
Judah  and  Jerusalem  because  of  this  sin." 
And  after  a  little:  "  When  a  year  was  come 
about,  the  army  of  Syria  came  up  against  him: 
and  they  came  to  Judah  and  Jerusalem,  and 
killed  all  the  princes  of  the  people,  and  they 
sent  all  the  spoils  to  the  king  to  Damascus. 
And  whereas  there  came  a  very  small  number 
of  the  Syrians,  the  Lord  delivered  into  their 
hands  an  infinite  multitude,  because  they  had 
forsaken  the  Lord  the  God  of  their  fathers: 
and  on  Joash  they  executed  shameful  judg- 
ments. And  departing  they  left  him  in  great 
diseases.  "  2  You  see  how  the  consequence  of 
pride  was  that  he  was  given  over  to  shocking 
and  filthy  passions.  For  he  who  is  puffed 
up  with  pride  and  has  permitted  himself  to  be 
worshipped  as  God,  is  (as  the  Apostle  says) 
"given  over  to  shameful  passions  and  a  repro- 
bate mind  to  do  those  things  which  are  not 
convenient."  a  And  because,  as  Scripture  says, 
"every  one  who  exalts  his  heart  is  unclean  be- 
fore God,"  4  he  who  is  puffed  up  with  swelling 
pride  of  heart  is  given  over  to  most  shameful 
confusion  to  be  deluded  by  it,  that  when  thus 
humbled  he  may  know  that  he  is  unclean 
through  impurity  of  the  flesh  and  knowledge 
of  impure  desires,  —  a  thing  which  he  had 
refused  to  recognize  in  the  pride  of  his  heart; 
and  also  that    the   shameful  infection  of  the 


2  2  Chr.  xxiv.  17,  iS ;  23-25. 

3  Rom.  i.  26,  28. 

*  Prov.  xvi.  5  (LXX.). 


BOOK   XII. 


287 


flesh  may  disclose  the  hidden  impurity  of  the 
heart,  which  he  contracted  through  the  sin  of 
pride,  and  that  through  the  patent  pollution 
of  his  body  he  may  be  proved  to  be  impure, 
who  did  not  formerly  see  that  he  had  become 
unclean  through  the  pride  of  his  spirit. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

That  every  proud  soul  is  subject  to  spiritual  wickedness  to  be 
deceived  by  it. 

And  this  clearly  shows  that  every  soul  of 
which  the  swellings  of  pride  have  taken  pos- 
session, is  given  over  to  the  Syrians  of  the 
soul,1  i.e.,  to  spiritual  wickedness,  and  that  it 
is  entangled  in  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  that  the 
soul  being  at  last  humbled  by  earthly  faults, 
and  carnally  polluted,  may  recognize  its  un- 
cleanness,  though  while  it  stood  erect  in  the 
coldness  of  its  heart,  it  could  not  understand 
that  through  pride  of  heart  it  was  rendered 
unclean  in  the  sight  of  God;  and  by  this 
means  being  humbled,  a  man  may  get  rid  of 
his  former  coldness,  and  being  cast  down  and 
confused  with  the  shame  of  his  fleshly  lusts, 
may  thenceforward  hasten  to  betake  himself 
the  more  eagerly  towards  fervour  and  warmth 
of  spirit. 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

How  perfection  can  only  be  attained  through  the  virtue  of 
humility. 

And  so  it  is  clearly  shown  that  none  can 
attain  the  end  of  perfection  and  purity,  ex- 
cept through  true  humility,  which  he  displays 
in  the  first  instance  to  the  brethren,  and  shows 
also  to  God  in  his  inmost  heart,  believing 
that  without  His  protection  and  aid  extended 
to  him  at  every  instant,  he  cannot  possibly 
obtain  the  perfection  which  he  desires  and  to 
which  he  hastens  so  eagerly. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Who  are  attacked  by  spiritual  and  who  by  carnal  pride. 

Thus  much  let  it  suffice  to  have  spoken,  as 
far  as,  by  God's  help,  our  slender  ability  was 
able,  concerning  spiritual  pride  of  which  we 
have  said  that  it  attacks  advanced  Christians. 
And  this  kind  of  pride  is  not  familiar  to  or 
experienced  by  most  men,  because  the  ma- 
jority do  not  aim  at  attaining  perfect  purity 
of  heart,  so  as  to  arrive  at  the  stage  of  these 

1  Intellectuals. 


conflicts;  nor  have  they  secured  any  purifica- 
tion from  the  preceding  faults  of  which  we 
have  here  explained  both  the  character  and 
the  remedies  in  separate  books.  But  it  gen- 
erally attacks  those  only  who  have  conquered 
the  former  faults  and  have  already  almost  ar- 
rived at  the  top  of  the  tree  in  respect  of  the 
virtues.  And  because  our  most  crafty  enemy 
has  not  been  able  to  destroy  them  through  a 
carnal  fall,  he  endeavours  to  cast  them  down 
and  overthrow  them  by  a  spiritual  catastrophe, 
trying  by  this  to  rob  them  of  the  prizes  of 
their  ancient  rewards  secured  as  they  were 
with  great  labour.  But  as  for  us,  who  are  still 
entangled  in  earthly  passions,  he  never  deigns 
to  tempt  us  in  this  fashion,  but  overthrows 
us  by  a  coarser  and  what  I  called  a  carnal 
pride.  And  therefore  I  think  it  well,  as  I 
promised,  to  say  a  few  things  about  this 
kind  of  pride  by  which  we  and  men  of  our 
stamp  are  usually  affected,  and  the  minds 
especially  of  younger  men  and  beginners  are 
endangered. 

CHAPTER   XXV. 

A  description  of  carnal   pride,  and  of  the  evils  which  it  pro- 
duces in  the  soul  of  a  monk. 

This  carnal  pride  therefore,  of  which  we 
spoke,  when  it  has  gained  an  entrance  into 
the  heart  of  a  monk,  which  is  but  lukewarm, 
and  has  made  a  bad  start  in  renouncing  the 
world,  does  not  suffer  him  to  stoop  from  his 
former  state  of  worldly  haughtiness  to  the  true 
humility  of  Christ,  but  first  of  all  makes  him 
disobedient  and  rough;  then  it  does  not  let 
him  be  gentle  and  kindly;  nor  allows  him  to 
be  on  a  level  with  and  like  his  brethren:  nor 
does  it  permit  him  to  be  stripped  and  de- 
prived of  his  worldly  goods,  as  God  and  our 
Saviour  commands:  and,  though  renunciation 
of  the  world  is  nothing  but  the  mark  of  mor- 
tification and  the  cross,  and  cannot  begin  or 
rise  from  any  other  foundations,  but  these;  viz., 
that  a  man  should  recognize  that  he  is  not 
merely  spiritually  dead  to  the  deeds  of  this 
world,  but  also  should  realize  daily  that  he 
must  die  in  the  body  —  it  makes  him  on  the 
contrary  hope  for  a  long  life,  and  sets  before 
him  many  lengthy  infirmities,  and  covers  him 
with  shame  and  confusion.  If  when  stripped  of 
everything  he  has  begun  to  be  supported  by 
the  property  of  others  and  not  his  own,  it  per- 
suades him  that  it  is  much  better  for  food  and 
clothing  to  be  provided  for  him  by  his  own 
rather  than  by  another's  means  according  to 
that   text  (which,  as  was  before   said,2  those 


2  See  Book  X.  c.  xviii. 


288 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


who  are  rendered  dense  through  such  dulness 
and  coldness  of  heart,  cannot  possibly  under- 
stand.) "It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to 
receive."  1 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 

That  a  man  whose  foundation  is  bad,  sinks  daily  from  bad  to 
worse. 

Those  then  who  are  possessed  by  such  dis- 
trust of  mind,  and  who  through  the  devil's 
own  want  of  faith  fall  away  from  that  spark 
of  faith,  by  which  they  seemed  in  the  early 
days  of  their  conversion  to  be  enkindled,  begin 
more  anxiously  to  watch  over  the  money  which 
before  they  had  begun  to  give  away,  and 
treasure  it  up  with  greater  avarice,  as  men 
who  cannot  recover  again  what  they  have 
once  wasted  :  or  —  what  is  still  worse  — 
take  back  what  they  had  formerly  cast  away : 
or  else  (which  is  a  third  and  most  disgusting 
kind  of  sin),  collect  what  they  never  before 
possessed,  and  thus  are  convicted  of  having 
gone  no  further  in  forsaking  the  world  than 
merely  to  take  the  name  and  style  of  monk. 
With  this  beginning  therefore,  and  on  this 
bad  and  rotten  foundation,  it  is  a  matter  of 
course  that  the  whole  superstructure  of  faults 
must  rise,  nor  can  anything  be  built  on  such 
villanous  foundations,  except  what  will  bring 
the  wretched  soul  to  the  ground  with  a  hope- 
less collapse. 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 

A  description  of  the  faults  which  spring  from  the  evil  of  pride. 

The  mind  then  that  is  hardened  by  such 
feelings,  and  which  begins  with  this  miserable 
coldness  is  sure  to  go  daily  from  bad  to  worse 
and  to  conclude  its  life  with  a  more  hideous 
end:  and  while  it  takes  delight  in  its  former 
desires,  and  is  overcome,  as  the  apostle  says, 
by  impious  avarice  (as  he  says  of  it  "and 
.covetousness,  which  is  idolatry,  or  the  worship 
of  idols,"  and  again  "the  love  of  money," 
says  he,  "is  the  root  of  all  evils  "  *)  can  never 
admit  into  the  heart  the  true  and  unfeigned 
humility  of  Christ,  while  the  man  boasts 
himself  of  his  high  birth,  or  is  puffed  up  by 
his  position  in  the  world  (which  he  has  for- 
saken in  body  but  not  in  mind)  or  is  proud 
of  his  wealth  which  he  retains  to  his  own 
destruction ;  and  because  of  this  he  is  no 
longer  content  to  endure  the  yoke  of  the 
monastery,  or  to  be  instructed  by  the  teach- 
ing of  any  of  the  elders,  and  not  only  objects 


to  observe  any  rule  of  subjection  or  obedience, 
but  will  not  even  listen  to  teaching  about 
perfection ;  and  such  dislike  of  spiritual  talk 
grows  up  in  his  heart  that  if  such  a  conversa- 
tion should  happen  to  arise,  he  cannot  keep 
his  eyes  fixed  on  one  spot,  but  his  gaze  wan- 
ders blankly  about  here  and  there,  and  his 
eyes  shift  hither  and  thither,  as  the  custom  is. 
Instead  of  wholesome  coughs,  he  spits  from 
a  dry  throat:  he  coughs  on  purpose  without 
any  need,  he  drums  with  his  fingers,  and  twid- 
dles them  and  scribbles  like  a  man  writing: 
and  all  his  limbs  fidget  so  that  whiie  the  spir- 
itual conversation  is  proceeding,  you  would 
think  that  he  was  sitting  on  thorns,  and  those 
very  sharp  ones,  or  in  the  midst  of  a  mass  of 
worms :  and  if  the  conversation  turns  in  all 
simplicity  on  something  which  is  for  the  good 
of  the  hearers,  he  thinks  that  it  is  brought 
forward  for  his  especial  benefit.  And  all  the 
time  that  the  examination  of  the  spiritual  life 
is  proceeding,  he  is  taken  up  with  his  own 
suspicious  thoughts,  and  is  not  on  the  watch 
for  something  to  take  home  for  his  good,  but 
is  anxiously  seeking  the  reason  why  anything 
is  said,  or  is  quietly  turning  over  in  his  mind, 
how  he  can  raise  objections  to  it,  so  that  he 
cannot  at  all  take  in  any  of  those  things 
which  are  so  admirably  brought  forward,  or 
be  done  any  good  to  by  them.  And  so  the 
result  is  that  the  spiritual  conference  is  not 
merely  of  no.  use  to  him,  but  is  positively 
injurious,  and  becomes  to  him  an  occasion 
of  greater  sin.  For  while  he  is  conscience 
stricken  and  fancies  that  everything  is  being 
aimed  at  him  he  hardens  himself  more  stub- 
bornly in  the  obstinacy  of  his  heart,  and  is 
more  keenly  affected  by  the  stings  of  his 
wrath:  then  afterwards  his  voice  is  loud,  his 
talk  harsh,  his  answers  bitter  and  noisy, 
his  gait  lordly  and  capricious ;  his  tongue  too 
ready,  he  is  forward  in  conversation  and  no 
friend  to  silence  except  when  he  is  nursing  in 
his  heart  some  bitterness  against  a  brother, 
and  his  silence  denotes  not  compunction  or 
humility,  but  pride  and  wrath:  so  that  one 
can  hardly  say  which  is  the  more  objection- 
able in  him,  that  unrestrained  and  boisterous 
merriment,  or  this  dreadful  and  deadly  solem- 
nity.3 For  in  the  former  we  see  inopportune 
chattering,  light  and  frivolous  laughter,  unre- 
strained and  undisciplined  mirth.  In  the 
latter  a  silence  that  is  full  of  wrath  and  deadly; 
and  which  simply  arises  from  the  desire  to 
prolong  as  long  as  possible  the  rancorous 
feelings  which  are  nourished  in  silence  against 
some  brother,  and  not  from  the  wish  to  obtain 
from  it  the  virtues  of  humility  and  patience. 


1  Acts  xx.  35. 


2  Col.  iii.  5  ;   1  Tim.  vi.  10. 


3  Serietas  (Petschenig)  :    Taciturnitas  (Gaz^us). 


BOOK    XII. 


289 


And  as  the  man  who  is  a  victim  to  passion 
readily  makes  everybody  else  miserable  and  is 
ashamed  to  apologize  to  the  brother  whom  he 
has  wronged,  so  when  the  brother  offers  to  do 
so  to  him,  he  rejects  it  with  scorn.  And  not 
only  is  he  not  touched  or  softened  by  the  ad- 
vances of  his  brother ;  but  is  the  rather  made 
more  angry  because  his  brother  anticipates 
him  in  humility.  And  that  wholesome  hu- 
miliation and  apology,  which  generally  puts 
an  end  to  the  devil's  temptation,  becomes  to 
him  an  occasion  of  a  worse  outbreak. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

On  the  pride  of  a  certain  brother. 

I  have  heard  while  I  have  been  in  this  dis- 
trict a  thing  which  I  shudder  and  am  ashamed 
to  recall;  viz.,  that  one  of  the  juniors  —  when  he 
was  reproved  by  his  Abbot  because  he  had 
shown  signs  of  throwing  off  the  humility,  of 
which  he  had  made  trial  for  a  short  time  at 
his  renunciation  of  the  world,  and  of  being 
puffed  up  with  diabolical  pride  —  most  im- 
pertinently answered  "  Did  I  humiliate  myself 
for  a  time  on  purpose  to  be  always  in  subjec- 
tion? "  And  at  this  wanton  and  wicked  reply 
of  his  the  elder  was  utterly  aghast,  and  could 
say  nothing,  as  if  he  had  received  this  answer 
from  old  Lucifer  himself  and  not  from  a  man; 
so  that  he  could  not  possibly  utter  a  word 
against  such  impudence,  but  only  let  fall  sighs 
and  groans  from  his  heart;  turning  over  in 
silence  in  his  mind  that  which  is  said  of  our 
Saviour:  "Who  being  in  the  form  of  God 
humbled  Himself  and  became  obedient"  — 
not,  as  the  man  said  who  was  seized  with  a 
diabolical  spirit  of  pride,  "for  a  time,"  but 
"  even  to  death."  x 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 

The  signs  by  which  you  can  recognize  the  presence  of  carnal 
pride  in  a  soul. 

And  to  draw  together  briefly  what  has  been 
said  of  this  kind  of  pride,  by  collecting,  as  well 
as  we  can,  some  of  its  signs  that  we  may  some- 
how convey  to  those  who  are  thirsting  for  in- 
struction in  perfection,  an  idea  of  its  charac- 
teristics from  the  movements  of  the  outward 
man:  I  think  it  well  to  unfold  them  in  a  few 
words  that  we  may  conveniently  recognize  the 
signs  by  which  we  can  discern  and  detect  it, 
that  when  the  roots  of  this  passion  are  laid 
bare  and  brought  to  the  surface,  and  seen  and 

Phil.  ii.  6,  8. 


traced  out  with  ocular  demonstration,  they 
may  be  the  more  easily  plucked  up  and 
avoided.  For  only  then  will  this  most  pesti- 
lent evil  be  altogether  escaped,  and  if  we  do 
not  begin  too  late  in  the  day,  when  it  has 
already  got  the  mastery  over  us,  to  be  on  our 
guard  against  its  dangerous  heat  and  noxious 
influence,  but  if,  recognizing  its  symptoms 
(so  to  speak)  beforehand,  we  take  precautions 
against  it  with  wise  and  careful  forethought. 
For,  as  we  said  before,  you  can  tell  a  man's 
inward  condition  from  his  outward  gait.  By 
these  signs,  then,  that  carnal  pride,  of  which 
we  spoke  earlier,  is  shown.  To  begin  with, 
in  conversation  the  man's  voice  is  loud:  in 
his  silence  there  is  bitterness :  in  his  mirth 
his  laughter  is  noisy  and  excessive:  when  he 
is  serious  he  is  unreasonably  gloomy:  in  his 
answers  there  is  rancour :  he  is  too  free  with 
his  tongue,  his  words  tumbling  out  at  random 
without  being  weighed.  He  is  utterly  lacking 
in  patience,  and  without  charity :  impudent  in 
offering  insults  to  others,  faint-hearted  in 
bearing  them  himself:  troublesome  in  the 
matter  of  obedience  except  where  his  own 
wishes  and  likings  correspond  with  his  duty: 
unforgiving  in  receiving  admonition :  weak  in 
giving  up  his  own  wishes  :  very  stubborn  about 
yielding  to  those  of  others :  always  trying  to 
compass  his  own  ends,  and  never  ready  to 
give  them  up  for  others :  and  thus  the  result 
is  that  though  he  is  incapable  of  giving  sound 
advice,  yet  in  everything  he  prefers  his  own 
opinion  to  that  of  the  elders. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

How  when  a  man  has  grown  cold  through  pride  he  wants  to 
be  put  to  rule  other  people. 

And  when  a  man  whom  pride  has  mastered 
has  fallen  through  these  stages  of  descent,  he 
shudders  at  the  discipline  of  the  ccenobium, 
and — as  if  the  companionship  of  the  brethren 
hindered  his  perfection,  and  the  sins  of  others 
impeded  and  interfered  with  his  advance  in 
patience  and  humility  —  he  longs  to  take  up 
his  abode  in  a  solitary  cell ;  or  else  is  eager  to 
build  a  monastery  and  gather  together  some 
others  to  teach  and  instruct,  as  if  he  would  do 
good  to  many  more  people,  and  make  him- 
self from  being  a  bad  disciple  a  still  worse 
master.  For  when  through  this  pride  of  heart 
a  man  has  fallen  into  this  most  dangerous  and 
injurious  coldness,  he  can  neither  be  a  real 
monk  nor  a  man  of  the  world,  and  what  is 
worse,  promises  to  himself  to  gain  perfection 
by  means  of  this  wretched  state  and  manner 
of  life  of  his. 


290 


THE    INSTITUTES    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

How  we  can  overcome  pride  and  attain  perfection. 

Wherefore  if  we  wish  the  summit  of  our 
building  to  be  perfect  and  to  rise  well-pleas- 
ing to  God,  we  should  endeavour  to  lay  its 
foundations  not  in  accordance  with  the  desires 
of  our  own  lust,  but  according  to  the  rules 
of  evangelical  strictness :  which  can  only  be 
the  fear  of  God  and  humility,  proceeding  from 
kindness  and  simplicity  of  heart.  But  hu- 
mility cannot  possibly  be  acquired  without 
giving  up  everything :  and  as  long  as  a  man  is 
a  stranger  to  this,  he  cannot  possibly  attain 
the  virtue  of  obedience,  or  the  strength  of 
patience,  or  the  serenity  of  kindness,  or  the 
perfection  of  love ;  without  which  things  our 
hearts  cannot  possibly  be  a  habitation  for  the 
Holy  Spirit:  as  the  Lord  says  through  the 
prophet:  "  Upon  whom  shall  My  spirit  rest, 
but  on  him  that  is  humble  and  quiet  and  fears 
My  words, "  or  according  to  those  copies  which 
express  the  Hebrew  accurately:  "To  whom 
shall  I  have  respect,  but  to  him  that  is  poor 
and  little  and  of  a  contrite  spirit  and  that 
trembleth  at  My  words?"  1 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

How  pride  which  is  so  destructive  of  all  virtues  can  itself  be 
destroyed  by  true  humility. 

Wherefore  the  Christian  athlete  who 
strives  lawfully  in  the  spiritual  combat  and 
desires  to  be  crowned  by  the  Lord,  should 
endeavour  by  every  means  to  destroy  this  most 
fierce  beast,  which  is  destructive  of  all  virtues, 
knowing  that  as  long  as  this  remains  in  his 
breast  he  not  only  will  never  be  free  from  all 
kinds  of  evils,  but  even  if  he  seems  to  have 
any  good  qualities,  will  lose  them  by  its  ma- 
lign influence.  For  no  structure  (so  to  speak) 
of  virtue  can  possibly  be  raised  in  our  soul  un- 
less first  the  foundations  of  true  humility  are 

1  Is.  lxvi.  2.  It  is  noteworthy  that  Cassian  after  giving  a  render- 
ing which  differs  but  slightly  from  that  of  the  old  Latin,  as  given  in 
Sabbatier's  great  work,  adds  the  version  of  "those  copies  which 
express  the  Hebrew  accurately,"  and  thus  shows  his  acquaintance 
with  Jerome's  new  translation  which  he  quotes.  He  does  the  same 
thing  again  in  the  Conferences,  XXIII.  viii.;  and  On  the  Incarnation 
Against  Nestorius  IV.  iii. ;  V.  ii.  :  xv.  Compare  also  Institutes 
VIII.  xxi.,  and  Coilf.  VIII.  x.,  where  he  also  betrays  a  knowledge 
of  the  Vulgate.  As  a  general  rule,  however,  his  translations  are  taken 
from  the  old  Latin,  or  possiblv  in  some  cases  are  made  by  him  from 
the  LXX. 


laid  in  our  heart,  which  being  securely  laid 
may  be  able  to  bear  the  weight  of  perfection 
and  love  upon  them  in  such  a  way  that,  as  we 
have  said,  we  may  first  show  to  our  brethren 
true  humility  from  the  very  bottom  of  our 
heart,  in  nothing  acquiescing  in  making  them 
sad  or  in  injuring  them:  and  this  we  cannot 
possibly  manage  unless  true  self-denial,  which 
consists  in  stripping  and  depriving  ourselves 
of  all  our  possessions,  is  implanted  in  us  by 
the  love  of  Christ.  Next  the  yoke  of  obedience 
and  subjection  must  be  taken  up  in  simplicity 
of  heart  without  any  pretence,  so  that,  except 
for  the  commands  of  the  Abbot,  no  will  of  our 
own  is  alive  in  us.  But  this  can  only  be  en- 
sured in  the  case  of  one  who  considers  himself 
not  only  dead  to  this  world,  but  also  unwise 
and  a  fool ;  and  performs  without  any  discus- 
sion whatever  is  enjoined  him  by  his  seniors, 
believing  it  to  be  divine  and  enjoined  from 
heaven. 

CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

Remedies  against  the  evil  of  pride. 

And  when  men  remain  in  this  condition, 
there  is  no  doubt  that  this  quiet  and  secure 
state  of  humility  will  follow,  so  that  consider- 
ing ourselves  inferior  to  every  one  else  we  shall 
bear  everything  offered  to  us,  even  if  it  is 
hurtful,  and  saddening,  and  damaging  —  with 
the  utmost  patience,  as  if  it  came  from  those 
who  are  our  superiors.  And  these  things  we 
shall  not  only  bear  with  the  greatest  ease,  but 
we  shall  consider  them  trifling  and  mere 
nothings,  if  we  constantly  bear  in  mind  the 
passion  of  our  Lord  and  of  all  His  Saints: 
considering  that  the  injuries  by  which  we  are 
tried  are  so  much  less  than  theirs,  as  we  are 
so  far  behind  their  merits  and  their  lives: 
remembering  also  that  we  shall  shortly  depart 
out  of  this  world,  and  soon  by  a  speedy  end 
to  our  life  here  become  sharers  of  their  lot. 
For  considerations  such  as  these  are  a  sure 
end  not  only  to  pride  but  to  all  kinds  of  sins. 
Then,  next  after  this  we  must  keep  a  firm  grasp 
of  this  same  humility  towards  God:  which  we 
must  so  secure  as  not  only  to  acknowledge 
that  we  cannot  possibly  perform  anything  con- 
nected with  the  attainment  of  perfect  virtue 
without  His  assistance  and  grace,  but  also 
truly  to  believe  that  this  very  fact  that  we  can 
understand  this,  is  His  own  gift. 


THE   CONFERENCES   OF   JOHN    CASSIAN 

PART  I. 

CONTAINING  CONFERENCES   l-X. 


PREFACE. 


The  obligation,  which  was  promised  to  the  blessed  Pope  Castor  in  the  preface  to  those 
volumes  which  with  God's  help  I  composed  in  twelve  books  on  the  Institutes  of  the  Cceno- 
bia,  and  the  remedies  for  the  eight  principal  faults,  has  now  been,  as  far  as  my  feeble  ability 
permitted,  satisfied.  I  should  certainly  like  to  see  what  was  the  opinion  fairly  arrived  at  on 
this  work  both  by  his  judgment  and  yours,  whether,  on  a  matter  so  profound  and  so  lofty, 
and  one  which  has  never  yet  been  made  the  subject  of  a  treatise,  we  have  produced  anything 
worthy  of  your  notice,  and  of  the  eager  desire  of  all  the  holy  brethren.  But  now  as  the  afore- 
said Bishop  has  left  us  and  departed  to  Christ,  meanwhile  these  ten  Conferences  of  the  grand- 
est of  the  fathers,  viz.,  the  Anchorites  who  dwelt  in  the  desert  of  Scete,  which  he,  fired  with 
an  incomparable  desire  for  saintliness,  had  bidden  me  write  for  him  in  the  same  style  (not 
considering  in  tha  greatness  of  his  affection,  what  a  burden  he  placed  on  shoulders  too  weak 
to  bear  it)  — these  Conferences  I  have  thought  good  to  dedicate  to  you  in  particular,  O  blessed 
Pope,  :  Leontius,  2  and  holy  brother  Helladius.3  For  one  of  you  was  united  to  him  whom  I 
have  mentioned,  by  the  ties  of  brotherhood,  and  the  rank  of  the  priesthood,  and  (what  is 
more  to  the  point)  by  fervour  in  sacred  study,  and  so  has  an  hereditary  right  to  demand 
the  debt  due  to  his  brother:  while  the  other  has  ventured  to  follow  the  sublime  customs  of 
the  Anchorites,  not  like  some  others,  presumptuously  on  his  own  account,  but  seizing,  at  the 
inspiration  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  on  the  right  path  of  doctrine  almost  before  he  had  been  taught 
and  choosing  to  learn  not  so  much  from  his  own  ideas  as  from  their  traditions.  Wherein 
just  as  I  had  anchored  in  the  harbour  of  Silence,  a  wide  sea  opens  out  before  me,  so  that  I 
must  venture  to  hand  down  for  posterity  some  of  the  Institutes  and  teaching  of  these  great  men. 
For  the  bark  of  my  slender  abilities  will  be  exposed  to  the  dangers  of  a  longer  voyage  on  the 
deep,  in  proportion  as  the  Anchorite's  life  is  grander  than  that  of  the  Ccenobium,  and  the  con- 
templation of  God,  to  which  those  inestimable  men  ever  devoted  themselves,  more  sublime 
than  ordinary  practical  life.  It  is  yours  therefore  to  assist  our  efforts  by  your  pious  prayers 
for  fear  lest  so  sacred  a  subject  that  is  to  be  treated  in  an  untried  but  faithful  manner,  should 
be  imperilled  by  us,  or  lest  our  simplicity  should  lose  itself  in  the  depths  of  the  subject 
matter.  Let  us  therefore  pass  from  what  is  visible  to  the  eye  and  the  external  mode  of  life  of 
the  monks,  of  which  we  treated  in  the  former  books,  to  the  life  of  the  inner  man,  which  is 
hidden  from  view;  and  from  the  system  of  the  canonical  prayers,  let  our  discourse  mount  to 
that  continuance  in  unceasing  prayer,  which  the  Apostle  enjoins,  that  whoever  has  through 
reading  our  former  work  already  spiritually  gained  the  name  of  Jacob  by  ousting  his  car- 
nal faults,  may  now  by  the  reception  of  the  Institutes  which  are  not  mine  but  the  fathers', 
mount  by  a    pure  insight  to  the  merits  and  (so  to   speak)  the   dignity  of  Israel,  and   in   the 

1  Papa.     See  note  on  the  Preface  to  the  Institutes. 

2  The  see  of  which  Leontius  was  Bishop  is  uncertain,  possibly  Frejus. 

3  Helladius  was  afterwards  raised  to  the  Episcopate,  but  of  what  see  is  unknown.     See  the  Preface  to  Conf.  XVIII. 

^93 


294  PREFACE. 

same  way  be  taught  what  it  is  that  he  should  observe  on  these  lofty  heights  of  perfection.1 
And  so  may  your  prayers  gain  from  Him,  Who  has  deemed  us  worthy  both  to  see  them  and  to 
learn  from  them  and  to  dwell  with  them,  that  He  will  vouchsafe  to  grant  us  a  perfect  recol- 
lection of  their  teaching,  and  a  ready  tongue  to  tell  it,  that  we  may  explain  them  as 
beautifully  and  as  exactly  as  we  received  them  from  them  and  may  succeed  in  setting  before 
you  the  men  themselves  incorporated,  as  it  were,  in  their  own  Institutes,  and  what  is  more  to 
the  point,  speaking  in  the  Latin  tongue.  Of  this  however  we  wish  above  all  to  advertise  the 
reader  of  these  Conferences  as  well  as  of  our  earlier  works,  that  if  there  chances  to  be  any- 
thing herein  which  by  reason  of  his  condition  and  the  character  of  his  profession,  or  owing 
to  custom  and  the  common  mode  of  life  seems  to  him  either  impossible  or  very  difficult,  he 
should  measure  it  not  by  the  limits  of  his  own  powers  but  by  the  worth  and  perfection  of 
the  speakers,  whose  zeal  and  purpose  he  should  first  consider,  as  they  were  truly  dead  to 
this  worldly  life,  and  so  hampered  by  no  feelings  for  their  kinsmen  according  to  the  flesh, 
and  by  no  ties  of  worldly  occupations.  Next  let  him  bear  in  mind  the  character  of  the  country 
in  which  they  dwelt,  how  they  lived  in  a  vast  desert,  and  were  cut  off  from  intercourse 
with  all  their  fellow-men,  and  thus  were  able  to  have  their  minds  enlightened,  and  to  con- 
template, and  utter  those  things  which  perhaps  will  seem  impossibilities  to  the  uninitiated 
and  uninstructed,  because  of  their  way  of  life  and  the  commonplace  character  of  their  habits. 
But  if  any  one  wants  to  give  a  true  opinion  on  this  matter,  and  is  anxious  to  try  whether 
such  perfection  can  be  attained,  let  him  first  endeavour  to  make  their  purpose  his  own,  with 
the  same  zeal  and  the  same  mode  of  life,  and  then  in  the  end  he  will  find  that  those  things 
which  used  to  seem  beyond  the  powers  of  men,  are  not  only  possible,  but  really  delightful. 
But  now  let  us  proceed  at  once  to  their  Conferences  and  Institutes. 

1  The  allusion  is  rather  forced  and  strained.  But  Cassian  means  to  say  that  those  who  have  got  the  better  of  their  carnal  sins  by 
perusing'his  former  work,  are  already  fit  to  be  named  Jacob  (the  supplanter),  who  got  the  better  of  his  brother:  and  he  hopes  that 
this  new  work  of  his  will  give  them  such  a  view  of  God  and  insight  into  His  dealings  that  they  may  be  worthy  to  have  their  name 
changed,  as  Jacob's  was,  to  Israel,  which  he  takes  to  mean  the  man  seeing  God.  Cf.  the  note  on  Against  Nestorius,  VII.  ix.  (intelligi- 
bilis  here  =  spiritualis,  cf.  iutellectualis.     Conf.   XII.  xi.,  and  elsewhere). 


CASSIAN'S   CONFERENCES. 


FIRST  CONFERENCE   OF  ABBOT  MOSES. 


Of  our  stay  in  Scete,  and  that  which  we  proposed  to  Abbot 
Moses. 

When  I  was  in  the  desert  of  Scete,  where 
are  the  most  excellent  monastic  fathers  and 
where  all  perfection  flourishes,  in  company 
with  the  holy  father  Germanus  (who  had  since 
the  earliest  days  and   commencement   of  our 


CHAPTER    I.  own,  on  which  the  diligent  pursuer  of  each  art 

has  his  eye,  and  so  endures  all  sorts  of  toils 
and  dangers  and  losses,  cheerfully  and  with 
equanimity,  e.g.,  the  farmer,  shunning  nei- 
ther at  one  time  the  scorching  heat  of  the  sun, 
nor  at  another  the  frost  and  cold,  cleaves  the 
earth  unweariedly,  and  again  and  again  sub- 
jects the  clods  of  his  field  to  his  ploughshare, 
while  he  keeps  before  him  his  goal;  viz.,  by 

spiritual  service  been  my  closest  companion  !  dilifent  \abou'  to  break  '*  JP.  sma11  \ike  fine 
both  in  the  ccenobium  and  in  the  desert,  so  !  f nd'  and  to  clear  lt  of  a11  bners'  and  free   xt 


that  to  show  the  harmony  of  our  friendship 
and  aims,  everybody  would  say  that  a  single 
heart  and  soul  existed  in  our  two  bodies),  I 
sought  out  Abbot  Moses,1  who  was  eminent 
amid  those  splendid  flowers,  not  only  in  practi- 
cal but  also  in  contemplative  excellence,  in 
my  anxiety  to  be  grounded  by  his  instruction : 
and  together  we  implored  him  to  give  us  a  dis- 
course for  our  edification ;  not  without  tears, 
for  we  knew  full  well  his  determination  never 
to  consent  to  open  the  gate  of  perfection,  ex 


from  all  weeds,  as  he  believes  that  in  no 
other  way  can  he  gain  his  ultimate  end,  which 
is  to  secure  a  good  harvest,  and  a  large  crop ; 
on  which  he  can  either  live  himself  free  from 
care,  or  can  increase  his  possessions.  Again, 
when  his  barn  is  well  stocked  he  is  quite 
ready  to  empty  it,  and  with  incessant  labour 
to  commit  the  seed  to  the  crumbling  furrow, 
thinking  nothing  of  the  present  lessening  of 
his  stores  in  view  of  the  future  harvest.  Those 
men  too  who  are  engaged  in  mercantile  pur- 


cept  to  those  who  desired  it  with  all  faithful-  j  suks'  havJ  £°  dread  of  *%  uncertainties  and 


ness,  and  sought  it  with  all  sorrow  of  heart; 
for  fear  lest  if  he  showed  it  at  random  to 
those  who  cared  nothing  for  it,  or  only  desired 
it  in  a  half-hearted  way,  by  opening  what  is 
necessary,  and  what  ought  only  to  be  discov- 
ered to  those  seeking  perfection,  to  unworthy 
persons,  and  such  as  accepted  it  with  scorn,  he 
might  appear  to  lay  himself  open  either  to  the 
charge  of  bragging,  or  to  the  sin  of  betraying 
his  trust;  and  at  last  being  overcome  by  our 
prayers  he  thus  began. 

CHAPTER    II. 

Of  the  question  of  Abbot  Moses,  who  asked  what  was  the  goal 
and  what  the  end  of  the  monk. 

All  the  arts  and  sciences,  said  he,   have 
some  goal  or  mark;  and  end  or  aim  of  their 


1  On  this  Moses  see  the  note  on  the  Institutes,  Book  X.  xxv. 


chances  of  the  ocean,  and  fear  no  risks,  while 
an  eager  hope  urges  them  forward  to  their  aim 
of  gain.  Moreover  those  who  are  inflamed  with 
the  ambition  of  military  life,  while  they  look 
forward  to  their  aim  of  honours  and  power  take 
no  notice  of  danger  and  destruction  in  their 
wanderings,  and  are  not  crushed  by  present 
losses  and  wars,  while  they  are  eager  to  obtain 
the  end  of  some  honour  held  out  to  them. 
And  our  profession  too  has  its  own  goal  and 
end,  for  which  we  undergo  all  sorts  of  toils 
not  merely  without  weariness  but  actually 
with  delight;  on  account  of  which  the  want  of 
food  in  fasting  is  no  trial  to  us,  the  weariness 
of  our  vigils  becomes  a  delight;  reading  and 
constant  meditation  on  the  Scriptures  does  not 
pall  upon  us;  and  further  incessant  toil,  and 
self-denial,  and  the  privation  of  all  things, 
and  the  horrors  also  of  this  vast  desert  have 
no  terrors  for  us.  And  doubtless  for  this  it 
was  that  you  yourselves  despised  the  love  of 


=95 


296 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


kinsfolk,  and  scorned  your  fatherland,  and 
the  delights  of  this  world,  and  passed  through 
so  many  countries,  in  order  that  you  might 
come  to  us,  plain  and  simple  folk  as  we  are, 
living  in  this  wretched  state  in  the  desert. 
Wherefore,  said  he,  answer  and  tell  me  what 
is  the  goal  and  end,  which  incite  you  to  en- 
dure all  these  things  so  cheerfully. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Of  our  reply. 

And  when  he  insisted  on  eliciting  an  opinion 
from  us  on  this  question,  we  replied  that  we 
endured  all  this  for  the  sake  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

Of  Abbot  Moses'  question  on  the  aforesaid  statement. 

To  which  he  replied:  Good,  you  have  spo- 
ken cleverly  of  the  (ultimate)  end.  But  what 
should  be  our  (immediate)  goal  or  mark,  by 
constantly  sticking  close  to  which  we  can  gain 
our  end,  you  ought  first  to  know.  And  when 
we  frankly  confessed  our  ignorance,  he  pro- 
ceeded: The  first  thing,  as  I  said,  in  all  the 
arts  and  sciences  is  to  have  some  goal,  i.e., 
a  mark  for  the  mind,  and  constant  mental 
purpose,  for  unless  a  man  keeps  this  before 
him  with  all  diligence  and  persistence,  he 
will  never  succeed  in  arriving  at  the  ultimate 
aim  and  the  gain  which  he  desires.  For,  as 
I  said,  the  farmer  who  has  for  his  aim  to  live 
free  from  care  and  with  plenty,  while  his  crops 
are  springing  has  this  as  his  immediate  object 
and  goal;  viz.,  to  keep  his  field  clear  from  all 
brambles,  and  weeds,  and  does  not  fancy  that 
he  can  otherwise  ensure  wealth  and  a  peace- 
ful end,  unless  he  first  secures  by  some  plan 
of  work  and  hope  that  which  he  is  anxious  to 
obtain.  The  business  man  too  does  not  lay 
aside  the  desire  of  procuring  wares,  by  means 
of  which  he  may  more  profitably  amass  riches, 
because  he  would  desire  gain  to  no  purpose, 
unless* he  chose  the  road  which  leads  to  it: 
and  those  men  who  are  anxious  to  be  deco- 
rated with  the  honours  of  this  world,  first 
make  up  their  minds  to  what  duties  and  con- 
ditions they  must  devote  themselves,  that  in 
the  regular  course  of  hope  they  may  succeed 
in  gaining  the  honours  they  desire.  And  so 
the  end  of  our  way  of  life  is  indeed  the  kingdom 
of  God.  But  what  is  the  (immediate)  goal  you 
must  earnestly  ask,  for  if  it  is  not  in  the  same 
way  discovered  by  us,  we  shall  strive  and 
wear  ourselves  out  to  no  purpose,  because  a 


man  who  is  travelling  in  a  wrong  direction,  has 
all  the  trouble  and  gets  none  of  the  good  of 
his  journey.  And  when  we  stood  gaping  at 
this  remark,  the  old  man  proceeded:  The 
end  of  our  profession  indeed,  as  I  said,  is 
the  kingdom  of  God  or  the  kingdom  of  heaven : 
but  the  immediate  aim  or  goal,  is  purity  of 
heart,  without  which  no  one  can  gain  that 
end :  fixing  our  gaze  then  steadily  on  this  goal, 
as  if  on  a  definite  mark,  let  us  direct  our 
course  as  straight  towards  it  as  possible,  and 
if  our  thoughts  wander  somewhat  from  this, 
let  us  revert  to  our  gaze  upon  it,  and  check 
them  accurately  as  by  a  sure  standard,  which 
will  always  bring  back  all  our  efforts  to  this 
one  mark,  and  will  show  at  once  if  our  mind 
has  wandered  ever  so  little  from  the  direc- 
tion marked  out  for  it. 


CHAPTER   V. 

A  comparison  with  a  man  who  is  trying  to  hit  a  mark. 

As  those,  whose  business  it  is  to  use  wea- 
pons of  war,  whenever  they  want  to  show  their 
skill  in  their  art  before  a  king  of  this  world, 
try  to  shoot  their  arrows  or  darts  into  certain 
small  targets  which  have  the  prizes  painted 
on  them  ;  for  they  know  that  they  cannot  in  any 
other  way  than  by  the  line  of  their  aim  se- 
cure the  end  and  the  prize  they  hope  for, 
which  they  will  only  then  enjoy  when  they 
have  been  able  to  hit  the  mark  set  before 
them;  but  if  it  happens  to  be  withdrawn  from 
their  sight,  however  much  in  their  want  of 
skill  their  aim  may  vainly  deviate  from  the 
straight  path,  yet  they  cannot  perceive  that 
they  have  strayed  from  the  direction  of  the 
intended  straight  line  because  they  have  no 
distinct  mark  to  prove  the  skilfulness  of  their 
aim,  or  to  show  up  its  badness:  and  therefore 
while  they  shoot  their  missiles  idly  into  space, 
they  cannot  see  how  they  have  gone  wrong  or 
how  utterly  at  fault  they  are,  since  no  mark  is 
their  accuser,  showing  how  far  they  have  gone 
astray  from  the  right  direction;  nor  can  an 
unsteady  look  help  them  to  correct  and  restore 
the  straight  line  enjoined  on  them.  So  then 
the  end  indeed  which  we  have  set  before  us  is, 
as  the  Apostle  says,  eternal  life,  as  he  declares, 
"having  indeed  your  fruit  unto  holiness,  and 
the  end  eternal  life;"1  but  the  immediate 
goal  is  purity  of  heart,  which  he  not  unfairly 
terms  "  sanctification, :'  without  which  the 
afore-mentioned  end  cannot  be  gained;  as  if 
he  had  said  in  other  words,  having  your  im- 
mediate goal  in  purity  of  heart,  but  the  end 

1  Rom.  vi.  22. 


FIRST   CONFERENCE   OF    ABBOT    MOSES. 


297 


life  eternal.  Of  which  goal  the  same  blessed 
Apostle  teaches  us,  and  significantly  uses  the 
very  term,  i.e.,  oxonuc,  saying  as  follows, 
"  Forgetting  those  things  which  are  behind  and 
reaching  forward  to  those  that  are  before, 
I  press  toward  the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the 
high  calling  of  the  Lord:  "  l  which  is  more 
clearly  put  in  Greek  xar&  axonbv  diw-/.o>,  i.e.,  "  I 
press  toward  the  mark,"  as  if  he  said,  "With 
this  aim,  with  which  I  forget  those  things  that 
are  behind,  i.e.,  the  faults  of  earlier  life,  I 
strive  to  reach  as  the  end  the  heavenly  prize. " 
Whatever  then  can  help  to  guide  us  to  this 
object;  viz.,  purity  of  heart,  we  must  follow 
with  all  our  might,  but  whatever  hinders  us 
from  it,  we  must  shun  as  a  dangerous  and 
hurtful  thing.  For,  for  this  we  do  and  endure 
all  things,  for  this  we  make  light  of  our  kins- 
folk, our  country,  honours,  riches,  the  delights 
of  this  world,  and  all  kinds  of  pleasures, 
namely  in  order  that  we  may  retain  a  lasting 
purity  of  heart.  And  so  when  this  object  is 
set  before  us,  we  shall  always  direct  our 
actions  and  thoughts  straight  towards  the 
attainment  of  it;  for  if  it  be  not  constantly 
fixed  before  our  eyes,  it  will  not  only  make 
all  our  toils  vain  and  useless,  and  force  them 
to  be  endured  to  no  purpose  and  without  any 
reward,  but  it  will  also  excite  all  kinds  of 
thoughts  opposed  to  one  another.  For  the 
mind,  which  has  no  fixed  point  to  which  it  may 
return,  and  on  which  it  may  chiefly  fasten, 
is  sure  to  rove  about  from  hour  to  hour  and 
minute  to  minute  in  all  sorts  of  wandering 
thoughts,  and  from  those  things  which  come 
to  it  from  outside,  to  be  constantly  changed 
into  that  state  which  first  offers  itself  to  it. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Of  those  who  in  renouncing  the  world,  aim  at  perfection  with- 
out love. 

For  hence  it  arises  that  in  the  case  of 
some  who  have  despised  the  greatest  posses- 
sions of  this  world,  and  not  only  large  sums  of 
gold  and  silver,  but  also  large  properties,  we 
have  seen  them  afterwards  disturbed  and  ex- 
cited over  a  knife,  or  pencil,  or  pin,  or  pen. 
Whereas  if  they  kept  their  gaze  steadily  fixed 
out  of  a  pure  heart  they  would  certainly  never 
allow  such  a  thing  to  happen  for  trifles,  while 
in  order  that  they  might  not  suffer  it  in  the  case 
of  great  and  precious  riches  they  chose  rather  to 
renounce  them  altogether.  For  often  too  some 
guard  their  books  so  jealously  that  they  will 
not  allow  them  to  be  even  slightly  moved  or 
touched  by  any  one  else,  and  from  this  fact 

1   Phil.  iii.  13,   14. 


they  meet  with  occasions  of  impatience  and 
death,  which  give  them  warning  of  the  need  of 
acquiring  the  requisite  patience  and  love;  and 
when  they  have  given  up  all  their  wealth  for 
the  love  of  Christ,  yet  as  they  preserve  their 
former  disposition  in  the  matter  of  trifles,  and 
are  sometimes  quickly  upset  about  them,  they 
become  in  all  points  barren  and  unfruitful,  as 
those  who  are  without  the  charity  of  which  the 
Apostle  speaks :  and  this  the  blessed  Apostle 
foresaw  in  spirit,  and  "though,"  says  he,  "I 
give  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and  give 
my  body  to  be  burned,  but  have  not  charity, 
it  profiteth  me  nothing."  2  And  from  this  it 
clearly  follows  that  perfection  is  not  arrived  at 
simply  by  self-denial,  and  the  giving  up  of  all 
our  goods,  and  the  casting  away  of  honours, 
unless  there  is  that  charity,  the  details  of 
which  the  Apostle  describes,  which  consists 
in  purity  of  heart  alone.  For  "not  to  be 
envious,"  "not  to  be  puffed  up,  not  to  be 
angry,  not  to  do  any  wrong,  not  to  seek  one's 
own,  not  to  rejoice  in  iniquity,  not  to  think 
evil,"  etc.,  what  is  all  this  except  ever  to 
offer  to  God  a  perfect  and  clean  heart,  and  to 
keep  it  free  from  all  disturbances? 


CHAPTER   VII. 

How  peace  of  mind  should  be  sought. 

Everything  should  be  done  and  sought  after 
by  us  for  the  sake  of  this.  For  this  we  must 
seek  for  solitude,  for  this  we  know  that  we 
ought  to  submit  to  fastings,  vigils,  toils,  bodily 
nakedness,  reading,  and  all  other  virtues  that 
through  them  we  may  be  enabled  to  prepare 
our  heart  and  to  keep  it  unharmed  by  all  evil 
passions,  and  resting  on  these  steps  to  mount 
to  the  perfection  of  charity,  and  with  regard  to 
these  observances,  if  by  accident  we  have  been 
employed  in  some  good  and  useful  occupation 
and  have  been  unable  to  carry  out  our  custom- 
ary discipline,  we  should  not  be  overcome 
by  vexation  or  anger,  or  passion,  with  the  ob- 
ject of  overcoming  which,  we  were  going  to  do 
that  which  we  have  omitted.  For  the  gain 
from  fasting  will  not  balance  the  loss  from 
anger,  nor  is  the  profit  from  reading  so  great 
as  the  harm  which  results  from  despising  a 
brother.  Those  things  which  are  of  secondary 
importance,  such  as  fastings,  vigils,  with- 
drawal from  the  world,  meditation  on  Scrip- 
ture, we  ought  to  practise  with  a  view  to  our 
main  object,  i.e.,  purity  of  heart,  which  is 
charity,  and  we  ought  not  on  their  account  to 
drive  away  this  main  virtue,  for  as  long  as  it 
is  still  found  in  us  intact  and  unharmed,  we 

2  1  Cor.  xiii.  3. 


298 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


shall  not  be  hurt  if  any  of  the  things  which 
are  of  secondary  importance  are  necessarily 
omitted;  since  it  will  not  be  of  the  slightest 
use  to  have  done  everything,  if  this  main 
reason  of  which  we  have  spoken  be  removed, 
for  the  sake  of  which  everything  is  to  be  done. 
For  on  this  account  one  is  anxious  to  secure 
and  provide  for  one's  self  the  implements  for 
any  branch  of  work,  not  simply  to  possess  them 
to  no  purpose,  nor  as  if  one  made  ihe  profit 
and  advantage,  which  is  looked  for  from  them, 
to  consist  in  the  bare  fact  of  possession  but 
that  by  using  them,  one  may  effectually  secure 
practical  knowledge  and  the  end  of  that  par- 
ticular art  of  which  they  are  auxiliaries. 
Therefore  fastings,  vigils,  meditation  on  the 
Scriptures,  self-denial,  and  the  abnegation  of 
all  possesions  are  not  perfection,  but  aids  to 
perfection :  because  the  end  of  that  science 
does  not  lie  in  these,  but  by  means  of  these  we 
arrive  at  the  end.  He  then  will  practise  these 
exercises  to  no  purpose,  who  is  contented 
with  these  as  if  they  were  the  highest  good, 
and  has  fixed  the  purpose  of  his  heart  simply 
on  them,  and  does  not  extend  his  efforts 
towards  reaching  the  end,  on  account  of  which 
these  should  be  sought :  for  he  possesses  in- 
deed the  implements  of  his  art,  but  is  igno- 
rant of  the  end,  in  which  all  that  is  valuable 
resides.  Whatever  then  can  disturb  that  pu- 
rity and  peace  of  mind  —  even  though  it  may 
seem  useful  and  valuable  — should  be  shunned 
as  really  hurtful,  for  by  this  rule  Ave  shall  suc- 
ceed in  escaping  harm  from  mistakes  and  va- 
garies, and  make  straight  for  the  desired  end 
and  reach  it. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

Of  the  main  effort  towards  the  contemplation  of  heavenly 
things  and  an  illustration  from  the  case  of  Martha  and 
Mary. 

This  then  should  be  our  main  effort:  and 
this  steadfast  purpose  of  heart  we  should  con- 
stantly aspire  after;  viz.,  that  the  soul  may 
ever  cleave  to  God  and  to  heavenly  things. 
Whatever  is  alien  to  this,  however  great  it 
may  be,  should  be  given  the  second  place,  or 
even  treated  as  of  no  consequence,  or  perhaps 
as  hurtful.  We  have  an  excellent  illustration 
of  this  state  of  mind  and  condition  in  the  gos- 
pel in  the  case  of  Martha  and  Mary :  for  when 
Martha  was  performing  a  seryice  that  was  cer- 
tainly a  sacred  one,  since  she  was  ministering 
to  the  Lord  and  His  disciples,  and  Mary  being 
intent  only  on  spiritual  instruction  was  cling- 
ing close  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  which  she  kissed 
and  anointed  with  the  ointment  of  a  good  con- 
fession, she  is  shown  by  the  Lord  to  have 
chosen  the  better  part,  and  one  which  should 


not  be  taken  away  from  her :  for  when  Martha 
was  toiling  with  pious  care,  and  was  cumbered 
about  her  service,  seeing  that  of  herself  alone 
she  was  insufficient  for  such  service  she 
asks  for  the  help  of  her  sister  from  the  Lord, 
saying :  "  Carest  Thou  not  that  my  sister  has 
left  me  to  serve  alone :  bid  her  therefore  that 
she  help  me" —  certainly  it  was  to  no  unworthy 
work,  but  to  a  praiseworthy  service  that  she 
summoned  her:  and  yet  what  does  she  hear 
from  the  Lord?  "Martha,  Martha,  thou  art 
anxious  and  troubled  about  many  things :  but 
few  things  are  needful,  or  only  one.  Mary 
hath  chosen  the  good  part,  which  shall  not  be 
taken  away  from  her. ' ' x  You  see  then  that  the 
Lord  makes  the  chief  good  consist  in  medita- 
tion, i.e.,  in  divine  contemplation:  whence  we 
see  that  all  other  virtues  should  be  put  in  the 
second  place,  even  though  we  admit  that  they 
are  necessary,  and  useful,  and  excellent,  be- 
cause they  are  all  performed  for  the  sake  of 
this  one  thing.  For  when  the  Lord  says : 
"Thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many 
things,  but  few  things  are  needful  or  only 
one,"  He  makes  the  chief  good  consist  not  in 
practical  work  however  praiseworthy  and  rich 
in  fruits  it  may  be,  but  in  contemplation  of 
Him,  which  indeed  is  simple  and  "but  one  "; 
declaring  that  "few  things"  are  needful  for 
perfect  bliss,  i.e.,  that  contemplation  which  is 
first  secured  by  reflecting  on  a  few  saints :  from 
the  contemplation  of  whom,  he  who  has  made 
some  progress  rises  and  attains«by  God's  help 
to  that  which  is  termed  "one  thing,"  i.e.,  the 
consideration  of  God  alone,  so  as  to  get  beyond 
those  actions  and  services  of  saints,  and  feed 
on  the  beauty  and  knowledge  of  God  alone. 
"  Mary"  therefore  "chose  the  good  part,  which 
shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her."  And  this 
must  be  more  carefully  considered.  For  when 
He  says  that  Mary  chose  the  good  part,  al- 
though He  says  nothing  of  Martha,  and  cer- 
tainly does  not  appear  to  blame  her,  yet  in 
praising  the  one,  He  implies  that  the  other  is 
inferior.  Again  when  He  says  "which  shall 
not  be  taken  away  from  her  ' '  He  shows  that 
from  the  other  her  portion  can  be  taken  away 
(for  a  bodily  ministry  cannot  last  forever  with 
a  man),  but  teaches  that  this  one's  desire  can 
never  have  an  end. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

A  question  how  it  is  that  the  practice  of  virtue  cannot  remain 
with  a  man. 

To  which  we,  being  deeply  moved,  replied 
what  then?    will  the   effort  of  fasting,    dili- 


1  S.  Luke  x.  40-42.     The  reading  which  Cassian  here  follows  is 
found  in    NBC,2  but  has  not   much    Latin   authority.     It  is  however 


FIRST  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  MOSES. 


299 


gence  in  reading,  works  of  mercy,  justice, 
piety,  and  kindness,  be  taken  away  from  us, 
and  not  continue  with  the  doers  of  them,  es- 
pecially since  the  Lord  Himself  promises  the 
reward  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  these 
works,  when  He  says:  "Come,  ye  blessed  of 
My  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for 
you  from  the  beginning  of  the  world.  For  I 
was  an  hungred,  and  ye  gave  Me  to  eat;  I  was 
thirsty  and  ye  gave  Me  to  drink :  "  etc.  x  How 
then  shall  these  works  be  taken  away,  which 
admit  the  doers  of  them  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  ? 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  answer  that  not  the  reward,  but  the  doing  of  them  will 
come  to  an  end. 

Moses.  I  did  not  say  that  the  reward  for 
a  good  work  would  be  taken  away,  as  the  Lord 
Himself  says:  "Whosoever  shall  give  to  one 
of  the  least  of  these,  a  cup  of  cold  water  only 
in  the  name  of  a  disciple,  verily  I  say  unto 
you,  he  shall  not  lose  his  reward:"  2  but  I 
maintain  that  the  doing  of  a  thing,  which 
either  bodily  necessity,  or  the  onslaught  of  the 
flesh,  or  the  inequalities  of  this  world,  com- 
pel to  be  done,  will  be  taken  away.  For  dili- 
gence in  reading,  and  self-denial  in  fasting, 
are  usefully  practised  for  purifying  the  heart 
and  chastening  the  flesh  in  this  life  only,  as 
long  as  "the  flesh  lusteth  against  the  spirit,"3 
and  sometimes  we  see  that  even  in  this  life 
they  are  taken  away  from  those  men  who  are 
worn  out  with  excessive  toil,  or  bodily  infirm- 
ity or  old  age,  and  cannot  be  practised  by 
them.  How  much  more  then  will  they  come 
to  an  end  hereafter,  when  "this  corruptible 
shall  have  put  on  incorruption," 4  and  the 
body  which  is  now  "  a  natural  body  "  shall  have 
risen  "  a  spiritual  body  "  5  and  the  flesh  shall 
have  begun  to  be  such  that  it  no  longer  lusts 
against  the  spirit?  And  of  this  the  blessed 
Apostle  also  clearly  speaks,  when  he  says  that 
"  bodily  exercise  is  profitable  for  a  little:  but 
godliness  "  (by  which  he  certainly  means  love) 
"  is  profitable  for  all  things,  having  the  promise 
of  the  life  that  now  is  and  of  that  which  is  to 
come."  6  This  clearly  shows  that  what  is  said 
to  be  useful  for  a  little,  is  not  to  be  practised 
for  all  time,  and  cannot  possibly  by  itself 
alone  confer  the  highest  state  of  perfection  on 
the  man  who  slaves  at  it.  For  the  term  "for 
a  little  "  may  mean  either  of  the  two  things, 


followed  by  Jerome  Ep  :  ad  Eustochium,  xxii.  24,  though  the  Vul- 
gate has  simply  Porro  unum  est  necessarium.  For  Mary  as  the  type 
of  the  contemplative  life,  and  Martha  of  the  practical,  compare  S. 
Gregory  the  Great.     Moralia  VI.  c.  xxviii. 

1  S.  Matt.  xxv.  34,  35.  3  Gal.  v.  17.  G  1  Cor.  xv.  44. 

2  S.  Matt.  x.  42.  *  1  Cor.  xv.  53.         °  1  Tim.  iv.  8. 


i.e.,  it  may  refer  to  the  shortness  of  the  time, 
because  bodily  exercise  cannot  possibly  last 
on  with  man  both  in  this  life  and  in  the  world 
to  come :  or  it  may  refer  to  the  smallness  of 
the  profit  which  results  from  exercising  the 
flesh,  because  bodily  austerities  produce  some 
sort  of  beginnings  of  progress,  but  not  the 
actual  perfection  of  love,  which  has  the  prom- 
ise of  the  life  that  now  is  and  of  that  which 
is  to  come :  and  therefore  we  deem  that  the 
practice  of  the  aforesaid  works  is  needful, 
because  without  them  we  cannot  climb  the 
heights  of  love.  For  what  you  call  works  of 
religion  and  mercy  are  needful  in  this  life 
while  these  inequalities  and  differences  of 
conditions  still  prevail ;  but  even  here  we 
should  not  look  for  them  to  be  performed,  un- 
less such  a  large  proportion  of  poor,  needy, 
and  sick  folk  abounded,  which  is  brought 
about  by  the  wickedness  of  men ;  viz.,  of  those 
who  have  grasped  and  kept  for  their  own  use 
(without  however  using  them)  those  things 
which  were  granted  to  all  by  the  Creator  of  all 
alike.  As  long  then  as  this  inequality  lasts  in 
this  world,  this  sort  of  work  will  be  needful 
and  useful  to  the  man  that  practises  it,  as  it 
brings  to  a  good  purpose  and  pious  will  the 
reward  of  an  eternal  inheritance :  but  it  will 
come  to  an  end  in  the  life  to  come,  where 
equality  will  reign,  when  there  will  be  no 
longer  inequality,  on  account  of  which  these 
things  must  be  done,  but  all  men  will  pass 
from  these  manifold  practical  works  to  the 
love  of  God,  and  contemplation  of  heavenly 
things  in  continual  purity  of  heart :  to  which 
those  men  who  are  urgent  in  devoting  them- 
selves to  knowledge  and  purifying  the  heart, 
have  chosen  to  give  themselves  up  with  all 
their  might  and  main,  betaking  themselves, 
while  they  are  still  in  the  flesh,  to  that  duty, 
in  which  they  are  to  continue,  when  they  have 
laid  aside  corruption,  and  when  they  come  to 
that  promise  of  the  Lord  the  Saviour,  which 
says  "Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart  for  they 
shall  see  God."  7 

CHAPTER   XL 

On  the  abiding  character  of  love. 

And  why  do  you  wonder  that  those  duties 
enumerated  above  will  cease,  when  the  holy 
Apostle  tells  us  that  even  the  higher  gifts  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  will  pass  away:  and  points 
out  that  charity  alone  will  abide  without  end, 
saying  "whether  there  be  prophecies,  they 
shall  fail ;  whether  there  be  tongues,  they  shall 
cease :  whether   there   be    knowledge,  it  will 


i  S.  Matt.  v.  8. 


too 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


come  to  an  end,'"'  but  of  this  he  says  "Charity 
never  faileth."  For  all  gifts  are  given  for 
a  time  as  use  and  need  require,  but  when  the 
dispensation  is  ended  they  will  without  doubt 
presently  pass  away:  but  love  will  never  be 
destroyed.  For  not  only  does  it  work  usefully 
in  us  in  this  world;  but  also  in  that  to  come, 
when  the  burden  of  bodily  needs  is  cast  off, 
it  will  continue  in  far  greater  vigour  and  ex- 
cellence, and  will  never  be  weakened  by  any 
defect,  but  by  means  of  its  perpetual  incor- 
ruption  will  cling  to  God  more  intently  and 
earnestly. x 

CHAPTER   XII. 

A  question  on  perseverance  in  spiritual  contemplation. 

Germ  anus.  Who  then,  while  he  is  bur- 
dened with  our  frail  flesh,  can  be  always  so 
intent  on  this  contemplation,  as  never  to  think 
about  the  arrival  of  a  brother,  or  visiting  the 
sick,  or  manual  labour,  or  at  least  about 
showing  kindness  to  strangers  and  visitors? 
And  lastly,  who  is  not  interrupted  by  pro- 
viding for  the  body,  and  looking  after  it?  Or 
how  and  in  what  way  can  the  mind  cling  to 
the  invisible  and  incomprehensible  God,  this 
we  should  like  to  learn. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

The  answer  concerning  the  direction  of  the  heart  towards  God, 
and  concerning  the  kingdom  of  God  and  the  kingdom  of  the 
devil. 

Moses.  To  cling  to  God  continually,  and 
as  you  say  inseparably  to  hold  fast  to  medi- 
tation on  Him,  is  impossible  for  a  man  while 
still  in  this  weak  flesh  of  ours.  But  we  ought 
to  be  aware  on  what  we  should  have  the  pur- 
pose of  our  mind  fixed,  and  to  what  goal  we 
should  ever  recall  the  gaze  of  our  soul :  and 
when  the  mind  can  secure  this  it  may  rejoice; 
and  grieve  and  sigh  when  it  is  withdrawn  from 
this,  and  as  often  as  it  discovers  itself  to  have 
fallen  away  from  gazing  on  Him,  it  should 
admit  that  it  has  lapsed  from  the  highest 
good,  considering  that  even  a  momentary  de- 
parture from  gazing  on  Christ  is  fornication. 
And  when  our  gaze  has  wandered  ever  so 
little  from  Him,  let  us  turn  the  eyes  of  the 
soul  back  to  Him,  and  recall  our  mental  gaze 
as  in  a  perfectly  straight  direction.  For 
everything  depends  on  the  inward  frame  of 
mind,  and  when  the  devil  has  been  expelled 
from  this,  and  sins  no  longer  reign  in  it,  it 
follows  that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  founded 

1  i  Cor.  xiii.  8. 


in  us,  as  the  Evangelist  says  "The  kingdom  of 
God  cometh  not  with  observation,  nor  shall 
men  say  Lo  here,  or  lo  there :  for  verily  I  say 
unto  you  that  the  kingdom  of  God  is  within 
you."  2  But  nothing  else  can  be  "within  you," 
but  knowledge  or  ignorance  of  truth,  and 
delight  either  in  vice  or  in  virtue,  through 
which  we  prepare  a  kingdom  for  the  devil  or 
for  Christ  in  our  heart :  and  of  this  kingdom 
the  Apostle  describes  the  character,  when  he 
says  '*  For  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  meat  and 
drink,  but  righteousness  and  peace  and  joy  in 
the  Holy  Ghost."3  And  so  if  the  kingdom 
of  God  is  within  us,  and  the  actual  kingdom  of 
God  is  righteousness  and  peace  and  joy,  then 
the  man  who  abides  in  these  is  most  cer- 
tainly in  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  on  the 
contrary  those  who  live  in  unrighteousness, 
and  discord,  and  the  sorrow  that  worketh 
death,  have  their  place  in  the  kingdom  of  the 
devil,  and  in  hell  and  death.  For  by  these 
tokens  the  kingdom  of  God  and  the  kingdom 
of  the  devil  are  distinguished:  and  in  truth  if 
lifting  up  our  mental  gaze  on  high  we  would 
consider  that  state  in  which  the  heavenly 
powers  live  on  high,  who  are  truly  in  the 
kingdom  of  God,  what  should  Ave  imagine  it 
to  be  except  perpetual  and  lasting  joy?  For 
what  is  so  specially  peculiar  and  appropri- 
ate to  true  blessedness  as  constant  calm  and 
eternal  joy?  And  that  you  may  be  quite 
sure  that  this,  which  we  say,  is*  really  so,  not 
on  my  own  authority  but  on  that  of  the  Lord, 
hear  how  very  clearly  He  describes  the  char- 
acter and  condition  of  that  world:  "Behold," 
says  He,  "  I  create  new  heavens  and  a  new 
earth:  and  the  former  things  shall  not  be 
remembered  nor  come  into  'mind.  But  ye 
shall  be  glad  and  rejoice  forever  in  that 
which  I  create.''  4  And  again  "joy  and  glad- 
ness shall  be  found  therein :  thanksgiving  and 
the  voice  of  praise,  and  there  shall  be  month 
after  month,  and  Sabbath  after  Sabbath."5 
And  again:  "they  shall  obtain  joy  and  glad- 
ness; and  sorrow  and  sighing  shall  flee  away."  6 
And  if  you  want  to  know  more  definitely  about 
that  life  and  the  city  of  the  saints,  hear  what 
the  voice  of  the  Lord  proclaims  to  the  heav 
enly  Jerusalem  herself:  "I  will  make,"  says 
He,  "thine  officers  peace  and  thine  overseers 
righteousness.  Violence  shall  no  more  be 
heard  in  thy  land,  desolation  nor  destruction 
within  thy  borders.  And  salvation  shall  take 
possession  of  thy  walls,  and  praise  of  thy 
gates.  The  sun  shall  be  no  more  thy  light 
by  day,  neither  shall  the  brightness  of  the 
moon  give  light  to  thee :  but  the  Lord  shall  be 


2  S.  Luke  xvii.  20,  21. 

3  Rom.  xiv.  17. 


*  Is.  lxv.  17,  18. 
5  Is.  1L.  3  ;  lxvi. 


FIRST  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  MOSES. 


301 


thine  everlasting  light,  and  thy  God  thy  glory. 
Thy  sun  shall  no  more  go  down,  neither  shall 
thy  moon  withdraw  itself :  but  the  Lord  shall 
be  thine  everlasting  light,  and  the  days  of  thy 
mourning  shall  be  ended:  "  x  and  therefore  the 
holy  Apostle  does  not  say  generally  or  with- 
out qualification  that  every  joy  is  the  kingdom 
of  God,  but  markedly  and  emphatically  that 
joy  alone  which  is  "in  the  Holy  Ghost."2 
For  he  was  perfectly  aware  of  another  detest- 
able joy,  of  which  we  hear  "the  world  shall 
rejoice,"  3  and  "  woe  unto  you  that  laugh,  for 
ye  shall  mourn."4  In  fact  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  must  be  taken  in  a  threefold  sense, 
either  that  the  heavens  shall  reign,  i.e.,  the 
saints  over  other  things  subdued,  according 
to  this  text,  "  Be  thou  over  five  cities,  and 
thou  over  ten  ;  "  5  and  this  which  is  said  to  the 
disciples:  "  Ye  shall  sit  upon  twelve  thrones 
judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel:"6  or 
that  the  heavens  themselves  shall  begin  to 
be  reigned  over  by  Christ,  when  "all  things 
are  subdued  unto  Him,"  and  God  begins  to 
be  "all  in  all:"7  or  else  that  the  saints 
shall  reign  in  heaven  with  the  Lord. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Of  the  continuance  of  the  soul. 

Wherefore  every  one  while  still  existing 
in  this  body  should  already  be  aware  that  he 
must  be  committed  to  that  state  and  office,  of 
which  he  made  himself  a  sharer  and  an  ad- 
herent while  in  this  life,  nor  should  he  doubt 
that  in  that  eternal  world  he  will  be  partner 
of  him,  whose  servant  and  minister  he  chose 
to  make  himself  here  :  according  to  that  saying 
of  our  Lord  which  says  "  If  any  man  serve  Me, 
let  him  follow  Me,  and  where  I  am,  there  shall 
My  servant  also  be.  "  8  For  as  the  kingdom  of 
the  devil  is  gained  by  consenting  to  sin,  so 
the  kingdom  of  God  is  attained  by  the  practice 
of  virtue  in  purity  of  heart  and  spiritual  know- 
ledge. But  where  the  kingdom  of  God  is, 
there  most  certainly  eternal  life  is  enjoyed, 
and  where  the  kingdom  of  the  devil  is,  there 
without  doubt  is  death  and  the  grave.  And 
the  man  who  is  in  this  condition,  cannot 
praise  the  Lord,  according  to  the  saying  of 
the  prophet  which  tells  us:  "The  dead  cannot 
praise  Thee,  O  Lord;  neither  all  they  that  go 
down  into  the  grave  (doubtless  of  sin).  But 
we,"  says  he,  "who  live  (not  forsooth  to  sin  nor 
to  this  world  but  to  God)  will  bless  the  Lord, 
from  this  time  forth  for  evermore  :  for  in  death 


no  man  remembereth  God :  but  in  the  grave 
(of  sin)  who  will  confess  to  the  Lord?  "9  i.e., 
no  one  will.  For  no  man  even  though  he  were 
to  call  himself  a  Christian  a  thousand  times 
over,  or  a  monk,  confesses  God  when  he  is 
sinning:  no  man  who  allows  those  things 
which  the  Lord  hates,  remembereth  God,  nor 
calls  himself  with  any  truth  the  servant  of  Him, 
whose  commands  he  scorns  with  obstinate 
rashness :  in  which  death  the  blessed  Apostle 
declares  that  the  widow  is  involved,  who  gives 
herself  to  pleasure,  saying  "a  widow  who  giv- 
eth  herself  to  pleasure  is  dead  while  she  liv- 
eth.  "  10  There  are  then  many  who  while  still 
living  in  this  body  are  dead,  and  lying  in  the 
grave  cannot  praise  God;  and  on  the  contrary 
there  are  many  who  though  they  are  dead  in 
the  body  yet  bless  God  in  the  spirit,  and  praise 
Him,  according  to  this  :  "  O  ye  spirits  and  souls 
of  the  righteous,  bless  ye  the  Lord:  "  n  and 
"every  spirit  shall  praise  the  Lord.  "  12  And  in 
the  Apocalypse  the  souls  of  them  that  are 
slain  are  not  only  said  to  praise  God  but  to 
address  Him  also.13  In  the  gospel  too  the 
Lord  says  with  still  greater  clearness  to  the 
Sadducees:  "Have  ye  not  read  that  which 
was  spoken  by  God,  when  He  said  to  you :  I 
am  the  God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God  of 
Isaac  and  the  God  of  Jacob.  He  is  not  the 
God  of  the  dead  but  of  the  living:  for  all  do 
live  unto  Him.  "  14  Of  whom  also  the  Apostle 
says:  "wherefore  God  is  not  ashamed  to  be 
called  their  God :  for  He  hath  prepared  for 
them  a  city."15  For  that  they  are  not  idle 
after  the  separation  from  this  body,  and  are 
not  incapable  of  feeling,  the  parable  in  the 
gospel  shows,  which  tells  us  of  the  beggar 
Lazarus  and  Dives  clothed  in  purple,  one 
of  whom  obtained  a  position  of  bliss,  i.e., 
Abraham's  bosom,  the  other  is  consumed 
with  the  dreadful  heat  of  eternal  fire.16  But  if 
you  care  too  to  understand  the  words  spoken 
to  the  thief  "To-day  thou  shalt  be  with  Me 
in  Paradise,"  "  what  do  they  clearly  sIioav  but 
that  not  only  does  their  former  intelligence 
1  continue  with  the  souls,  but  also  that  in  their 
I  changed  condition  they  partake  of  some 
!  state  which  corresponds  to  their  actions  and 
deserts  ?  For  the  Lord  would  certainly  never 
have  promised  him  this,  if  He  had  known 
that  his  soul  after  being  separated  from  the 
flesh  would  either  have  been  deprived  of  per- 
ception or  have  been  resolved  into  nothing. 
For  it  was  not  his  flesh  but  his  soul  which  was 
to  enter  Paradise  with  Christ.      At  least  we 


1  Is.  lx.  17-20. 

2  Cf.  Rom.  xiv.  17. 

3  S.  John  xvi.  20. 
*  S.  Luke  vi.  25. 


5  S.  Luke  xix.  17,  19. 

6  S.  Matt.  xix.  2S. 

7  1  Cor.  xv.  28 

8  S.  John  xii.  26. 


9  Ps.  cxiii.  17,  18 ;  vi.  6. 
10  1  Tim.  v.  6. 
"  Dan.  iii.  S6  (LXX). 

12  Ps.  cl.  6. 

13  Cf.  Rev.  vi.  9,  10. 


**  S.  Matt.  xxii.  31,  32. 

"  Heb.  xi.  16. 

16  Cf.  S.  Luke  xvi.  19  sq. 

17  S.  Luke  xxiii.  43. 


;o2 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


must  avoid,  and  shun  with  the  utmost  horror, 
that  wicked  punctuation  of  the  heretics,  who, 
as  they  do  not  believe  that  Christ  could  be 
found  in  Paradise  on  the  same  day  on  which 
He  descended  into  hell,  thus  punctuate 
"Verily,  I  say  unto  you  to-day,"  and  making 
a  stop  apply  "thou  shall  be  with  Me  in  Para- 
dise, ' '  in  such  a  way  that  they  imagine  that 
this  promise  was  not  fulfilled  at  once  after  he 
departed  from  this  life,  but  that  it  will  be 
fulfilled  after  the  resurrection,1  as  they  do  not 
understand  what  before  the  time  of  His  resur- 
rection He  declared  to  the  Jews,  who  fancied 
that  He  was  hampered  by  human  difficulties 
and  weakness  of  the  flesh  as  they  were :  "  No 
man  hath  ascended  into  heaven,  but  He  who 
came  down  from  heaven,  even  the  Son  of  man 
who  is  in  heaven:"  2  by  which  Pie  clearly 
shows  that  the  souls  of  the  departed  are  not 
only  not  deprived  of  their  reason,  but  that 
they  are  not  even  without  such  feelings  as 
hope  and  sorrow,  joy  and  fear,  and  that  they 
already  are  beginning  to  taste  beforehand 
something  of  what  is  reserved  for  them  at  the 
last  judgment,  and  that  they  are  not  as  some 
unbelievers  hold  resolved  into  nothing  after 
their  departure  from  this  life: 3  but  that  they 
live  a  more  real  life,  and  are  still  more  earnest 
in  waiting  on  the  praises  of  God.  And  in- 
deed to  put  aside  for  a  little  Scripture  proofs, 
and  to  discuss,  as  far  as  our  ability  permits 
us,  a  little  about  the  nature  of  the  soul  itself, 
is  it  not  beyond  the  bounds  of  I  will  not  say 
the  folly,  but  the  madness  of  all  stupidity, 
even  to  have  the  slightest  suspicion  that  the 
nobler  part  of  man,  in  which  as  the  blessed 
Apostle  shows,  the  image  and  likeness  of  God 
consists,4  will,  when  the  burden  of  the  body 
with  which  it  is  oppressed  in  this  world  is  laid 
aside,  become  insensible,  when,  as  it  contains 
in  itself  all  the  power  of  reason,  it  makes  the 
dumb  and  senseless  material  flesh  sensible,  by 
participation  with  it:  especially  when  it  fol- 
lows, and  the  order  of  reason  itself  demands 
that  when  the  mind  has  put  off  the  grossness  of 
the  flesh  with  which  it  is  now  weighed  down, 
it  will  restore  its  intellectual  powers  better 
than  ever,  and  receive  them  in  a  purer  and  finer 
condition  than  it  lost  them.  But  so  far  did 
the  blessed  Apostle  recognize  that  what  we 


1  The  punctuation  which  Cassian  here  mentions  only  to  reject, 
and  which  is  rightly  characterized  by  Alford  as  "  worse  than  silly," 
is  also  mentioned  by  Theophylact.     Com.  in  loc. 

-  S.  John  hi.  13. 

3  Augustine  (De  Haeres.  c.  lix.)  speaks  of  "  Seleuciani  "  or  "Her- 
miani  "  as  denying  a  visible  Paradise,  and  a  future  resurrection  ; 
and  again  in  c.  lxxxiii.  he  speaks  of  some  Arabian  heretics,  as  teach- 
ing that  the  soul  died  and  was  dissolved  (dissolvi)  with  the  body, 
and  that  it  would  at  the  end  of  the  world  be  revived  and  rise  again. 
These  were  the  heretics  of  whom  Eusebius  speaks  in  his  Eccl. 
History  Book  VI.  c.  xxxvii.,  where  he  tells  us  that  they  were  suc- 
cessfully refuted  by  Origen.  It  is- probably  to  this  last  error  that 
Cassian  is  here  making  allusion. 

4  Cf.  1  Cor.  xi.  7;  Col.  iii.  10. 


say  is  true,  that  he  actually  wished  to  depart 
from  this  flesh ;  that  by  separation  from  it,  he 
might  be  able  to  be  joined  more  earnestly  to 
the  Lord;  saying:  "I  desire  to  be  dissolved 
and  to  be  with  Christ,  which  is  far  better,  for 
while  we  are  in  the  body  we  are  absent  from 
the  Lord:  "  and  therefore  "we  are  bold  and 
have  our  desire  always  to  be  absent  from  the 
body,  and  present  with  the  Lord.  Wherefore 
also  we  strive,  whether  absent  or  present,  to  be 
pleasing  to  Him;  "5  and  he  declares  indeed 
that  the  continuance  of  the  soul  which  is  in 
the  flesh  is  distance  from  the  Lord,  and  ab- 
sence from  Christ,  and  trusts  with  entire  faith 
that  its  separation  and  departure  from  this 
flesh  involves  presence  with  Christ.  And 
again  still  more  clearly  the  same  Apostle 
speaks  of  this  state  of  the  souls  as  one  that  is 
very  full  of  life  :  "  But  ye  are  come  to  Mount 
Sion,  and  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  an  innumerable 
company  of  angels,  and  the  church  of  the 
first  born,  who  are  written  in  heaven,  and  the 
spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect.  "  6  Of  which 
spirits  he  speaks  in  another  passage,  "Further- 
more we  have  had  instructors  of  our  flesh,  and 
we  reverenced  them :  shall  we  not  much  more 
be  subject  to  the  Father  of  spirits  and  live  ?  "  7 


CHAPTER   XV. 

How  we  must  meditate  on  God. 

But  the  contemplation  of  God  is  gained  in 
a  variety  of  ways.  For  we  not  only  discover 
God  by  admiring  His  incomprehensible  es- 
sence, a  thing  which  still  lies  hid  in  the  hope 
of  the  promise,  but  we  see  Him  through  the 
greatness  of  His  creation,  and  the  considera- 
tion of  His  justice,  and  the  aid  of  His  daily 
providence :  when  with  pure  minds  we  con- 
template what  He  has  done  with  His  saints 
in  every  generation,  when  with  trembling 
heart  we  admire  His  power  with  which  He 
governs,  directs,  and  rules  all  things,  or  the 
vastness  of  His  knowledge,  and  that  eye  of 
His  from  which  no  secrets  of  the  heart  can 
lie  hid,  when  we  consider  the  sand  of  the  sea, 
and  the  number  of  the  waves  measured  by 
Him  and  known  to  Him,  when  in  our  wonder 
we  think  that  the  drops  of  rain,  the  days  and 
hours  of  the  ages,  and  all  things  past  and 
future  are  present  to  His  knowledge;  when 
we  gaze  in  unbounded  admiration  on  that 
ineffable  mercy  of  His,  which  with  unwearied 
patience    endures    countless    sins  which    are 


5  Phil.  i.  23  ;  2  Cor. 
c   Heb.  xii.  22,  73. 
7  Ibid.,  ver.  9. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    MOSES. 


303 


every  moment  being  committed  under  His 
very  eyes,  or  the  call  with  which  from  no 
antecedent  merits  of  ours,  but  by  the  free 
grace  of  His  pity  He  receives  us;  or  again 
die  numberless  opportunities  of  salvation 
which  He  grants  to  those  whom  He  is  going 
to  adopt  —  that  He  made  us  be  born  in  such  a 
way  as  that  from  our  very  cradles  His  grace 
and  the  knowledge  of  His  law  might  be  given 
to  us,  that  He  Himself,  overcoming  our  en- 
emy in  us  simply  for  the  pleasure  of  His 
good  will,  rewards  us  with  eternal  bliss  and 
everlasting  rewards,  when  lastly  He  undertook 
the  dispensation  of  His  Incarnation  for  our 
salvation,  and  extended  the  marvels  of  His 
sacraments 1  to  all  nations.  But  there  are 
numberless  other  considerations  of  this  sort, 
which  arise  in  our  minds  according  to  the 
character  of  our  life  and  the  purity  of  our 
heart,  by  which  God  is  either  seen  by  pure 
eyes  or  embraced:  which  considerations  cer- 
tainly no  one  will  preserve  lastingly,  if  any- 
thing of  carnal  affections  still  survives  in  him, 
because  "thou  canst  not,"  saith  the  Lord, 
"see  My  face:  for  no  man  shall  see  Me  and 
live;"  2  viz.,  to  this  world  and  to  earthly 
affections. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

A  question  on  the  changing  character  of  the  thoughts. 

Germanus.  How  is  it  then,  that  even 
against  our  will,  aye  and  without  our  know- 
ledge idle  thoughts  steal  upon  us  so  subtilely 
and  secretly  that  it  is  fearfully  hard,  not 
merely  to  drive  them  away,  but  even  to  grasp 
and  seize  them?  Can  then  a  mind  sometimes 
be  found  free  from  them,  and  never  attacked 
by  illusions  of  this  kind? 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

The  answer  what  the  mind  can  and  what   it  cannot  do  with 
regard  to  the  state  of  its  thoughts. 

Moses.  It  is  impossible  for  the  mind  not 
to  be  approached  by  thoughts,  but  it  is  in  the 
power  of  every  earnest  man  either  to  admit 
them  or  to  reject  them.  As  then  their  rising 
up  does  not  entirely  depend  on  ourselves,  so 
the  rejection  or  admission  of  them  lies  in  our 
own  power.  But  because  we  said  that  it  is 
impossible  for  the  mind  not  to  be  approached 
by  thoughts,  you  must  not  lay  everything  to 
the  charge  of   the  assault,  or   to  those  spirits 


1  Mysteriorum. 


2  Exod.  xxxiii.  20. 


who  strive  to  instil  them  into  us,  else  there 
would  not  remain  any  free  will  in  man,  nor 
would  efforts  for  our  improvement  be  in  our 
power:  but  it  is,  I  say,  to  a  great  extent  in 
our  power  to  improve  the  character  of  our 
thoughts  and  to  let  either  holy  and  spiritual 
thoughts  or  earthly  ones  grow  up  in  our 
hearts.  For  for  this  purpose  frequent  read- 
ing and  continual  meditation  on  the  Scriptures 
is  employed  that  from  thence  an  opportunity 
for  spiritual  recollection  may  be  given  to  us, 
therefore  the  frequent  singing  of  Psalms  is 
used,  that  thence  constant  feelings  of  com- 
punction may  be  provided,  and  earnest  vigils 
and  fasts  and  prayers,  that  the  mind  may 
be  brought  low  and  not  mind  earthly  things, 
but  contemplate  things  celestial,  for  if  these 
things  are  dropped  and  carelessness  creeps  on 
us,  the  mind  being  hardened  with  the  foulness 
of  sin  is  sure  to  incline  in  a  carnal  direction 
and  fall  away. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Comparison  of  a  soul  and  a  millstone. 

And  this  movement  of  the  heart  is  not  un- 
suitably illustrated  by  the  comparison  of  a  mill 
wheel,  which  the  headlong  rush  of  water  whirls 
round,  with  revolving  impetus,  and  which  can 
never  stop  its  work  so  long  as  it  is  driven 
round  by  the  action  of  the  water:  but  it  is  in 
the  power  of  the  man  who  directs  it,  to  de- 
cide whether  he  will  have  wheat  or  barley  or 
darnel  ground  by  it.  That  certainly  must  be 
crushed  by  it  which  is  put  into  it  by  the  man 
who  has  charge  of  that  business.  So  then 
the  mind  also  through  the  trials  of  the  present 
life  is  driven  about  by  the  torrents  of  tempta- 
tions pouring  in  upon  it  from  all  sides,  and 
cannot  be  free  from  the  flow  of  thoughts : 
but  the  character  of  the  thoughts  which  it 
should  either  throw  off  or  admit  for  itself,  it 
will  provide  by  the  efforts  of  its  own  earnest- 
ness and  diligence:  for  if,  as  we  said,  we 
constantly  recur  to  meditation  on  the  Holy 
Scriptures  and  raise  our  memory  towards  the 
recollection  of  spiritual  things  and  the  desire 
of  perfection  and  the  hope  of  future  bliss, 
spiritual  thoughts  are  sure  to  rise  from  this, 
and  cause  the  mind  to  dwell  on  those  things 
on  which  we  have  been  meditating.  But  if 
we  are  overcome  by  sloth  or  carelessness  and 
spend  our  time  in  idle  gossip,  or  are  entan- 
gled in  the  cares  of  this  world  and  unnecessary 
anxieties,  the  result  will  be  that  a  sort  of  spe- 
cies of  tares  will  spring  up,  and  afford  an  in- 
jurious occupation  for  our  hearts,  and  as  our 


3°4 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


Lord  and  Saviour  says,  wherever  the  treasure 
of  our  works  or  purpose  may  be,  there  also  our 
heart  is  sure  to  continue.1 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

Of  the  three  origins  of  our  thoughts. 

Above  all  we  ought  at  least  to  know  that 
there  are  three  origins  of  our  thoughts,  i.e., 
from  God,  from  the  devil,  and  from  ourselves. 
They  come  from  God  when  He  vouchsafes 
to  visit  us  with  the  illumination  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  lifting  us  up  to  a  higher  state  of  pro- 
gress, and  where  we  have  made  but  little  pro- 
gress, or  through  acting  slothfully  have  been 
overcome,  He  chastens  us  with  most  salutary 
compunction,  or  when  He  discloses  to  us 
heavenly  mysteries,  or  turns  our  purpose  and 
will  to  better  actions,  as  in  the  case  where 
the  king  Ahasuerus,  being  chastened  by  the 
Lord,  was  prompted  to  ask  for  the  books  of 
the  annals,  by  which  he  was  reminded  of  the 
good  deeds  of  Mordecai,  and  promoted  him 
to  a  position  of  the  highest  honour  and  at 
once  recalled  his  most  cruel  sentence  con- 
cerning the  slaughter  of  the  Jews.2  Or  when 
the  prophet  says:  "  I  will  hearken  what  the 
Lord  God  will  say  in  me. "  3  Another  too  tells 
us  "And  an  angel  spoke,  and  said  in  me,  "  4  or 
when  the  Son  of  God  promised  that  He  would 
come  with  His  Father,  and  make  His  abode 
in  us,5  and  "It  is  not  ye  that  speak,  but  the 
Spirit  of  your  Father  which  speaketh  in  you. ' ' 6 
And  the  chosen  vessel:  "  Ye  seek  a  proof  of 
Christ  that  speaketh  in  me."7  But  a  whole 
range  of  thoughts  springs  from  the  devil, 
when  he  endeavours  to  destroy  us  either  by  the 
pleasures  of  sin  or  by  secret  attacks,  in  his 
crafty  wiles  deceitfully  showing  us  evil  as 
good,  and  transforming  himself  into  an  angel 
of  light  to  us : 8  as  when  the  evangelist  tells 
us:  "And  when  supper  was  ended,  when 
the  devil  had  already  put  it  into  the  heart  of 
Judas  Iscariot,  Simon's  son,  to  betray  "  9  the 
Lord :  and  again  also  "  after  the  sop, "  he  says, 
"  Satan  entered  into  him."  10  Peter  also  says 
to  Ananias:  "  Why  hath  Satan  tempted  thine 
heart,  to  lie  to  the  Holy  Ghost?  "  u  And  that 
which  we  read  in  the  gospel  much  earlier  as 
predicted  by  Ecclesiastes :  "  If  the  spirit  of 
the  ruler  rise  up  against  thee,  leave  not  thy 
place."  la      That  too   which   is  said   to   God 


1  Cf.  S.  Matt.  vi.  21. 

2  Cf.  Esth.  vi.  i  sq. 

3  Ps.  lxxxiv.  (lxxxv.)  9. 

4  Zech.  i.  14. 

E  Cf.  S.  John  xiv.  23. 
6  S.  Matt.  x.  20. 


7  2  Cor.  xiii.  3. 

8  Cf.  2  Cor.  xi.  4. 

9  S.  John  xiii.  2. 

10  Ibid.,  ver.  27. 

11  Acts  v.  3. 
u  Eccl.  x.  4. 


against  Ahab  in  the  third  book  of  Kings,  in 
the  character  of  an  unclean  spirit:  "I  will  go 
forth  and  will  be  a  lying  spirit  in  the  mouth 
of  all  his  prophets."  13  But  they  arise  from 
ourselves,  when  in  the  course  of  nature  we 
recollect  what  we  are  doing  or  have  done  or 
have  heard.  Of  which  the  blessed  David 
speaks  :  "  I  thought  upon  the  ancient  days,  and 
had  in  mind  the  years  from  of  old,  and  I  medi- 
tated, by  night  I  exercised  myself  with  my 
heart,  and  searched  out  my  spirit."  14  And 
again:  '"the  Lord  knoweth  the  thoughts  of 
man,  that  they  are  vain  :  "  15  and  "  the  thoughts 
of  the  righteous  are  judgments."15  In  the 
gospel  too  the  Lord  says  to  the  Pharisees: 
"  why  do  ye  think  evil  in  your  hearts  ?  "  17 


CHAPTER   XX. 

About  discerning  the  thoughts,  with  an   illustration   from  a 
good  money-changer. 

We  ought  then  carefully  to  notice  this 
threefold  order,  and  with  a  wise  discretion  to 
analyse  the  thoughts  which  arise  in  our 
hearts,  tracking  out  their  origin  and  cause 
and  author  in  the  first  instance,  that  we  may 
be  able  to  consider  how  we  ought  to  yield 
ourselves  to  them  in  accordance  with  the 
desert  of  those  who  suggest  them,  so  that  we 
may,  as  the  Lord's  command  bids  ixsj  become 
good  money-changers,18  whose  highest  skill  and 
whose  training  is  to  test  what  is  perfectly  pure 
gold  and  what  is  commonly  termed  ttsfet/,19  or 
what  is  not  sufficiently  purified' inThe1  fire  ;  and 
also  with  unerring  skill  not  to'be  taken  in  by 
a  common  brass  denarius,  if  by  belng'coloured 
with  bright  gold  it  is  made  like!:s6m&,coin  of 
great  value;  and  not  only  shrewdly  t6  recog- 
nize coins  stamped  with  the  heaHs  of -Usurpers, 
but  with  a  still  shrewder  skill  to  detect  those 
which  have  the  image  of  the  right  king,  but 
are  not  properly  made,  and  lastjy  to  be  care- 
ful by  the  test  of  the  balance  to  'see  that  they 
are  not    under  proper  weight.      All  of   which 


*-r*- — : — 

13  1  Kings  xxii.  22. 

14  Ps.  lxxvi.  (ixxvii.)  6,  7.  Scobcbam  (which  Petschepia;  edits 
from  the  MSS.)  =  scofebam,  which  is  found  in  'the  GSnfcan  Psalter 
as  in  the  old  Latin  in  this  passage.  It  is  merely  a  Latinized  form 
of  <7K07ret»'. 

15  Ps.  xciii.  (xciv.)  11. 

16  Prov.  xii.  5. 

«  S.  Matt.  ix.  4. 

18  Ut  efficiamur  secundum  fircecefitum  Domini  f>rol<aHles  tra- 
pezitce.  The  saying  to  which  Cassian  here  alludes,  -yu;«  jCc  -pa->.£  nai 
SoKijuoi,  is  not  found  anywhere  in  the  Gospels,  Dut"** is' the  most 
commonly  quoted  of  all  Apocryphal  sayings,  arid  Seeius  to  be 
genuine."  Westcott,  Introd.  to  the  Gospels,  p.  454.  It  is  quoted 
among  others  by  Origen  in  Joann.  xix.,  and  Jerome  Kp.  152.  See 
these"and  other  reff.  in  Anger's  Synopsis,  p.  274:  and  cf.  the  note 
of  Gazsus  here. 

10  Obrizum.  The  word  occurs  in  the  Vulgate  five  tiwee-  For  "  pure 
gold."  .See  2  Chr.  iii.  i :  Job  xxviii.  ic;:  xxxi.  24:  (sa.  xiii.  12; 
Dan.  x.  5;  and  is  akin  to  the  Greek  oSpiclov.  Cf.  Pliny  Nat.  Hist. 
xxxiii.  c.  3,  and  Jerome  De  Nom.  Hcbr.  s.  v.  Ophaz.i 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    MOSES. 


305 


things  the  gospel  saying,  which  uses  this 
figure,  shows  us  that  we  ought  also  to  observe 
spiritually;  first  that  whatever  has  found  an 
entrance  into  our  hearts,  and  whatever  doc- 
trine has  been  received  by  us,  should  be  most 
carefully  examined  to  see  whether  it  has  been 
purified  by  the  divine  and  heavenly  fire  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  or  whether  it  belongs  to  Jewish 
superstition,  or  whether  it  comes  from  the 
pride  of  a  worldly  philosophy  and  only  exter- 
nally makes  a  show  of  religion.  And  this  we 
can  do,  if  we  carry  out  the  Apostle's  advice, 
"  Believe  not  every  spirit,  but  prove  the  spirits 
whether  they  are  of  God. "  a  But  by  this  kind 
those  men  also  are  deceived,  who  after  having 
been  professed  as  monks  are  enticed  by  the 
grace  of  style,  and  certain  doctrines  of  phi- 
losophers, which  at  the  first  blush,  owing  to 
some  pious  meanings  not  out  of  harmony  with 
religion,  deceive  as  with  the  glitter  of  gold 
their  hearers,  whom  they  have  superficially 
attracted,  but  render  them  poor  and  miserable 
for  ever,  like  men  deceived  by  false  money 
made  of  copper :  either  bringing  them  back 
to  the  bustle  of  this  world,  or  enticing  them 
into  the  errors  of  heretics,  and  bombastic  con- 
ceits :  a  thing  which  we  read  of  as  happening 
to  Achan  in  the  book  of  Joshua  the  son  of 
Nun,2  when  he  coveted  a  golden  weight  from 
the  camp  of  the  Philistines,  and  stole  it,  and 
was  smitten  with  a  curse  and  condemned  to 
eternal  death.  In  the  second  place  we  should 
be  careful  to  see  that  no  wrong  interpretation 
fixed  on  to  the  pure  gold  of  Scripture  deceives 
us  as  to  the  value  of  the  metal :  by  which  means 
the  devil  in  his  craft  tried  to  impose  upon  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  as  if  He  was  a  mere  man, 
when  by  his  malevolent  interpretation  he  per- 
verted what  ought  to  be  understood  generally 
of  all  good  men,  and  tried  to  fasten  it  spe- 
cially on  to  Him,  who  had  no  need  of  the  care 
of  the  angels:  saying,  "For  He  shall  give 
His  angels  charge  concerning  Thee,  to  keep 
Thee  in  all  Thy  ways:  and  in  their  hands  they 
shall  bear  Thee  up,  lest  at  any  time  Thou 
dash  Thy  foot  against  a  stone,"  3  by  a  skilful 
assumption  on  his  part  giving  a  turn  to  the 
precious  sayings  of  Scripture  and  twisting 
them  into  a  dangerous  sense,  the  very  opposite 
of  their  true  meaning,  so  as  to  offer  to  us  the 
image  and  face  of  an  usurper  under  cover  of 
the  gold  colour  which  may  deceive  us.  Or 
whether  he  tries  to  cheat  us  with  counterfeits, 
for  instance  by  urging  that  some  work  of  piety 
should  be  taken  up  which  as  it  does  come 
from  the  true  minds  of  the  fathers,  leads  under 
the  form  of  virtue  to  vice ;  and,  deceiving  us 


1  1  John  iv.  1. 

2  Cf.  Josh.  vii. 

3  S.  Matt.  iv.  6;   Ps.  xc. 


either  by  immoderate  or  impossible  fasts,  or 
by  too  long  vigils,  or  inordinate  prayers,  or 
unsuitable  reading,  brings  us  to  a  bad  end. 
Or,  when  he  persuades  us  to  give  ourselves  up 
to  mixing  in  the  affairs  of  others,  and  to  pious 
visits,  by  which  he  may  drive  us  away  from 
the  spiritual  cloisters  of  the  monastery,  and 
the  secrecy  of  its  friendly  peaceful  ness,  and 
suggests  that  we  take  on  our  shoulders  the 
anxieties  and  cares  of  religious  women  who 
are  in  want,  that  when  a  monk  is  inextricably 
entangled  in  snares  of  this  sort  he  may  dis- 
tract him  with  most  injurious  occupations  and 
cares.  Or  else  when  he  incites  a  man  to  desire 
the  holy  office  of  the  clergy  under  the  pretext 
of  edifying  many  people,  and  the  love  of 
spiritual  gain,  by  which  to  draw  us  away  from 
the  humility  and  strictness  of  our  life.  All 
of  which  things,  although  they  are  opposed 
to  our  salvation  and  to  our  profession,  yet 
when  covered  with  a  sort  of  veil  of  compassion 
and  religion,  easily  deceive  those  who  are 
lacking  in  skill  and  care.  For  they  imitate 
the  coins  of  the  true  king,  because  they  seem 
at  first  full  of  piety,  but  are  not  stamped  by 
those  who  have  the  right  to  coin,  i.e.,  the  ap- 
proved Catholic  fathers,  nor  do  they  proceed 
from  the  head  public  office  for  receiving 
them,  but  are  made  by  stealth  and  by  the 
fraud  of  the  devil,  and  palmed  off  upon  the 
unskilful  and  ignorant  not  without  serious 
harm.  And  even  although  they  seem  to  be 
useful  and  needful  at  first,  yet  if  afterwards 
they  begin  to  interfere  with  the  soundness  of 
our  profession,  and  as  it  were  to  weaken  in 
some  sense  the  whole  body  of  our  purpose,  it 
is  well  that  they  should  be  cut  off  and  cast 
away  from  us  like  a  member  which  may  be 
necessary,  but  yet  offends  us  and  which  seems 
to  perform  the  office  of  the  right  hand  or 
foot.  For  it  is  better,  without  one  member 
of  a  command,  i.e.,  its  working  or  result,  to 
continue  safe  and  sound  in  other  parts,  and 
to  enter  as  weak  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
rather  than  with  the  whole  mass  of  commands 
to  fall  into  some  error  which  by  an  evil  cus- 
tom separates  us  from  our  strict  rule  and  the 
system  purposed  and  entered  upon,  and  leads 
to  such  loss,  that  it  will  never  outweigh  the 
harm  that  will  follow,  but  will  cause  all  our 
past  fruits  and  the  whole  body  of  our  work  to 
be  burnt  in  hell  fire.4  Of  which  kind  of  illu- 
sions it  is  well  said  in  the  Proverbs:  "  There 
are  ways  which  seem  to  be  right  to  a  man,  but 
their  latter  end  will  come  into  the  depths  of 
hell,"5  and  again  "  An  evil  man  is  harmful 
when  he  attaches  himself  to  a  good  man,"0 


4  Cf.  S.  Matt,  xviii.  8. 

5  Prov   xvi.25  (LXX.). 

6  Prov.  xi.  15  (LXX.). 


306 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


i.  e. ,  the  devil  deceives  when  he  is  covered  with 
an  appearance  of  sanctity:  "but  he  hates  the 
sound  of  the  watchman,"1  i.e.,  the  power  of 
discretion  which  comes  from  the  words  and 
warnings  of  the  fathers. 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

Of  the  illusion  of  Abbot  John. 

In  this  manner  we  have  heard  that  Abbot 
John  who  lived  at  Lycon,2  was  recently  de- 
ceived. For  when  his  body  was  exhausted 
and  failing  as  he  had  put  off  taking  food 
during  a  fast  of  two  days,  on  the  third 
day  while  he  was  on  his  way  to  take  some 
refreshment  the  devil  came  in  the  shape  of  a 
filthy  Ethiopian,  and  falling  at  his  feet,  cried 
"  Pardon  me  because  I  appointed  this  labour 
for  you."  And  so  that  great  man,  who  was 
so  perfect  in  the  matter  of  discretion,  under- 
stood that  under  pretence  of  an  abstinence 
practised  unsuitably,  he  was  deceived  by  the 
craft  of  the  devil,  and  engaged  in  a  fast  of 
such  a  character  as  to  affect  his  worn  out  body 
with  a  weariness  that  was  unnecessary,  in- 
deed that  was  harmful  to  the  spirit;  as  he  was 
deceived  by  a  counterfeit  coin,  and,  while  he 
paid  respect  to  the  image  of  the  true  king  upon 
it,  was  not  sufficiently  alive  to  the  question 
whether  it  was  rightly  cut  and  stamped.  But 
the  last  duty  of  this  "good  money-changer," 
which,  as  we  mentioned  before,  concerns  the 
examination  of  the  weight,  will  be  fulfilled,  if 
whenever  our  thoughts  suggest  that  anything 
is  to  be  done,  we  scrupulously  think  it  over, 
and,  laying  it  in  the  scales  of  our  breast,  weigh 
it  with  the  most  exact  balance,  whether  it  be 
full  of  good  for  all,  or  heavy  with  the  fear  of 
God:  or  entire  and  sound  in  meaning;  or 
whether  it  be  light  with  human  display  or 
some  conceit  of  novelty,  or  whether  the  pride 
of  foolish  vain  glory  has  not  diminished  or 
lessened  the  weight  of  its  merit.  And  so 
straightway  weighing  them  in  the  public  ba- 
lance, i.e.,  testing  them  by  the  acts  and  proofs 
of  the  Apostles  and  Prophets  let  us  hold  them 
as  it  were  entire  and  perfect  and  of  full  weight, 
or  else  with  all  care  and  diligence  reject  them 
as  imperfect  and  counterfeit,  and  of  insuffi- 
cient weight. 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

Of  the  fourfold  method  of  discrimination. 

This  power  of   discriminating  will  then  be 
necessary   for   us  in   the   fourfold  manner   of 


which  we  have  spoken;  viz.,  first  that  the  ma- 
terial does  not  escape  our  notice  whether  it 
be  of  true  or  of  painted  gold:  secondly,  that 
those  thoughts  which  falsely  promise  works 
of  religion  should  be  rejected  by  us  as  forged 
and  counterfeit  coins,  as  they  are  those  which 
are  not  rightly  stamped,  and  which  bear  an 
untrue  image  of  the  king ;  and  that  we  may 
be  able  in  the  same  way  to  detect  those  which 
in  the  case  of  the  precious  gold  of  Scripture, 
by  means  of  a  false  and  heretical  meaning, 
show  the  image  not  of  the  true  king  but  of 
an  usurper;  and  that  we  refuse  those  whose 
weight  and  value  the  rust  of  vanity  has  depreci- 
ated and  not  allowed  to  pass  in  the  scales  of 
the  fathers,  as  coins  that  are  too  light,  and  are 
false  and  weigh  too  little;  so  that  we  may  not 
incur  that  which  we  are  warned  by  the  Lord's 
command  to  avoid  with  all  our  power,  and 
lose  the  value  and  reward  of  all  our  labour. 
"  Lay  not  up  for  yourselves  treasures  on  the 
earth,  where  rust  and  moth  corrupt  and  where 
thieves  break  through  and  steal."  3  For 
whenever  we  do  anything  with  a  view  to 
human  glory  we  know  that  we  are,  as  the 
Lord  says,  laying  up  for  ourselves  treasure  on 
earth,  and  that  consequently  being  as  it  were 
hidden  in  the  ground  and  buried  in  the  earth 
it  must  be  destroyed  by  sundry  demons  or 
consumed  by  the  biting  rust  of  vain  glory,  or 
devoured  by  the  moths  of  pride  so  as  to  con- 
tribute nothing  to  the  use  and  profits  of  the 
man  who  has  hidden  it.  We  should  then 
constantly  search  all  the  inner  chambers  of 
our  hearts,  and  trace  out  the  footsteps  of 
whatever  enters  into  them  with  the  closest  in- 
vestigation lest  haply  some  beast,  if  I  may 
say  so,  relating  to  the  understanding,  either 
lion  or  dragon,  passing  through  has  furtively 
left  the  dangerous  marks  of  his  track,  which 
will  show  to  others  the  way  of  access  into  the 
secret  recesses  of  the  heart,  owing  to  a  care- 
lessness about  our  thoughts.  And  so  daily  and 
hourly  turning  up  the  ground  of  our  heart  with 
the  gospel  plough,  i.e.,  the  constant  recollec- 
tion of  the  Lord's  cross,  we  shall  manage  to 
stamp  out  or  extirpate  from  our  hearts  the  lairs 
of  noxious  beasts  and  the  lurking  places  of 
poisonous  serpents. 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

Of  the  discourse  of  the  teacher  in  regard  to  the  merits  of  his 
hearers. 

At  this  the  old  man  seeing  that  we  were 
astonished,  and  inflamed  at  the  words  of  his 
discourse  with  an   insatiable  desire,  stopped 


1  Prov.  xi.  15  (LXX.). 

V  On  this  John  of  Lycon  or  Lycopolis  see  the  note  on  Inst.  IV. 


3  S.  Matt.  vi.  19. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    MOSES. 


307 


his  speech  for  a  little  in  consequence  of  our 
admiration  and  earnestness,  and  presently 
added:  Since  your  zeal,  my  sons,  has  led 
to  so  long  a  discussion,  and  a  sort  of  fire 
supplies  keener  zest  to  our  conference  in 
proportion  to  your  earnestness,  as  from  this 
very  thing  I  can  clearly  see  that  you  are 
truly  thirsting  after  teaching  about  perfection, 
I  want  still  to  say  something  to  you  on  the 
excellence  of  discrimination  and  grace  which 
rules  and  holds  the  field  among  all  virtues, 
and  not  merely  to  prove  its  value  and  use- 
fulness by  daily  instances  of  it,  but  also 
from  former  deliberations  and  opinions  of  the 
fathers.  For  I  remember  that  frequently 
when  men  were  asking  me  with  sighs  and 
tears  for  a  discourse  of  this  kind,  and  I  my- 
self was  anxious  to  give  them  some  teaching 
I  could  not  possibly  manage  it,  and  not  merely 
my  thoughts  but  even  my  very  power  of  speech 
failed  me  so  that  I  could  not  find  how  to  send 
them  away  with  even  some  slight  consolation. 
And  by  these  signs  we  clearly  see  that  the 
grace  of  the  Lord  inspires  the  speakers  with 
words  according  to  the  deserts  and  zeal  of  the 
hearers.  And  because  the  very  short  night 
which  is  before  us  does  not  allow  me  to  finish 
the  discourse,  let  us  the  rather  give  it  up  to 
bodily  rest,  in  which  the  whole  of  it  will  have 
to  be  spent,  if  a  reasonable  portion  is  refused, 
and  let  us  reserve  the  complete  scheme  of  the 
discourse  for  unbroken  consideration  on  a 
future  day  or  night.  For  it  is  right  for  the 
best  counsellors  on  discretion  to  show  the 
diligence  of  their  minds  in  the  first  place  in 
this,  and  to  prove  whether  they  are  or  can  be 
possessors  of  it  by  this  evidence  and  patience, 
so  that  in  treating  of  that  virtue  which  is  the 
mother  of  moderation  they  may  by  no  means 
fall  into  the  vice  which  is  opposite  to  it;  viz., 


that  of  undue  length,  by  their  actions  and 
deeds  destroying  the  force  of  the  system  and 
nature  which  they  recommend  in  word.  In 
regard  then  to  this  most  excellent  discretion, 
on  which  we  still  propose  to  inquire,  so  far 
as  the  Lord  gives  us  power,  it  may  in  the  first 
instance  be  a  good  thing,  when  we  are  dis- 
puting about  its  excellence  and  the  modera- 
tion which  we  know  exists  in  it  as  the  first  of 
virtues,  not  to  allow  ourselves  to  exceed  the 
due  limit  of  the  discussion  and  of  our  time. 

And  so  with  this  the  blessed  Moses  put  a 
stop  to  our  talk,  and  urged  us,  eager  though 
we  were  and  hanging  on  his  lips,  to  go  off  to 
bed  for  a  little,  advising  us  to  lie  down  on  the 
same  mats  on  which  we  were  sitting,  and  to 
put  our  bundles  x  under  our  heads  instead  of 
pillows,  as  these  being  tied  evenly  to  thicker 
leaves  of  papyrus  collected  in  long  and  slen- 
der bundles,  six  feet  apart,  at  one  time  pro- 
vide the  brethren  when  sitting  at  service  with 
a  very  low  seat  instead  of  a  footstool,  at 
another  time  being  put  under  their  necks 
when  they  go  to  bed  furnish  a  support  for 
their  heads,  that  is  not  too  hard,  but  comfort- 
able and  just  right.  For  which  uses  of  the 
monks  these  things  are  considered  especially 
fit  and  suitable  not  only  because  they  are 
somewhat  soft,  and  prepared  at  little  cost  of 
money  and  labour,  as  the  papyrus  grows 
everywhere  along  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  but 
also  because  they  are  of  a  convenient  stuff 
and  light  enough  to  be  removed  or  fetched  as 
need  may  require.  And  so  at  last  at  the 
bidding  of  the  old  man  we  settled  ourselves 
down  to  sleep  in  deep  stillness,  both  excited 
with  delight  at  the  conference  we  had  held, 
and  also  buoyed  up  with  hope  of  the  prom- 
ised discussion. 


SECOND   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   MOSES. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Abbot  Moses'  introduction  on  the  grace  of  discretion. 

And  so  when  we  had  enjoyed  our  morning 
sleep,  when  to  our  delight  the  dawn  of  light 
again  shone  upon  us,  and  we  had  begun  to 
ask  once  more  for  his  promised  talk,  the 
blessed  Moses  thus  began :  As  I  see  you  in- 
flamed with  such  an  eager  desire,  that  I  do  not 
believe  that  that  very  short  interval  of  quiet 
which  I  wanted  to  subtract  from  our  spiritual 
conference  and  devote  to  bodily  rest,  has  been 
of  any  use  for  the  repose  of  your  bodies,  on 


me  too  a  greater  anxiety  presses  when  I  take 
note  of  your  zeal.  For  I  must  give  the  greater 
care  and  devotion  in  paying  my  debt,  in  pro- 
portion as  I  see  that  you  ask  for  it  the  more 
earnestly,  according  to  that  saying :  "When 
thou  sittest  to  eat  with  a  ruler  consider  dili- 
gently what  is  put  before  thee,  and  put  forth 
thine  hand,  knowing  that  thou  oughtest  to  pre- 
pare such  things.  "  2  Wherefore  as  we  are  going 


1  Embrimium.  The  word  is  possibly  of  Egyptian  origin.  It  occu-rs 
also  in  Cyril  in  Vita  S.  Euthymii  Abbati,  n.  90,  and  in  Apophthegm, 
Patrum  num.  7,  and  is  possibly  the  same  word  as  "  Ebymium,"  which 
occurs  in  the  Rule  of  Pachomius,  c.  xiv.     See  Ducange,  sua  voce. 

2  Prov.  xxiii.  1,  2  (LXX.). 


3o8 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


to  speak  of  the  excellent  quality  of  discretion 
and  the  virtue  of  it,  on  which  subject  our  dis- 
course of  last  night  had  entered  at  the  ter- 
mination of  our  discussion,  we  think  it 
desirable  first  to  establish  its  excellence  by 
the  opinions  of  the  fathers,  that  when  it  has 
been  shown  what  our  predecessors  thought 
and  said  about  it,  then  we  may  bring  forward 
some  ancient  and  modern  shipwrecks  and 
mischances  of  various  people,  who  were 
destroyed  and  hopelessly  ruined  because 
they  paid  but  little  attention  to  it,  and  then 
as  well  as  we  can  we  must  treat  of  its  advan- 
tages and  uses:  after  a  discussion  of  which  we 
shall  know  better  how  we  ought  to  seek  after 
it  and  practise  it,  by  the  consideration  of  the 
importance  of  its  value  and  grace.  ■  For  it  is 
no  ordinary  virtue  nor  one  which  can  be  freely 
gained  by  merely  human  efforts,  unless  they 
are  aided  by  the  Divine  blessing,  for  we  read 
that  this  is  also  reckoned  among  the  noblest 
gifts  of  the  Spirit  by  the  Apostle  :  "  To  one  is 
given  by  the  Spirit  the  word  of  wisdom,  to 
another  the  word  of  knowledge  by  the  same 
Spirit,  to  another  faith  by  the  same  Spirit, 
to  another  the  gift  of  healing  by  the  same 
Spirit,"  and  shortly  after,  "  to  another  the  dis- 
cerning of  spirits."  Then  after  the  complete 
catalogue  of  spiritual  gifts  he  subjoins:  "But 
all  these  worketh  one  and  the  selfsame 
Spirit,  dividing  to  every  man  severally  as  He 
will."  1  You  see  then  that  the  gift  of  discre- 
tion is  no  earthly  thing  and  no  slight  matter, 
but  the  greatest  prize  of  divine  grace.  And 
unless  a  monk  has  pursued  it  with  all  zeal, 
and  secured  a  power  of  discerning  with  unerr- 
ing judgment  the  spirits  that  rise  up  in  him, 
he  is  sure  to  go  wrong,  as  if  in  the  darkness 
of  night  and  dense  blackness,  and  not  merely 
to  fall  down  dangerous  pits  and  precipices, 
but  also  to  make  frequent  mistakes  in  matters 
that  are  plain  and  straightforward. 


CHAPTER    II. 

What  discretion  alone  can  give  a  monk ;  and  a  discourse  of  the 
blessed  Antony  on  this  subject. 

And  so  I  remember  that  while  I  was  still 
a  boy,  in  the  region  of  Thebaid,  where  the 
blessed  Antony  lived,2  the  elders  came  to 
him  to  inquire  about  perfection:  and  though 
the  conference  lasted  from  evening  till  morn- 
ing, the  greatest  part  of  the  night  was  taken 
up  with  this  question.  For  it  was  discussed  at 
great  length  what  virtue  or  observance  could 
preserve  a  monk  always  unharmed  by  the 
snares  and  deceits  of  the  devil,  and  carry  him 

1  i  Cor.  xii.  8-1 1.        -  Cf.  the  note  on  the  Institutes,  V.  iv. 


forward  on  a  sure  and  right  path,  and  with 
firm  step  to  the  heights  of  perfection.  And 
when  each  one  gave  his  opinion  according 
to  the  bent  of  his  own  mind,  and  some  made 
it  consist  in  zeal  in  fasting  and  vigils,  be- 
cause a  soul  that  has  been  brought  low  by 
these,  and  so  obtained  purity  of  heart  and 
body  will  be  the  more  easily  united  to  God, 
others  in  despising  all  things,  as,  if  the  mind 
were  utterly  deprived  of  them,  it  would  come 
the  more  freely  to  God,  as  if  henceforth  there 
were  no  snares  to  entangle  it:  others  thought 
that  withdrawal  from  the  world  was  the 
thing  needful,  i.e.,  solitude  and  the  secrecy 
of  the  hermit's  life ;  living  in  which  a  man 
may  more  readily  commune  with  God,  and 
cling  more  especially  to  Him;  others  laid 
down  that  the  duties  of  charity,  i.e.,  of  kind- 
ness should  be  practised,  because  the  Lord  in 
the  gospel  promised  more  especially  to  give 
the  kingdom  to  these;  when  He  said  "  Come 
ye  blessed  of  My  Father,  inherit  the  king- 
dom prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of 
the  world.  For  I  was  an  huhgred  and  ye 
gave  Me  to  eat,  I  was  thirsty  and  ye  gave  Me 
to  drink,  etc.  :  "  3  and  when  in  this  fashion  they 
declared  that  by  means  of  different  virtues  a 
more  certain  approach  to  God  could  be  se- 
cured, and  the  greater  part  of  the  night  had 
been  spent  in  this  discussion,  then  at  last  the 
blessed  Antony  spoke  and  said:  All  these 
things  which  you  have  mentioned  are  indeed 
needful,  and  helpful  to  those  who  are  thirsting 
for  God,  and  desirous  to  approach  Him.  But 
countless  accidents  and  the  experience  of 
many  people  will  not  allow  us  to  make  the 
most  important  of  gifts  consist  in  them.  For 
often  when  men  are  most  strict  in  fasting  or  in 
vigils,  and  nobly  withdraw  into  solitude,  and 
aim  at  depriving  themselves  of  all  their  goods 
so  absolutely  that  they  do  not  suffer  even  a 
day's  allowance  of  food  or  a  single  penny  to 
remain  to  them,  and  when  they  fulfil  all  the 
duties  of  kindness  with  the  utmost  devotion, 
yet  still  we  have  seen  them  suddenly  de- 
ceived, so  that  they  could  not  bring  the  work 
they  had  entered  upon  to  a  suitable  close,  but 
brought  their  exalted  fervour  and  praise- 
worthy manner  of  life  to  a  terrible  end. 
Wherefore  we  shall  be  able  clearly  to  recog- 
nize what  it  is  which  mainly  leads  to  God,  if 
we  trace  out  with  greater  care  the  reason  of 
their  downfall  and  deception.  For  when  the 
works  of  the  above  mentioned  virtues  were 
abounding  in  them,  discretion  alone  was 
wanting,  and  allowed  them  not  to  continue 
even  to  the  end.  Nor  can  any  other  reason 
for  their  falling  off  be  discovered  except  that 


3  S.  Matt.  xxv.  36,  35. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    MOSES. 


309 


as  they  were  not  sufficiently  instructed  by 
their  elders  they  could  not  obtain  judgment 
and  discretion,  which  passing  by  excess  on 
either  side,  teaches  a  monk  always  to  walk 
along  the  royal  road,  and  does  not  suffer  him 
to  be  puffed  up  on  the  right  hand  of  virtue,  i.  e. , 
from  excess  of  zeal  to  transgress  the  bounds 
of  due  moderation  in  foolish  presumption, 
nor  allows  him  to  be  enamoured  of  slackness 
and  turn  aside  to  the  vices  on  the  left  hand, 
i.e.,  under  pretext  of  controlling  the  body,  to 
grow  slack  with  the  opposite  spirit  of  luke- 
warmness.  For  this  is  discretion,  which  is 
termed  in  the  gospel  the  "eye,"  "and  light  of 
the  body,"  according  to  the  Saviour's  saying: 
"The  light  of  thy  body  is  thine  eye:  but  if 
thine  eye  be  single,  thy  whole  body  \vill  be 
full  of  light,  but  if  thine  eye  be  evil,  thy 
whole  body  will  be  full  of  darkness:"1  be- 
cause as  it  discerns  all  the  thoughts  and  ac- 
tions of  men,  it  sees  and  overlooks  all  things 
which  should  be  done.  But  if  in  any  man 
this  is  "evil,"  i.e.,  not  fortified  by  sound 
judgment  and  knowledge,  or  deceived  by 
some  error  and  presumption,  it  will  make  our 
whole  body  "full  of  darkness,"  i.e.,  it  will 
darken  all  our  mental  vision  and  our  actions, 
as  they  will  be  involved  in  the  darkness  of 
vices  and  the  gloom  of  disturbances.  For, 
says  He,  "if  the  light  which  is  in  thee  be 
darkness,  how  great  will  that  darkness  be !  "  ~ 
For  no  one  can  doubt  that  when  the  judgment 
of  our  heart  goes  wrong,  and  is  overwhelmed 
by  the  night  of  ignorance,  our  thoughts  and 
deeds,  which  are  the  result  of  deliberation 
and  discretion,  must  be  involved  in  the  dark- 
ness of  still  greater  sins. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Of  the  error  of  Saul  and  of  Ahab,  by  which  they  were  deceived 
through  lack  of  discretion. 

Lastly,  the  man  who  in  th;;  judgment  of 
God  was  the  first  to  be  worthy  of  the  kingdom 
of  His  people  Israel, because  he  was  lacking  in 
this  "eye  "  of  discretion,  was,  as  if  his  whole 
body  were  full  of  darkness,  actually  cast 
down  from  the  kingdom  while,  being  deceived 
by  the  darkness  of  this  "  light,  "  and  in  error, 
he  imagined  that  his  own  offerings  were  more 
acceptable  to  God  than  obedience  to  the 
command  of  Samuel,  and  met  with  an  occa- 
sion of  falling  in  that  very  matter  in  which 
he  had  hoped  to  propitiate  the  Divine  Ma- 
jesty. 3  And  ignorance,  I  say,  of  this  discretion 
led  Ahab  the  king  of  Israel  after  a  triumph  and 


splendid  victory  which  had  been  granted  to 
him  by  the  favour  of  God  to  fancy  that  mercy 
on  his  part  was  better  than  the  stern  execution 
of  the  divine  command,  and,  as  it  seemed  to 
him,  a  cruel  rule :  and  moved  by  this  consid- 
eration, while  he  desired  to  temper  a  bloody 
victory  with  mercy,  he  was  on  account  of  his 
indiscriminating  clemency  rendered  full  of 
darkness  in  his  whole  body,  and  condemned 
irreversibly  to  death.4 


CHAPTER   IV. 

What  is  said  of  the  value  of  discretion  in  Holy  Scripture. 

Such  is  discretion,  which  is  not  only  the 
' '  light  of  the  body, ' '  but  also  called  the  sun  by 
the  Apostle,  as  it  said  "Let  not  the  sun  go 
down  upon  your  wrath. "  5  It  is  also  called 
the  guidance  of  our  life:  as  it  said  "Those 
who  have  no  guidance,  fall  like  leaves."  6  It 
is  most  truly  named  counsel,  without  which 
the  authority  of  Scripture  allows  us  to  do 
nothing,  so  that  we  are  not  even  permitted  to 
take  that  spiritual  "wine  which  maketh  glad 
the  heart  of  man"  7  without  its  regulating  con- 
trol :  as  it  is  said  "Do  everything  with  counsel, 
drink  thy  wine  with  counsel, "  8  and  again  ' '  like 
a  city  that  has  its  walls  destroyed  and  is  not 
fenced  in,  so  is  a  man  who  does  anything  with- 
out counsel. ' ' 9  And  how  injurious  the  absence 
of  this  is  to  a  monk,  the  illustration  and 
figure  in  the  passage  quoted  shows,  by  com- 
paring it  to  a  city  that  is  destroyed  and  without 
walls.  Herein  lies  wisdom,  herein  lies  in- 
telligence and  understanding  without  which 
our  inward  house  cannot  be  built,  nor  can 
spiritual  riches  be  gathered  together,  as  it  is 
said:  "A  house  is  built  with  wisdom,  and 
again  it  is  set  up  with  intelligence.  With  un- 
derstanding the  storehouses  are  filled  with 
all  precious  riches  and  good  things.  "  10  This 
I  say  is  "solid  food,  "  which  can  only  be  taken 
by  those  who  are  full  grown  and  strong,  as  it 
is  said :  ' '  But  solid  food  is  for  full  grown  men, 
who  by  reason  of  use  have  their  senses  exer- 
cised to  discern  good  and  evil."11  And  it 
is  shown  to  be  useful  and  necessary  for  us, 
only  in  so  far  as  it  is  in  accordance  with  the 
word  of  God  and  its  powers,  as  is  said  "For 
the  word  of  God  is  quick  and  powerful,  and 
sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword,  and  reach- 
ing even  to  the  dividing  asunder  of  soul  and 
spirit,  of  both  joints  and  marrow,  and  a  dis- 


1  S.  Matt.  vi. 


2  S.  Matt.  vi.  22,  23.       3  Cf.  1  Sam.  xv. 


4  Cf.  1  Kings  xx. 

5  Eph.  iv.  26. 

6  Prov.  xi.  i4(LXX.). 
1  Ps.  ciii.  (civ.)  15. 


8  Prov.  xxxi.  3  (LXX.). 

9  Prov.  xxv.  2S  (LXX.). 

10  Prov.  xxiv.  3,  4  (LXX.). 

11  Heb.  v.  14. 


3io 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


cerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the 
heart:  "  *  and  by  this  it  is  clearly  shown  that 
no  virtue  can  possibly  be  perfectly  acquired  or 
continue  without  the  grace  of  discretion.  And 
so  by  the  judgment  of  the  blessed  Antony  as 
well  as  of  all  others  it  has  been  laid  down  that 
it  is  discretion  which  leads  a  fearless  monk  by 
fixed  stages  to  God,  and  preserves  the  virtues 
mentioned  above  continually  intact,  by  means 
of  which  one  may  ascend  with  less  weariness 
to  the  extreme  summit  of  perfection,  and 
without  which  even  those  who  toil  most  will- 
ingly cannot  reach  the  heights  of  perfection. 
For  discretion  is  the  mother  of  all  virtues,  as 
well  as  their  guardian  and  regulator. 


CHAPTER   V. 

Of  the  death  of  the  old  man  Heron. 

And  to  support  this  judgment  delivered 
of  old  by  the  blessed  Antony  and  the  other 
fathers  by  a  modern  instance,  as  we  promised 
to  do,  remember  what  you  lately  saw  happen 
before  your  very  eyes,  I  mean,  how  the  old 
man  Heron,2  only  a  very  few  days  ago  was 
cast  down  by  an  illusion  of  the  devil  from 
the  heights  to  the  depths,  a  man  whom  we 
remember  to  have  lived  for  fifty  years  in  this 
desert  and  to  have  preserved  a  strict  conti- 
nence with  especial  severity,  and  who  aimed  at 
the  secrecy  of  solitude  with  marvellous  fer- 
vour beyond  all  those  who  dwell  here.  By 
what  device  then  or  by  what  method  was  he 
deluded  by  the  deceiver  after  so  many  labours, 
and  falling  by  a  most  grievous  downfall  struck 
with  profound  grief  all  those  who  live  in  this 
desert?  Was  it  not  because,  having  too  little 
of  the  virtue  of  discretion  he  preferred  to 
be  guided  by  his  own  judgment  rather  than 
to  obey  the  counsels  and  conference  of  the 
brethren  and  the  regulations  of  the  elders? 
Since  he  ever  practised  incessant  abstinence 
and  fasting  with  such  severity,  and  persisted 
in  the  secrecy  of  solitude  and  a  monastic  cell 
so  constantly  that  not  even  the  observance  of 
the  Easter  festival  could  ever  persuade  him 
to  join  in  the  feast  with  the  brethren :  when 
in  accordance  with  the  annual  observance,  all 
the  brethren  remained  in  the  church  and  he 
alone  would  not  join  them  for  fear  lest  he 
might  seem  to  relax  in  some  degree  from  his 
purpose  by  taking  only  a  little  pulse.  And 
deceived  by  this  presumption  he  received  with 
the  utmost  reverence  an  angel  of  Satan  as 
an  angel  of  light  and  with  blind  slavishness 


1  Heb.  iv.  12. 

-  Gazseus  thinks  that  this  is  a  different  person  from  the  man  of 
the  same  name  mentioned  by  Palladius,  Hist.  Laus.  c.  xxxii. 


obeyed  his  commands  and  cast  himself  down 
a  well,  so  deep  that  the  eye  could  not  pierce 
its  depths,  nothing  doubting  of  the  promise  of 
the  angel  who  had  assured  him  that  the  merits 
of  his  virtues  and  labours  were  such  that  he 
could  not  possibly  run  any  risk.  And  that  he 
might  prove  the  truth  of  this  most  certainly 
by  experimenting  on  his  own  safety,  in  the 
dead  of  night  he  was  deluded  enough  to  cast 
himself  into  the  above  mentioned  well,  to 
prove  indeed  the  great  merit  of  his  virtue  if 
he  should  come  out  thence  unhurt.  And  when 
by  great  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  brethren  he 
had  been  got  out  already  almost  dead,  on  the 
third  day  afterward  he  expired,  and  what  was 
still  worse,  persisted  in  his  obstinate  delusion 
so  that  not  even  the  experience  of  his  death 
could  persuade  him  that  he  had  been  deceived 
by  the  craft  of  devils.  Wherefore  in  spite  of 
the  merits  of  his  great  labours  and  the  number 
of  years  which  he  had  spent  in  the  desert 
those  who  with  compassion  and  the  greatest 
kindness  pitied  his  end,  could  hardly  obtain 
from  Abbot  Paphnutius  3  that  he  should  not  be 
reckoned  among  suicides,  and  be  deemed  un- 
worthy of  the  memorial  and  oblation  for  those 
at  rest.4 

•  CHAPTER   VI. 

Of  the  destruction  of  two  brethren  for  lack  of  discretion. 

What  shall  I  say  of  those  two  brethren  who 
lived  beyond  that  desert  of  the  Thebaiid  where 
once  the  blessed  Antony  dwelt,  and,  not  being 
sufficiently  influenced  by  careful  discrimina- 
tion, when  they  were  going  through  the  vast 
and  extended  waste  determined  not  to  take 
any  food  with  them,  except  such  as  the  Lord 
Himself  might  provide  for  them.  And  when 
as  they  wandered  through  the  deserts  and  were 
already  fainting  from  hunger  they  were  spied 
at  a  distance  by  the  Mazices  6  (a  race  which 
is  even  more  savage  and  ferocious  than  almost 
all  wild  tribes,  for  they  are  not  driven  to  shed 
blood,  as  other  tribes  are,  from  desire  of  spoil 
but  from  simple  ferocity  of  mind),  and  when 
these  acting  contrary  to  their  natural  ferocity, 
met  them  with  bread,  one  of  the  two  as  dis- 
cretion came  to  his  aid,  received  it  with  de- 
light and  thankfulness  as  if  it  were  offered 
to   him  by  the   Lord,  thinking  that  the   food 


3  On  Paphnutius  see  the  note  on  III.  i. 

*  Pausantium,  i.e.,  those  at  rest.  The  word  is  used  for  the 
departed  in  a  similar  way  in  the  6th  Canon  of  the  Council  of  Au- 
relia  {Orleans)  a.d.  511.  "  Quando  recitantur  pausantium  nomina." 
And  the  phrase  "  Pausat  in  pace  "  is  occasionally  found  in  sepul- 
chral inscriptions.  Inscr.  Boldetti  Cimeter.  p.  399;  Inscr.  Maff. 
Gall.  Antiq.  p.  55. 

5  Mazices  :  a  people  of  Mauritania  Csesariensis,  who  joined  in 
the  revolt  of  Firmus,  but  submitted  to  Theodosius  in  373.  See 
Ammianus  Marcellinus  XXIX.  v.  §  17. 


SECOND   CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   MOSES. 


3ii 


had  been  divinely  provided  for  him,  and  that 
it  was  God's  doing  that  those  who  always  de- 
lighted in  bloodshed  had  offered  the  staff  of 
life  to  men  who  were  already  fainting  and 
dying;  but  the  other  refused  the  food  because 
it  was  offered  to  him  by  men  and  died  of  star- 
vation. And  though  this  sprang  in  the  first 
instance  from  a  persuasion  that  was  blame- 
worthy yet  one  of  them  by  the  help  of  discre- 
tion got  the  better  of  the  idea  which  he  had 
rashly  and  carelessly  conceived,  but  the  other 
persisting  in  his  obstinate  folly,  and  being 
utterly  lacking  in  discretion,  brought  upon 
himself  that  death  which  the  Lord  would  have 
averted,  as  he  would  not  believe  that  it  was 
owing  to  a  Divine  impulse  that  the  fierce 
barbarians  forgot  their  natural  ferocity  and 
offered  them  bread  instead  of  a  sword. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Of  an  illusion  into  which  another  fell  for  lack  of  discretion. 

Why  also  should  I  speak  of  one  (whose 
name  we  had  rather  not  mention  as  he  is  still 
alive),  who  for  a  long  while  received  a  devil 
in  the  brightness  of  an  angelic  form,  and  was 
often  deceived  by  countless  revelations  from 
him  and  believed  that  he  was  a  messenger  of 
righteousness:  for  when  these  were  granted, 
every  night  he  provided  a  light  in  his  cell 
without  the  need  of  any  lamp.  At  last  he 
was  ordered  by  the  devil  to  offer  up  to  God 
his  own  son  who  was  living  with  him  in  the 
monastery,  in  order  that  his  merits  might  by 
this  sacrifice  be  made  equal  to  those  of  the 
patriarch  Abraham.  And  he  was  so  far  se- 
duced by  his  persuasion  that  he  would  really 
have  committed  the  murder  unless  his  son 
had  seen  him  getting  ready  the  knife  and 
sharpening  it  with  unusual  care,  and  looking 
for  the  chains  with  which  he  meant  to  tie  him 
up  for  the  sacrifice  when  he  was  going  to  offer 
him  up ;  and  had  fled  away  in  terror  with  a 
presentiment  of  the  coming  crime. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Of  the  fall  and  deception  of  a  monk  of  Mesopotamia. 

It  is  a  long  business  too  to  tell  the  story  of 
the  deception  of  that  monk  of  Mesopotamia, 
who  observed  an  abstinence  that  could  be 
imitated  by  but  few  in  that  country,  which  he 
had  practised  for  many  years  concealed  in  his 
cell,  and  at  last  was  so  deceived  by  revela- 
tions and  dreams  that  came  from  the  devil 
that  after  so  many  labours  and  good  deeds,  in 


which  he  had  surpassed  all  those  who  dwelt 
in  the  same  parts,  he  actually  relapsed  mis- 
erably into  Judaism  and  circumcision  of  the 
flesh.  For  when  the  devil  by  accustoming 
him  to  visions  through  the  wish  to  entice  him 
to  believe  a  falsehood  in  the  end,  had  like  a 
messenger  of  truth  revealed  to  him  for  a  long 
while  what  was  perfectly  true,  at  length  he 
showed  him  Christian  folk  together  with  the 
leaders  of  our  religion  and  creed ;  viz.  Apostles 
and  Martyrs,  in  darkness  and  filth,  and  foul 
and  disfigured  with  all  squalor,  and  on  the 
other  hand  the  Jewish  people  with  Moses,  the 
patriarchs  and  prophets,  dancing  with  all  joy 
and  shining  with  dazzling  light;  and  so  per- 
suaded him  that  if  he  wanted  to  share  their 
reward  and  bliss,  he  must  at  once  submit  to 
circumcision.  And  so  none  of  these  would 
have  been  so  miserably  deceived,  if  they  had 
endeavoured  tc  obtain  a  power  of  discretion. 
Thus  the  mischances  and  trials  of  many  show 
how  dangerous  it  is  to  be  without  the  grace 
of  discretion. 

CHAPTER    IX. 

A  question  about  the  acquirement  of  true  discretion. 

To  this  Germanus  :  It  has  been  fully  and 
completely  shown  both  by  recent  instances 
and  by  the  decisions  of  the  ancients  how  dis- 
cretion is  in  some  sense  the  fountain  head  and 
the  root  of  all  virtues.  We  want  then  to 
learn  how  it  ought  to  be  gained,  or  how  we 
can  tell  whether  it  is  genuine  and  from  God, 
or  whether  it  is  spurious  and  from  the  devil : 
so  that  (to  use  the  figure  of  that  gospel  parable 
which  you  discussed  on  a  former  occasion,  in 
which  we  are  bidden  to  become  good  money 
changers  x)  we  may  be  able  to  see  the  figure 
of  the  true  king  stamped  on  the  coin  and  to  de- 
tect what  is  not  stamped  on  coin  that  is  current, 
and  that,  as  you  said  in  yesterday's  talk  using 
an  ordinary  expression,  we  may  reject  it  as 
counterfeit,  under  the  teaching  of  that  skill 
which  you  treated  of  with  sufficient  fulness  and 
detail,  and  showed  ought  to  belong  to  the 
man  who  is  spiritually  a  good  money  changer 
of  the  gospel.  For  of  what  good  will  it  be  to 
have  recognized  the  value  of  that  virtue  and 
grace  if  we  do  not  know  how  to  seek  for  it 
and  to  gain  it? 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  answer  how  true  discretion  may  be  gained. 

Then  Moses  :  True  discretion,  said  he,  is 
only  secured  by  true  humility.      And  of  this 


1  Cf.  I.  xx. 


12 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


is  by  the  power  of  confession 
so    to     speak,    from     his    dark 


humility  the  first  proof  is  given  by  reserving 
everything  (not  only  what  you  do  but  also  what 
you  think),  for  the  scrutiny  of  the  elders,  so 
as  not  to  trust  at  all  in  your  own  judgment 
but  to  acquiesce  in  their  decisions  in  all 
points,  and  to  acknowledge  what  ought  to  be 
considered  good  or  bad  by  their  traditions.1 
And  this  habit  will  not  only  teach  a  young 
man  to  walk  in  the  right  path  through  the 
true  way  of  discretion,  but  will  also  keep  him 
unhurt  by  all  the  crafts  and  deceits  of  the 
enemy.  For  a  man  cannot  possibly  be  de- 
ceived, who  lives  not  by  his  own  judgment  but 
according  to  the  example  of  the  elders,  nor 
will  our  crafty  foe  be  able  to  abuse  the  igno- 
rance of  one  who  is  not  accustomed  from 
false  modesty  to  conceal  all  the  thoughts 
which  rise  in  his  heart,  but  either  checks 
them  or  suffers  them  to  remain,  in  accordance 
with  the  ripened  judgment  of  the  elders.  For 
a  wrong  thought  is  enfeebled  at  the  moment 
that  it  is  discovered:  and  even  before  the 
sentence  of  discretion  has  been  given,  the 
foul  serpent 
dragged   out, 

under-ground  cavern,  and  in  some  sense  shown 
up  and  sent  away  in  disgrace.  For  evil 
thoughts  will  hold  sway  in  us  just  so  long  as 
they  are  hidden  in  the  heart:  and  that  you 
may  gather  still  more  effectually  the  power  of 
this  judgment  I  will  tell  you  what  Abbot 
Serapion  did,2  and  what  he  used  often  to  tell 
to  the  younger  brethren  for  their  edification. 


CHAPTER   XL 

The  words  of  Abbot  Serapion  on  the  decline  of  thoughts  that 
are  exposed  to  others,  and  also  on  the  danger  of  self-con- 
fidence. 

While,  said  he,  I  was  still  a  lad,  and  stop- 
ping with  Abbot  Theonas,3  this  habit  was 
forced  upon  me  by  the  assaults  of  the  enemy, 
that  after  I  had  supped  with  the  old  man  at 
the  ninth  hour,  I  used  every  day  secretly  to 
hide  a  biscuit  in  my  dress,  which  I  would  eat 
on  the  sly  later  on  without  his  knowing  it. 
And  though  I  was  constantly  guilty  of  the 
theft  with  the  consent  of  my  will,  and  the  want 
of  restraint  that  springs  from  desire  that  has 
grown  inveterate,  yet  when  my  unlawful  de- 
sire was  gratified  I  would  come  to  myself  and 
torment  myself  over  the  theft  committed  in  a 
way  that  overbalanced  the  pleasure  I  had  en- 
joyed in  the  eating.  And  when  I  was  forced 
not  without  grief   of  heatrt  to  fulfil   day  after 


1  Cf.  what  is  said  on  this  subject  in  the  Institutes,  Book  IV.  c.  ix. 

2  Probably  the  author  of  Conference  V.,  where  see  the  note  on 
i. 

3  See  the  note  on  Conf.  xxi.  i. 


day  this  most  heavy  task  required  of  me,  so 
to  speak,  by  Pharaoh's  taskmasters,  instead 
of  bricks,  and  could  not  escape  from  this  cruel 
tyranny,  and  yet  was  ashamed  to  disclose  the 
secret  theft  to  the  old  man,  it  chanced  by  the 
will  of  God  that  I  was  delivered  from  the  yoke 
of  this  voluntary  captivity,  when  certain 
brethren  had  sought  the  old  man's  cell  with 
the  object  of  being  instructed  by  him.  And 
when  after  supper  the  spiritual  conference  had 
begun  to  be  held,  and  the  old  man  in  answer 
to  the  questions  which  they  had  propounded 
was  speaking  about  the  sin  of  gluttony  and 
the  dominion  of  secret  thoughts,  and  showing 
their  nature  and  the  awful  power  which  they 
have  so  long  as  they  are  kept  secret,  I  was 
overcome  by  the  power  of  the  discourse  and 
was  conscience  stricken  and  terrified,  as  I 
thought  that  these  things  were  mentioned  by 
him  because  the  Lord  had  revealed  to  the  old 
man  my  bosom  secrets ;  and  first  I  was  moved 
to  secret  sighs,  and  then  my  heart's  compunc- 
tion increased  and  I  openly  burst  into  sobs 
and  tears,  and  produced  from  the  folds  of  my 
dress  which  shared  my  theft  and  received  it, 
the  biscuit  which  I  had  carried  off  in  my  bad 
habit  to  eat  on  the  sly;  and  I  laid  it  in  the 
midst  and  lying  on  the  ground  and  begging 
for  forgiveness  confessed  how  I  used  to  eat 
one  every  day  in  secret,  and  with  copious 
tears  implored  them  to  intreat  the  Lord  to 
free  me  from  this  dreadful  slavery.  Then 
the  old  man :  "  Have  faith,  my  child,"  said  he, 
"Without  any  words  of  mine,  your  confession 
frees  you  from  this  slavery.  For  you  have 
today  triumphed  over  your  victorious  adver- 
sary, by  laying  him  low  by  your  confession  in 
a  manner  which  more  than  makes  up  for  the 
way  in  which  you  were  overthrown  by  him 
through  your  former  silence,  as  when,  never 
confuting  him  with  your  own  answer  or  that 
of  another,  you  had  allowed  him  to  lord  it 
over  you,  according  to  that  saying  of  Solo- 
mon's :  'Because  sentence  is  not  speedily 
pronounced  against  the  evil,  the  heart  of  the 
children  of  men  is  full  within  them  to  do 
evil:  '4  and  therefore  after  this  exposure  of 
him  that  evil  spirit  will  no  longer  be  able 
to  vex  you,  nor  will  that  foul  serpent  hence- 
forth make  his  lurking  place  in  you,  as  he  has 
been  dragged  out  into  light  from  the  dark- 
ness by  your  life-giving  confession."  The  old 
man  had  not  finished  speaking  when  lo!  a 
burning  lamp  proceeding  from  the  folds  of 
my  dress  filled,  the  cell  with  a  sulphureous 
smell  so  that  the  pungency  of  the  odour  scarcely 
allowed  us  to  stay  there :  and  the  old  man 
resuming;  his  admonition  said  Lo !  the  Lord 


«  Eccl.  viii.  ii  (LXX/ 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    MOSES. 


313 


has  visibly  confirmed  to  you  the  truth  of 
my  words,  so  that  you  can  see  with  your  eyes 
how  he  who  was  the  author  of  His  Passion 
has  been  driven  out  from  your  heart  by  your 
life-giving  confession,  and  know  that  the 
enemy  who  has  been  exposed  will  certainly 
no  longer  find  a  home  in  you,  as  his  expulsion 
is  made  manifest.  And  so,  as  the  old  man 
declared,  said  he,  the  sway  of  that  diabolical 
tyranny  over  me  has  been  destroyed  by  the 
power  of  this  confession  and  stilled  for  ever, 
so  that  the  enemy  has  never  even  tried  to 
force  upon  me  any  more  the  recollection  of 
this  desire,  nor  have  I  ever  felt  myself  seized 
with  the  passion  of  that  furtive  longing.  And 
this  meaning  we  see  is  neatly  expressed  in 
a  figure  in  Ecclesiastes.  "If"  says  he  "a 
serpent  bite  without  hissing  there  is  no  suffi- 
ciency for  the  charmer,"1  showing  that  the 
bite  of  a  serpent  in  silence  is  dangerous,  i.e., 
if  a  suggestion  or  thought  springing  from  the 
devil  is  not  by  means  of  confession  shown  to 
some  charmer,  I  mean  some  spiritually  minded 
person  who  knows  how  to  heal  the  wound  at 
once  by  charms  from  the  Scripture,  and  to 
extract  the  deadly  poison  of  the  serpent  from 
the  heart,  it  will  be  impossible  to  help  the 
sufferer  who  is  already  in  danger  and  must 
soon  die.  In  this  way  therefore  we  shall 
easily  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  true  dis- 
cretion, so  as  by  following  the  steps  of  the 
Elders  never  to  do  anything  novel  nor  to 
decide  anything  by  or  on  our  own  responsibil- 
ity, but  to  walk  in  all  things  as  we  are  taught 
by  their  tradition  and  upright  life.  And  the 
man  who  is  strengthened  by  this  system  will 
not  only  arrive  at  the  perfect  method  of  dis- 
cretion, but  also  will  remain  perfectly  safe 
from  all  the  wiles  of  the  enemy:  for  by  no 
other  fault  does  the  devil  drag  down  a  monk 
so  precipitately  and  lead  him  away  to  death, 
as  when  he  persuades  him  to  despise  the 
counsel  of  the  Elders  and  to  rely  on  his  own 
opinion  and  judgment:  for  if  all  the  arts  and 
contrivances  discovered  by  man's  ingenuity 
and  those  which  are  only  useful  for  the  con- 
veniences of  this  temporary  life,  though  they 
can  be  felt  with  the  hand  and  seen  with 
the  eye,  can  yet  not  be  understood  by  anyone 
without  lessons  from  a  teacher,  how  foolish 
it  is  to  fancy  that  there  is  no  need  of  an  in- 
structor in  this  one  alone  which  is  invisible 
and  secret  and  can  only  be  seen  by  the  purest 
heart,  a  mistake  in  which  brings  about  no  mere 
temporary  loss  or  one  that  can  easily  be  re- 
paired, but  the  destruction  of  the  soul  and 
everlasting  death :  for  it  is  concerned  with  a 
daily  and  nightly  conflict  against  no  visible 

1  Eccl.  x.  n  (LXX.). 


foes,  but  invisible  and  cruel  ones,  and  a 
spiritual  combat  not  against  one  or  two  only, 
but  against  countless  hosts,  failure  in  which  is 
the  more  dangerous  to  all,  in  proportion  as 
the  foe  is  the  fiercer  and  the  attack  the  more 
secret.  And  therefore  we  should  always  fol- 
low the  footsteps  of  the  Elders  with  the  utmost 
care,  and  bring  to  them  everything  which 
rises  in  our  hearts,  by  removing  the  veil  of 
shame. 

CHAPTER   XII. 

A  confession  of  the  modesty  which  made  us  ashamed  to  reveal 
our  thoughts  to  the  elders. 

Germanus:  The  ground  of  that  hurtful 
modesty,  through  which  we  endeavour  to  hide 
bad  thoughts,  is  especially  owing  to  this 
reason;  viz.,  that  we  have  heard  of  a  superior 
of  the  Elders  in  the  region  of  Syria,  as  it  was 
believed,  who,  when  one  of  the  brethren  had 
laid  bare  his  thoughts  to  him  in  a  genuine 
confession,  was  afterwards  extremely  indig- 
nant and  severely  chid  him  for  them.  Whence 
it  results  that  while  we  press  them  upon  our- 
selves and  are  ashamed  to  make  them  known 
to  the  Elders,  we  cannot  obtain  the  remedies 
that  would  heal  them. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  answer  concerning  the  trampling  down  of  shame,  and  the 
danger  of  one  without  contrition. 

Moses:  Just  as  all  young  men  are  not  alike 
in  fervour  of  spirit  nor  equally  instructed  in 
learning  and  good  morals,  so  too  we  cannot  find 
that  all  old  men  are  equally  perfect  and  ex- 
cellent. For  the  true  riches  of  old  men  are 
not  to  be  measured  by  grey  hairs  but  by  their 
diligence  in  youth  and  the  rewards  of  their  past 
labours.  "  For, "  says  one,  "the  things  that 
thou  hast  not  gathered  in  thy  youth,  how  shalt 
thou  find  them  in  thy  old  age  ?  "  "  For  ven- 
erable old  age  is  not  that  of  long  time,  nor 
counted  by  the  number  of  years :  but  the  un- 
derstanding of  a  man  is  grey  hairs,  and  a 
spotless  life  is  old  age."  -  And  therefore  we 
are  not  to  follow  in  the  steps  or  embrace 
the  traditions  and  advice  of  every  old  man 
whose  head  is  covered  with  grey  hairs,  and 
whose  age  is  his  sole  claim  to  respect,  but 
only  of  those  whom  we  find  to  have  distin- 
guished themselves  in  youth  in  an  approved 
and  praiseworthy  manner,  and  to  have  been 
trained  up  no*  on  self-assurance  but  on  the 
traditions  of  the  Elders.      For  there  are  some, 


Ecclus.  xxv.  5 ;  Wisdom  iv.  8,  9. 


3H 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


and  unhappily  they  form  the  majority,  who 
pass  their  old  age  in  a  lukewarmness  which 
they  contracted  in  youth,  and  in  sloth,  and 
so  obtain  authority  not  from  the  ripeness  of 
their  character  but  simply  from  the  number 
of  their  years.  Against  whom  that  reproof  of 
the  Lord  is  specially  aimed  by  the  prophet: 
"  Strangers  have  devoured  his  strength  and 
he  knew  it  not:  yea,  grey  hairs  also  are 
spread  about  upon  him,  and  he  is  ignorant 
of  it."1  These  men,  I  say,  are  not  pointed 
out  as  examples  to  youth  from  the  upright- 
ness of  their  lives,  nor  from  the  strictness  of 
their  profession,  which  would  be  worthy  of 
praise  and  imitation,  but  simply  from  the 
number  of  their  years;  and  so  the  subtle 
enemy  uses  their  grey  hairs  to  deceive  the 
younger  men,  by  a  wrongful  appeal  to  their 
authority,  and  endeavours  in  his  cunning 
craftiness  to  upset  and  deceive  by  their  ex- 
ample those  who  might  have  been  urged  into 
the  way  of  perfection  by  their  advice  or  that 
of  others ;  and  drags  them  down  by  means  of 
their  teaching  and  practice  either  into  a  bane- 
ful indifference,  or  into  deadly  despair.  And 
as  I  want  to  give  you  an  instance  of  this,  I 
will  tell  you  a  fact  which  may  supply  us  with 
some  wholesome  teaching,  without  giving  the 
name  of  the  actor,  lest  we  might  be  guilty 
of  something  of  the  same  kind  as  the  man 
who  published  abroad  the  sins  of  the  brother 
which  had  been  disclosed  to  him.  When  this 
one,  who  was  not  the  laziest  of  young  men, 
had  gone  to  an  old  man,  whom  we  know  very 
well,  for  the  sake  of  the  profit  and  health  of 
his  soul,  and  had  candidly  confessed  that  he 
was  troubled  by  carnal  appetites  and  the 
spirit  of  fornication,  fancying  that  he  would 
receive  from  the  old  man's  words  consolation 
for  his  efforts,  and  a  cure  for  the  wounds 
inflicted  on  him,  the  old  man  attacked  him 
with  the  bitterest  reproaches,  and  ,called  him 
a  miserable  and  disgraceful  creature,  and  un- 
worthy of  the  name  of  monk,  while  he  could 
be  affected  by  a  sin  and  lust  of  this  character, 
and  instead  of  helping  him  so  injured  him  by 
his  reproaches  that  he  dismissed  him  from  his 
cell  in  a  state  of  hopeless  despair  and  deadly 
despondency.  And  when  he,  oppressed  with 
such  a  sorrow,  was  plunged  in  deep  thought, 
no  longer  how  to  cure  his  passion,  but  how  to 
gratify  his  lust,  the  Abbot  Apollos,2  the  most 
skilful  of  the  Elders,  met  him,  and  seeing  by 
his  looks  and  gloominess  his  trouble  and  the 

1  Hos.  vii.  9. 

2  Apollos  or  Apollonius  was  a  most  celebrated  hermit  of  the 
fourth  century,  who  finally  became  the  head  of  a  monastery  of  five 
hundred  brethren  in  the  Thebaid.  Some  accouVt  of  him  is  given  by 
Palladius  (Hist.  Laus.  c.  lii.)  and  Rufinus  (Hist.  Monach.  c.  vii.). 
Cf.  also  Sozomen  III.  xiv.;  and  VI.  xx.,  whence  we  learn  that  his 
life  was  written  by  Timothy,  Bishop  of  Alexandria.  Cassian  relates 
another  story  of  him  in  XXIV.  ix. 


violence  of  the  assault  which  he  was  secretly 
revolving  in  his  heart,  asked  him  the  reason 
of  this  upset;  and  when  he  could  not  possibly 
answer  the  old  man's  gentle  inquiry,  the 
latter  perceived  more  and  more  clearly  that 
it  was  not  without  reason  that  he  wanted  to 
hide  in  silence  the  cause  of  a  gloom  so  deep 
that  he  could  not  conceal  it  b}  his  looks,  and 
so  began  to  ask  him  still  more  earnestly  the 
reasons  for  his  hidden  grief.  And  by  this 
he  was  forced  to  confess  that  he  was  on  his 
way  to  a  village  to  take  a  wife,  and  leave  the 
monastery  and  return  to  the  world,  since,  as 
the  old  man  had  told  him,  he  could  not  be  a 
monk,  if  he  was  unable  to  control  the  desires 
of  the  flesh  and  to  cure  his  passion.  And 
then  the  old  man  smoothed  him  down  with 
kindly  consolation,  and  told  him  that  he  him- 
self was  daily  tried  by  the  same  pricks  of 
desire  and  lust,  and  that  therefore  he  ought 
not  to  give  way  to  despair,  nor  be  surprised 
at  the  violence  of  the  attack  of  which  he 
would  get  the  better  not  so  much  by  zealous 
efforts,  as  by  the  mercy  and  grace  of  the  Lord ; 
and  he  begged  him  to  put  off  his  intention 
just  for  one  day,  and  having  implored  him  to 
return  to  his  cell,  went  as  fast  as  he  could 
to  the  monastery  of  the  above  mentioned  old 
man  —  and  when  he  had  drawn  near  to  him 
he  stretched  forth  his  hands  and  prayed  with 
tears,  and  said  "  O  Lord,  who  alone  art  the 
righteous  judge  and  unseen  Physician  of  se- 
cret strength  and  human  weakness,  turn  the 
assault  from  the  young  man  upon  the  old 
one,  that  he  may  learn  to  condescend  to  the 
weakness  of  sufferers,  and  to  sympathize  even 
in  old  age  with  the  frailties  of  youth."  And 
when  he  had  ended  his  prayer  with  tears,  he 
sees  a  filthy  Ethiopian  standing  over  against 
his  cell  and  aiming  fiery  darts  at  him,  with 
which  he  was  straightway  wounded,  and  came 
out  of  his  cell  and  ran  about  hither  and  thither 
like  a  lunatic  or  a  drunken  man,  and  going  in 
and  out  could  no  longer  restrain  himself  in 
it,  but  began  to  hurry  off  in  the  same  direc- 
tion in  which  the  young  man  had  gone.  And 
when  Abbot  Apollos  saw  him  like  a  madman 
driven  wild  by  the  furies,  he  knew  that  the 
fiery  dart  of  the  devil  which  he  had  seen,  had 
been  fixed  in  his  heart,  and  had  by  its 
intolerable  heat  wrought  in  him  this  men- 
tal aberration  and  confusion  of  the  under- 
standing; and  so  he  came  up  to  him  and 
asked  "Whither  are  you  hurrying,  or  what 
has  made  you  forget  the  gravity  of  years  and 
disturbed  you  in  this  childish  way,  and  made 
you  hurry  about  so  rapidly  "  ?  And  when  he 
owing  to  his  guilty  conscience  and  confused 
by  this  disgraceful  excitement  fancied  that 
the  lust  of  his  heart  was  discovered,  and,  as 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    MOSES. 


315 


the  secrets  of  his  heart  were  known  to  the  old 
man,  did  not  venture  to  return  any  answer  to 
his  inquiries,  "Return,"  said  he,  "to  your 
cell,  and  at  last  recognize  the  fact  that  till 
now  you  have  been  ignored  or  despised  by 
the  devil,  and  not  counted  in  the  number  of 
those  with  whom  he  is  daily  roused  to  fight 
and  struggle  against  their  efforts  and  earnest- 
ness,—  you  who  could  not  —  I  will  not  say 
ward  off,  but  not  even  postpone  for  one  day, 
a  single  dart  of  his  aimed  at  you  after  so 
many  years  spent  in  this  profession  of  yours. 
And  with  this  the  Lord  has  suffered  you  to 
be  wounded  that  you  may  at  least  learn  in 
your  old  age  to  sympathize  with  infirmities  to 
which  you  are  a  stranger,  and  may  know  from 
your  own  case  and  experience  how  to  conde- 
scend to  the  frailties  of  the  young,  though 
when  you  received  a  young  man  troubled  by 
an  attack  from  the  devil,  you  did  not  en- 
courage him  with  any  consolation,  but  gave 
him  up  in  dejection  and  destructive  despair 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  to  be,  as  far  as 
you  were  concerned,  miserably  destroyed  by 
him.  But  the  enemy  would  certainly  never 
have  attacked  him  with  so  fierce  an  onslaught, 
with  which  he  has  up  till  now  scorned  to 
attack  you,  unless  in  his  jealousy  at  the  pro- 
gress he  was  to  make,  he  had  endeavoured  to 
get  the  better  of  that  virtue  which  he  saw  lay 
in  his  disposition,  and  to  destroy  it  with  his 
fiery  darts,  as  he  knew  without  the  shadow  of 
a  doubt  that  he  was  the  stronger,  since  he 
deemed  it  worth  his  while  to  attack  him  with 
such  vehemence.  And  so  learn  from  your 
own  experience  to  sympathize  with  those  in 
trouble,  and  never  to  terrify  with  destructive 
despair  those  who  are  in  danger,  nor  harden 
them  with  severe  speeches,  but  rather  restore 
them  with  gentle  and  kindly  consolations, 
and  as  the  wise  Solomon  says,  "  Spare  not  to 
deliver  those  who  are  led  forth  to  death,  and 
to  redeem  those  who  are  to  be  slain,"  1  and 
after  the  example  of  our  Saviour,  break  not 
the  bruised  reed,  nor  quench  the  smoking 
flax,2  and  ask  of  the  Lord  that  grace,  by 
means  of  which  you  yourself  may  faithfully 
learn  both  in  deed  and  power  to  sing:  "the 
Lord  hath  given  me  a  learned  tongue  that  I 
should  know  how  to  uphold  by  word  him  that 
is  weary:  "  3  for  no  one  could  bear  the  devices 
of  the  enemy,  or  extinguish  or  repress  those 
carnal  fires  which  burn  with  a  sort  of  natural 
flame,  unless  God's  grace  assisted  our  weak- 
ness, or  protected  and  supported  it.  And 
therefore,  as  the  reason  for  this  salutary  inci- 
dent is  over,  by  which  the  Lord  meant  to  set 
that  young  man  free  from  dangerous  desires 


1  Prov.  xxiv.  11.  2  Cf.  S.  Matt.  xii.  20. 


3  Is.  1.  4. 


and  to  teach  you  something  of  the  violence  of 
their  attack,  and  of  the  feeling  of  compassion, 
let  us  together  implore  Him  in  prayer,  that 
He  may  be  pleased  to  remove  that  scourge, 
which  the  Lord  thought  good  to  lay  upon  you 
for  your  good  (for  "  He  maketh  sorry  and 
cureth:  he  striketh  and  his  hands  heal.  He 
humbleth  and  exalteth,  he  killeth  and  mak- 
eth alive:  he  bringeth  down  to  the  grave 
and  bringeth  up  ")4,  and  may  extinguish  with 
the  abundant  dew  of  His  Spirit  the  fiery 
darts  of  the  devil,  which  at  my  desire  He 
allowed  to  wound  you.  And  although  the 
Lord  removed  this  temptation  at  a  single 
prayer  of  the  old  man  with  the  same  speed 
with  which  He  had  suffered  it  to  come  upon 
him,  yet  He  showed  by  a  clear  proof  that  a 
man's  faults  when  laid  bare  were  not  merely 
not  to  be  scolded,  but  that  the  grief  of  one 
in  trouble  ought  not  to  be  lightly  despised. 
And  therefore  never  let  the  clumsiness  or 
shallowness  of  one  old  man  or  of  a  few  deter 
you  and  keep  you  back  from  that  life-giving 
way, of  which  we  spoke  earlier,  or  from  the  tra- 
dition of  the  Elders,  if  our  crafty  enemy  makes 
a  wrongful  use  of  their  grey  hairs  in  order  to 
deceive  younger  men :  but  without  any  cloak 
of  shame  everything  should  be  disclosed  to 
the  Elders,  and  remedies  for  wounds  be  faith- 
fully received  from  them  together  with  exam- 
ples of  life  and  conversation :'  from  which 
we  shall  find  like  help  and  the  same  sort  of 
result,  if  we  try  to  do  nothing  at  all  on  our 
own  responsibility  and  judgment. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Of  the  call  of  Samuel. 

Lastly  so  far  has  this  opinion  been  shown 
to  be  pleasing  to  God  that  we  see  that  this 
system  not  without  reason  finds  a  place  in 
holy  Scripture,  so  that  the  Lord  would  not 
of  Himself  instruct  by  the  method  of  a  Divine 
colloquy  the  lad  Samuel,  when  chosen  for 
judgment,  but  suffered  him  to  run  once  or 
twice  to  the  old  man,  and  willed  that  one 
whom  He  was  calling  to  converse  with  Him 
should  be  taught  even  by  one  who  had  offended 
God,  as  he  was  an  old  man,  and  preferred 
that  he  whom  He  had  deemed  worthy  to  be 
called  by  Him  should  be  trained  by  the  Elder 
in  order  to  test  the  humility  of  him  who  was 
called  to  a  Divine  office,  and  to  set  an  example 
to  the  younger  men  by  the  manner  of  his  sub- 
jection. 


4  Job  v.  1S;   1  Sam.  ii.  6,  7. 


31.6 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Of  the  call  of  the  Apostle  Paul. 

And  when  Christ  in  His  own  Person  called 
and  addressed  Paul,  although  He  might  have 
opened  out  to  him  at  once  the  way  of  per- 
fection, yet  He  chose  rather  to  direct  him  to 
Ananias  and  commanded  him  to  learn  the 
way  of  truth  from  him,  saying:  "Arise  and 
go  into  the  city  and  there  it  shall  be  told  thee 
what  thou  oughtest  to  do."1  So  He  sends 
him  to  an  older  man,  and  thinks  good  to  have 
him  instructed  by  his  teaching  rather  than 
His  own,  lest  what  might  have  been  rightly 
done  in  the  case  of  Paul  might  set  a  bad 
example  of  self-sufficiency,  if  each  one  were  to 
persuade  himself  that  he  also  ought  in  like 
manner  to  be  trained  by  the  government  and 
teaching  of  God  alone  rather  than  by  the  in- 
struction of  the  Elders.  And  this  self-suffi- 
ciency the  apostle  himself  teaches,  not  only  by 
his  letters  but  by  his  acts  and  deeds,  ought 
to  be  shunned  with  all  possible  care,  as  he 
says  that  he  went  up  to  Jerusalem  solely  for 
this  reason;  viz.,  to  communicate  in  a  pri- 
vate and  informal  conference  with  his  co- 
apostles  and  those  who  were  before  him 
that  Gospel  which  he  preached  to  the  Gen- 
tiles, the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit  accompany- 
ing him  with  powerful  signs  and  wonders : 
as  he  says  "And  I  communicated  with  them 
the  Gospel  which  I  preach  among  the  Gen- 
tiles lest  perhaps  I  had  run  or  should  run  in 
vain."2  Who  then  is  so  self-sufficient  and 
blind  as  to  dare  to  trust  in  his  own  judgment 
and  discretion  when  the  chosen  vessel  con- 
fesses that  he  had  need  of  conference  with  his 
fellow  apostles.  Whence  we  clearly  see  that 
the  Lord  does  not  Himself  show  the  way  of 
perfection  to  anyone  who  having  the  oppor- 
tunity of  learning  depises  the  teaching  and 
training  of  the  Elders,  paying  no  heed  to 
that  saying  which  ought  most  carefully  to  be 
observed:  "Ask  thy  father  and  he  will  show 
it  to  thee:  thine  Elders  and  they  will  tell 
thee."3 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

How  to  seek  for  discretion. 

We  ought  then  with  all  our  might  to  strive 
for  the  virtue  of  discretion  by  the  power  of 
humility,  as  it  will  keep  us  uninjured  by 
either  extreme,  for  there  is  an  old  saying 
uxootijts;  /fT07?/7fc,  i.e.,  extremes  meet.  For 
excess  of  fasting  and  gluttony  come  to  the 
same  thing,  and  an  unlimited  continuance  of 


:  Gal.  ii.  2. 


3  Deut.  xxxii.  7. 


vigils  is  equally  injurious  to  a  monk  as  the  tor- 
por of  a  deep  sleep :  for  when  a  man  is  weak- 
ened by  excessive  abstinence  he  is  sure  to 
return  to  that  condition  in  which  a  man  is  kept 
through  carelessness  and  negligence,  so  that 
we  have  often  seen  those  who  could  not  be 
deceived  by  gluttony,  destroyed  by  excessive 
fasting  and  by  reason  of  weakness  liable  to 
that  passion  which  they  had  before  overcome. 
Unreasonable  vigils  and  nightly  watchings 
have  also  been  the  ruin  of  some  whom  sleep 
could  not  get  the  better  of :  wherefore  as  the 
apostle  says  "with  the  arms  of  righteousness 
on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left,"  i  we  pass 
on  with  due  moderation,  and  walk  between 
the  two  extremes,  under  the  guidance  of  dis- 
cretion, that  we  may  not  consent  to  be  led 
away  from  the  path  of  continence  marked  out 
for  us,  nor  fall  by  undue  carelessness  into  the 
pleasures  of  the  palate  and  belly. 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

On  excessive  fasts  and  vigils. 

For  I  remember  that  I  had  so  often  resisted 
the  desire  for  food,  that  having  abstained 
from  taking  any  for  two  or  three  days,  my 
mind  was  not  troubled  even  by  the  recollec- 
tion of  any  eatables  and  also  that  sleep  was 
by  the  assaults  of  the  devil  so  far  removed 
from  my  eyes,  that  for  several  days  and 
nights  I  used  to  pray  the  Lord  to  grant  a  little 
sleep  to  my  eyes ;  and  then  I  felt  that  I  was  in 
greater  peril  from  the  want  of  food  and  sleep 
than  from  struggling  against  sloth  and  glut- 
tony. And  so  as  we  ought  to  be  careful 
not  to  fall  into  dangerous  effeminacy  through 
desire  for  bodily  gratification,  nor  indulge 
ourselves  with  eating  before  the  right  time 
nor  take  too  much,  so  also  we  ought  to  refresh 
ourselves  with  food  and  sleep  at  the  proper 
time  even  if  we  dislike  it.  For  the  struggle 
in  each  case  is  caused  by  the  devices  of  the 
enemy;  and  excessive  abstinence  is  still  more 
injurious  to  us  than  careless  satiety:  for  from 
this  latter  the  intervention  of  a  healthy  com- 
punction will  raise  us  to  the  right  measure  of 
strictness,  and  not  from  the  former. 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

A  question  on  the  right  measure  of  abstinence  and  refreshment. 

Germanus:  What  then  is  the  measure  of 
abstinence  by  keeping  which  with  even  ba- 
lance we  shall  succeed  in  passing  unharmed 
between  the  two  extremes  ? 

4  2  Cor.  vi.  7. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   MOSES. 


317 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Of  the  best  plan  for  our  daily  food. 

Moses  :  On  this  matter  we  are  aware  that 
there  have  been  frequent  discussions  among 
our  Elders.  For  in  discussing  the  abstinence 
of  some  who  supported  their  lives  continually 
on  nothing  but  beans  or  only  on  vegetables 
and  fruits,  they  proposed  to  all  of  them  to 
partake  of  bread  alone,  the  right  measure  of 
which  they  fixed  at  two  biscuits,  so  small  that 
they  assuredly  scarcely  weighed  a  pound. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

An  objection  on  the  ease  of  that  abstinence  in  which  a  man  is 
sustained  by  two  biscuits. 

And  this  we  gladly  embraced,  and  answered 
that  we  should  scarcely  consider  this  limit  as 
abstinence,  as  we  could  not  possibly  reach  it 
entirely. 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

The  answer  concerning  the  value  and  measure  of  well-proved 
abstinence. 

Moses  :  If  you  want  to  test  the  force  of  this 
rule,  keep  to  this  limit  continually,  never 
departing  from  it  by  taking  any  cooked  food 
even  on  Sunday  or  Saturday,  or  on  the  occa- 
sions of  the  arrival  of  any  of  the  brethren; 
for  the  flesh,  refreshed  by  these  exceptions,  is 
able  not  only  to  support  itself  through  the 
rest  of  the  week  on  a  smaller  quantity,  but 
can  also  postpone  all  refreshment  without 
difficulty,  as  it  is  sustained  by  the  addition 
of  that  food  which  it  has  taken  beyond  the 
limit;  while  the  man  who  has  always  been 
satisfied  with  the  full  amount  of  the  above- 
mentioned  measure  will  never  be  able  to  do 
this,  nor  to  put  off  breaking  his  fast  till  the 
morrow.  For  I  remember  that  our  Elders 
(and  I  recollect  that  we  ourselves  also  often 
had  the  same  experience)  found  it  so  hard 
and  difficult  to  practise  this  abstinence,  and 
observed  the  rule  laid  down  with  such  pain 
and  hunger  that  it  was  almost  against  their 
will  and  with  tears  and  lamentation  that  they 
set  this  limit  to  their  meals. 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

What  is  the  usual  limit  both  of  abstinence  and  of  partaking 
food. 

_  But  this  is  the  usual  limit  of  abstinence ; 
viz.,   for  everyone  to  allow  himself  food  ac- 


cording to  the  requirements  of  his  strength  or 
bodily  frame  or  age,  in  such  quantity  as  is 
required  for  the  support  of  the  flesh,  and  not 
for  the  satisfactory  feeling  of  repletion.  For 
on  both  sides  a  man  will  suffer  the  greatest 
injury,  if  having  no  fixed  rule  at  one  time  he 
pinches  his  stomach  with  meagre  food  and 
fasts,  and  at  another  stuffs  it  by  over-eating 
himself;  for  as  the  mind  which  is  enfeebled 
for  lack  of  food  loses  vigour  in  praying,  while 
it  is  worn  out  with  excessive  weakness  of 
the  flesh  and  forced  to  doze,  so  again  when 
weighed  down  with  over-eating  it  cannot  pour 
forth  to  God  pure  and  free  prayers:  nor  will 
it  succeed  in  preserving  uninterruptedly  the 
purity  of  its  chastity,  while  even  on  those 
days  on  which  it  seems  to  chastise  the  flesh 
with  severer  abstinence,  it  feeds  the  fire  of 
carnal  desire  with  the  fuel  of  the  food  that  it 
has  already  taken. 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Quemadmodum  abundantia  umorum  genitalium  castigetur.l 

Nam  quod  semel  per  escarum  abundantian 
concretus  fuerit  in  medullis,  necesse  est  egeri 
atque  ab  ipsa  naturae  lege  propelli,  quae  exu- 
berantiam  cujuslibet  umoris  superflui  velut 
noxiam  sibi  atque  contrariam  in  semet  ipsa 
residere  non  patitur  ideoque  rationabili  sem- 
per et  aequali  est  corpus  nostrum  parsimonia 
castigandum,  ut  si  naturali  hac  necessitate 
commorantes  in  carne  omnimodis  carere  non 
possumus,  saltim  rarius  nos  et  non  amplius 
quamtrina  vice  ista  conluvione  respersos  totius 
anni  cursus  inveniat,  quod  tamen  sine  ullo 
pruritu  quietus  egerat  sopor,  non  fallax  imago 
index  occultae  voluptatis  eliciat. 

Wherefore  this  is  the  moderate  and  even 
allowance  and  measure  of  abstinence,  of 
which  we  spoke,  which  has  the  approval  also 
of  the  judgment  of  the  fathers;  viz.,  that  daily 
hunger  should  go  hand  in  hand  with  our  daily 
meals,  preserving  both  body  and  soul  in  one 
and  the  same  condition,  and  not  allowing  the 
mind  either  to  faint  through  weariness  from 
fasting,  nor  to  be  oppressed  by  over-eating, 
for  it  ends  in  such  a  sparing  diet  that  some- 
times a  man  neither  notices  nor  remembers  in 
the  evening  that  he  has  broken  his  fast. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Of  the  difficulty  of  uniformity  in  eating;  and  of  the  gluttony 
of  brother  Benjamin. 

And  so  far  is  this  not  done  without  diffi- 
culty, that  those  who  know  nothing  of  perfect 


1  It  has  been  thought  best  to  leave  the  first  part  of  the  following 
chapter  untranslated. 


3i8 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


discretion  would  rather  prolong  their  fasts  for 
two  days,  and  reserve  for  tomorrow  what 
they  should  have  eaten  today,  so  that  when 
they  come  to  partake  of  food  they  may  enjoy 
as  much  as  they  can  desire.  And  you  know 
that  lastly  your  fellow  citizen  Benjamin  most 
obstinately  stuck  to  this:  as  he  would  not 
every  day  partake  of  his  two  biscuits,  nor 
continually  take  his  meagre  fare  with  uniform 
self-discipline,  but  preferred  always  to  con- 
tinue his  fasts  for  two  days  that  when  he  came 
to  eat  he  might  fill  his  greedy  stomach  with 
a  double  portion,  and  by  eating  four  biscuits 
enjoy  a  comfortable  sense  of  repletion,  and 
manage  to  fill  his  belly  by  means  of  a  two 
days'  fast.  And  you  doubtless  remember 
what  sort  of  an  end  there  was  to  the  life  of 
this  man  who  obstinately  and  pertinaciously 
relied  on  his  own  judgment  rather  than  on 
the  traditions  of  the  Elders,  for  he  forsook 
the  desert  and  returned  back  to  the  vain  phi- 
losophy of  this  world  and  earthly  vanities, 
and  so  confirmed  the  above  mentioned  opinion 
of  the  Elders  by  the  example  of  his  downfall, 
and  by  his  destruction  teaches  a  lesson  that 
no  one  who  trusts  in  his  own  opinion  and 
judgment  can  possibly  climb  the  heights  of 
perfection,  nor  fail  to  be  deceived  by  the 
dangerous  wiles  of  the  devil. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

A  question  how  is  it  possible  always  to  observe  one  and  the 
same  measure. 

Germanus:  How  then  can  we  observe  this 
measure  without  ever  breaking  it  ?  for  some- 
times at  the  ninth  hour  when  the  Station  fast1 
is  over,  brethren  come  to  see  us  and  then  we 
must  either  for  their  sakes  add  something  to 
our  fixed  and  customary  portion,  or  certainly 
fail  in  that  courtesy  which  we  are  told  to  show 
to  everybody. 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 

The  answer  how  we  should  not  exceed  the  proper  measure  of 
food. 

Moses  :  Both  duties  must  be  observed  in 
the  same  way  and  with  equal  care :  for  we 
ought  most  scrupulously  to  preserve  the 
proper  allowance  of  food  for  the  sake  of  our 


1  On  the  Statio  see  the  note  on  the  Institutes  V.  xx. 


abstinence,  and  in  like  manner  out  of  charity 
to  show  courtesy  and  encouragement  to  any  of 
the  brethren  who  may  arrive ;  because  it  is 
absolutely  ridiculous  when  you  offer  food  to  a 
brother,  nay,  to  Christ  Himself,  not  to  par- 
take of  it  with  him,  but  to  make  yourself  a 
stranger  to  his  repast.  And  so  we  shall  keep 
clear  of  guilt  on  either  hand  if  we  observe  this 
plan;  viz.,  at  the  ninth  hour  to  partake  of  one 
of  the  two  biscuits  which  form  our  proper 
canonical  allowance,  and  to  keep  back  the 
other  to  the  evening,  in  expectation  of  some- 
thing like  this,  that  if  any  of  the  brethren 
comes  to  see  us  we  may  partake  of  it  with  him, 
and  so  add  nothing  to  our  own  customary  al- 
lowance :  and  by  this  arrangement  the  arrival 
of  our  brother  which  ought  to  be  a  pleasure  to 
us  will  cause  us  no  inconvenience :  since  we 
shall  show  him  the  civilities  which  courtesy 
requires  in  such  a  way  as  to  relax  nothing  of 
the  strictness  of  our  abstinence.  But  if  no 
one  should  come,  we  may  freely  take  this  last 
biscuit  as  belonging  to  us  according  to  our 
canonical  rule,  and  by  this  frugality  of  ours  as 
a  single  biscuit  was  taken  at  the  ninth  hour, 
our  stomach  will  not  be  overloaded  at  even- 
tide, a  thing  which  is  often  the  case  with 
those  who  under  the  idea  that  they  are  observ- 
ing a  stricter  abstinence  put  off  all  their  repast 
till  evening;  for  the  fact  that  we  have  but 
recently  taken  food  hinders  our  intellect  from 
being  bright  and  keen  both  in  our  evening  and 
in  our  nocturnal  prayers,  and  so  at  the  ninth 
hour  a  convenient  and  suitable  time  has  been 
allowed  for  food,  in  which  a  monk  can  refresh 
himself  and  so  find  that  he  is  not  only  fresh 
and  bright  during  his  nocturnal  vigils,  but 
also  perfectly  ready  for  his  evening  prayers, 
as  his  food  is  already  digested. 

With  such  a  banquet  of  two  courses,  as  it 
were,  the  holy  Moses  feasted  us,  showing  us 
not  only  the  grace  and  power  of  discretion 
by  his  present  learned  speech,  but  also  the 
method  of  renunciation  and  the  end  and  aim 
of  the  monastic  life  by  the  discussion  previ- 
ously held;  so  as  to  make  clearer  than  day- 
light what  \ve  had  hitherto  pursued  simply 
with  fervour  of  spirit  and  zeal  for  God  but 
with  closed  eyes,  and  to  make  us  feel  how  far 
we  had  up  till  then  wandered  from  purity  of 
heart  and  the  straight  line  of  our  course,  since 
the  practice  of  all  visible  arts  belonging  to 
this  life  cannot  possibly  stand  without  an  un- 
derstanding of  their  aim,  nor  can  it  be  taken 
in  hand  without  a  clear  view  of  a  definite  end. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    PAPHNUTIUS. 


3J9 


III. 


CONFERNECE   OF   ABBOT   PAPHNUTIUS. 

ON  THE    THREE    SORTS    OF  RENUNCIATIONS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Of  the  life  and  conduct  of  Abbot  Paphnutius. 

In  that  choir  of  saints  who  shine  like  bril- 
liant stars  in  the  night  of  this  world,  we  have 
seen  the  holy  Paphnutius,1  like  some  great 
luminary,  shining  with  the  brightness  of 
knowledge.  For  he  was  a  presbyter  of  our 
company,  I  mean  of  those  whose  abode  was  in 
the  desert  of  Scete,  where  he  lived  to  extreme 
old  age,  without  ever  moving  from  his  cell,  of 
which  he  had  taken  possession  when  still 
young,  and  which  was  five  miles  from  the 
church,  even  to  nearer  districts ;  nor  was  he 
when  worn  out  with  years  hindered  by  the 
distance  from  going  to  Church  on  Saturday 
or  Sunday.  But  not  wanting  to  return  from 
thence  empty  handed  he  would  lay  on  his 
shoulders  a  bucket  of  water  to  last  him  all  the 
week,  and  carry  it  back  to  his  cell,  and  even 
when  he  was  past  ninety  would  not  suffer  it  to 
be  fetched  by  the  labour  of  younger  men.  He 
then  from  his  earliest  youth  threw  himself 
into  the  monastic  discipline  with  such  fervour 
that  when  he  had  spent  only  a  short  time  in 
it,  he  was  endowed  with  the  virtue  of  submis- 
sion, as  well  as  the  knowledge  of  all  good 
qualities.  For  by  the  practice  of  humility 
and  obedience  he  mortified  all  his  desires, 
and  by  this  stamped  out  all  his  faults  and 
acquired  every  virtue  which  the  monastic 
system  and  the  teaching  of  the  ancient  fathers 
produces,  and,  inflamed  with  desire  for  still 
further  advances,  he  was  eager  to  penetrate 
into  the  recesses  of  the  desert,  so  that,  with 
no    human    companions    to    disturb    him,    he 


1  Paphnutius.  The  name  is  not  uncommon  in  the  annals  of  the 
fourth  century :  (i)  A  Deacon  who  bore  it  suffered  in  the  persecu- 
tion of  Diocletian ;  and  (2)  a  Bishop  of  the  same  name,  who  had 
been  a  confessor,  was  mainly  instrumental  in  preventing  the  rule  of 
celibacy  being  forced  on  the  clergy  by  the  Council  of  Nicsea ;  (3) 
another  was  a  prominent  member  of  the  Meletian  schism ;  while 
(4)  a  fourth  was  present,  as  Bishop  of  Sais  in  Lower  Egypt,  at  the 
Council  of  Alexandria  in  362  ;  and  (5)  the  life  of  a  fifth  is  given  by 
Palladius  (Hist.  Laus.  lxii.-lxv.)  and  Rufinus  (Hist.  Monach.  c. 
xvi.).  The  one  whom  Cassian  here  mentions,  surnamed  the  Buf- 
falo, is  apparently  a  different  person  from  the  last  mentioned. 
Further  details  of  his  history  are  given  in  the  Institutes  IV.  c.  xxx. 
xxxi.,  and  in  Conference  X.  ii.,  iii.  Cassian  tells  the  interesting 
/  story  of  his  share  in  the  Anthropomorphite  controversy,  and  the 
beneficial  influence  which  he  then  exercised. 


might  be  more  readily  united  to  the  Lord,  to 
whom  he  longed  to  be  inseparably  joined, 
even  while  he  still  lived  in  the  society  of  the 
brethren.  And  there  once  more  in  his  exces- 
sive fervour  he  outstripped  the  virtues  of  the 
Anchorites,  and  in  his  eager  desire  for  con- 
tinual divine  meditation  avoided  the  sight  of 
them:  and  he  plunged  into  solitary  places 
yet  wilder  and  more  inaccessible,  and  hid 
himself  for  a  long  while  in  them,  so  that,  as 
the  Anchorites  themselves  only  with  great 
difficulty  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  every  now 
and  then,  the  belief  was  that  he  enjoyed  and 
delighted  in  the  daily  society  of  angels, 
and  because  of  this  remarkable  characteristic 
of  his 2  he  was  surnamed  by  them  the  Buffalo. 


CHAPTER   II. 

Of  the  discourse  of  the  same  old  man,  and  our  reply  to  it. 

As  then  we  were  anxious  to  learn  from 
his  teaching,  we  came  in  some  agitation  to 
his  cell  towards  evening.  And  after  a  short 
silence  he  began  to  commend  our  undertaking, 
because  we  had  left  our  homes,  and  had  visited 
so  many  countries  out  of  love  for  the  Lord,  and 
were  endeavouring  with  all  our  might  to  en- 
dure want  and  the  trials  of  the  desert,  and  to 
imitate  their  severe  life,  which  even  those 
who  had  been  born  and  bred  in  the  same  state 
of  want  and  penury,  could  scarcely  put  up 
with;  and  we  replied  that  we  had  come  for 
his  teaching  and  instruction  in  order  that  we 
might  be  to  some  extent  initiated  in  the  cus- 
toms of  so  great  a  man,  and  in  that  perfection 
which  we  had  known  from  many  evidences  to 
exist  in  him,  not  that  we  might  be  honoured 
by  any  commendations  to  which  we  had  no 
right,  or  be  puffed  up  with  any  elation  of 
mind,  (with  which  we  were  sometimes  exer- 
cised in  our  own  cells  at  the  suggestion  of 
our  enemy)  in  consequence  of  any  words  of  his. 
Wherefore  we  begged  him  rather  to  lay  before 
us  what  would  make  us  humble  and  contrite, 
and  not  what  would  flatter  us  and  puff  us  up. 


2  i.e.,  his  solitariness. 


320 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER   III. 

The  statement  of  Abbot  Paphnutius  on  the  three  kinds  of 
vocations,  and  the  three  sorts  of  renunciations. 

Then  the  blessed  Paphnutius:  There 
are,  said  he,  three  kinds  of  vocations.  And 
we  know  that  there  are  three  sorts  of  renun- 
ciations as  well,  which  are  necessary  to  a 
monk,  whatever  his  vocation  may  be.  And 
we  ought  diligently  to  examine  first  the  reason 
for  which  we  said  that  there  were  three  kinds 
of  vocations,  that  when  we  are  sure  that  we  are 
summoned  to  God's  service  in  the  first  stage 
of  our  vocation,  we  may  take  care  that  our  life 
is  in  harmony  with  the  exalted  height  to 
which  we  are  called,  for  it  will  be  of  no  use 
to  have  made  a  good  beginning  if  we  do  not 
show  forth  an  end  corresponding  to  it.  But 
if  we  feel  that  only  in  the  last  resort  have  we 
been  dragged  away  from  a  worldly  life,  then, 
as  it  appears  that  we  rest  on  a  less  satisfac- 
tory beginning  as  regards  religion,  so  must  we 
proportionately  make  the  more  earnest  en- 
deavours to  rouse  ourselves  with  spiritual  fer- 
vour to  make  a  better  end.  It  is  well  too  on 
every  ground  for  us  to  know  secondly  the 
manner  of  the  threefold  renunciations  because 
we  shall  never  be  able  to  attain  perfection,  if 
we  are  ignorant  of  it  or  if  we  know  it,  but  do 
not  attempt  to  carry  it  out  in  act. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

An  explanation  of  the  three  callings. 

To  make  clear  therefore  the  main  differ- 
ences between  these  three  kinds  of  calling, 
the  first  is  from  God,  the  second  comes 
through  man,  the  third  is  from  compulsion. 
And  a  calling  is  from  God  whenever  some  in- 
spiration has  taken  possession  of  our  heart, 
and  even  while  we  are  asleep  stirs  in  us  a 
desire  for  eternal  life  and  salvation,  and  bids 
us  follow  God  and  cleave  to  His  command- 
ments with  life-giving  contrition:  as  we  read 
in  Holy  Scripture  that  Abraham  was  called 
by  the  voice  of  the  Lord  from  his  native 
country,  and  all  his  dear  relations,  and  his 
father's  house;  when  the  Lord  said  "Get  thee 
out  from  thy  country  and  from  thy  kinsfolk 
and  from  thy  father's  house."  *  And  in  this 
way  we  have  heard  that  the  blessed  Antony 
also  was  called,2  the  occasion  of  whose  con- 


1  Gen.  xii.  i. 

2  The  story,  to  which  allusion  is  here  made,  is  given  in  the  Vita 
Antonii  of  Athanasius.  We  are  there  told  that  six  months  after  the 
death  of  his  parents  Antony,  then  a  young  man  of  eighteen,  chanced 
to  enter  a  church  just  as  the  gospel  for  the  day  was  being  read:  and 
hearing  the  words,  "  If  thou  wilt  be  perfect,"  etc.,  he  took  them  as 


version  was  received  from  God  alone.  For 
on  entering  a  church  he  there  heard  in  the 
Gospel  the  Lord  saying:  "Whoever  hateth 
not  father  and  mother  and  children  and  wife 
and  lands,  yea  and  his  own  soul  also,  cannot 
be  my  disciple  ;  "  and  "if  thou  wilt  be  per- 
fect, go  sell  all  that  thou  hast,  and  give  to  the 
poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven, 
and  come,  follow  me:  "  3  And  with  heartfelt 
contrition  he  took  this  charge  of  the  Lord  as 
if  specially  aimed  at  him,  and  at  once  gave 
up  everything  and  followed  Christ,  without 
any  incitement  thereto  from  the  advice  and 
teaching  of  men.  The  second  kind  of  calling 
is  that  which  we  said  took  place  through  man ; 
viz.,  when  we  are  stirred  up  by  the  example 
of  some  of  the  saints,  and  their  advice,  and 
thus  inflamed  with  the  desire  of  salvation: 
and  by  this  we  never  forget  that  by  the  grace 
of  the  Lord  we  ourselves  were  summoned,  as 
we  were  aroused  by  the  advice  and  good 
example  of  the  above-mentioned  saint,  to  give 
ourselves  up  to  this  aim  and  calling;  and  in 
this  way  also  we  find  in  Holy  Scripture  that 
it  was  through  Moses  that  the  children  of 
Israel  were  delivered  from  the  Egyptian  bond- 
age. But  the  third  kind  of  calling  is  that 
which  comes  from  compulsion,  when  we  have 
been  involved  in  the  riches  and  pleasures  of 
this  life,  and  temptations  suddenly  come  upon 
us  and  either  threaten  us  with  peril  of  death, 
or  smite  us  with  the  loss  and  confiscation  of 
our  goods,  or  strike  us  down  with  the  death  of 
those  dear  to  us,  and  thus  at  length  even 
against  our  will  we  are  driven  to  turn  to  God 
whom  we  scorned  to  follow  in  the  days  of  our 
wealth.  And  of  this  compulsory  call  we 
often  find  instances  in  Scripture,  when  we 
read  that  on  account  of  their  sins  the  children 
of  Israel  were  given  up  by  the  Lord  to  their 
enemies;  and  that  on  account  of  their  tyranny 
and  savage  cruelty  they  turned  again,  and 
cried  to  the  Lord.  And  it  says:  "  The  Lord 
sent  them  a  Saviour,  called  Ehud,  the  son  of 
Gera,  the  son  of  Jemini,  who  used  the  left 
hand  as  well  as  the  right:  "  and  again  we  are 
told,  "  they  cried  unto  the  Lord,  who  raised 
them  up  a  Saviour  and  delivered  them,  to  wit, 
Othniel,  the  son  of  Kenaz,  Caleb's  younger 
brother."  4  And  it  is  of  such  that  the  Psalm 
speaks:  "When  He  slew  them,  then  they 
sought  Him:  and  they  returned  and  came  to 
Him  early  in  the  morning:  and  they  remem- 


addressed  speciallv  to  himself,  and  at  once  proceeded  to  act  upon 
them,  selling  all  that  he  had  except  a  small  portion  which  he  re- 
served for  his  sister's  maintenance.  Shortly  after  he  was  struck  by 
the  words,  "  Take  no  thought  for  the  morrow,"  which  he  heard  in 
church,  and  acting  upon  this,  made  away  with  the  little  property 
which  was  left,  committed  his  sister  to  the  care  of  certain  faithful 
virgins,  and  betook  himself  to  the  ascetic  life. 

'3  S.  Luke  xiv.  26;  S.  Matt.  xix.  21. 

*  Judg.  iii.  15,  9. 


CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   PAPHNUTIUS. 


321 


bered  that  God  was  their  helper,  and  the  most 
High  God  their  redeemer."  And  again: 
"And  they  cried  unto  the  Lord  when  they 
were  troubled,  and  He  delivered  them  out  of 
their  distress."  x 

CHAPTER   V. 

How  the  first  of  these  calls  is  of  no  use  to  a  sluggard,  and 
the  last  is  no  hindrance  to  one  who  is  in  earnest. 

Of  these  three  calls  then,  although  the 
two  former  may  seem  to  rest  on  better  prin- 
ciples, yet  sometimes  we  find  that  even  by 
the  third  grade,  which  seems  the  lowest  and 
the  coldest,  men  have  been  made  perfect  and 
most  earnest  in  spirit,  and  have  become  like 
those  who  made  an  admirable  beginning  in 
approaching  the  Lord's  service,  and  passed 
the  rest  of  their  lives  also  in  most  laud- 
able fervour  of  spirit:  and  again  we  find 
that  from  the  higher  grade  very  many  have 
grown  cold,  and  often  have  come  to  a  miser- 
able end.  And  just  as  it  was  no  hindrance 
to  the  former  class  that  they  seemed  to  be 
converted  not  of  their  own  free  will,  but 
by  force  and  compulsion,  in  as  much  as  the 
loving  kindness  of  the  Lord  secured  for  them 
the  opportunity  for  repentance,  so  too  to  the 
latter  it  was  of  no  avail  that  the  early  days  of 
their  conversion  were  so  bright,  because  they 
were  not  careful  to  bring  the  remainder  of 
their  life  to  a  suitable  end.  For  in  the  case 
of  Abbot  Moses,2  who  lived  in  a  spot  in  the 
wilderness  called  Calamus,3  nothing  was 
wanting  to  his  merits  and  perfect  bliss,  in 
consequence  of  the  fact  that  he  was  driven 
to  flee  to  the  monastery  through  fear  of  death, 
which  was  hanging  over  him  because  of  a 
murder;  for  he  made  such  use  of  his  compul- 
sory conversion  that  with  ready  zeal  he  turned 
it  into  a  voluntary  one  and  climbed  the  top- 
most heights  of  perfection.  As  also  on  the 
other  hand ;  to  very  many,  whose  names  I  ought 
not  to  mention,  it  has  been  of  no  avail  that 
they  entered  on  the  Lord's  service  with  better 
beginning  than  this,  as  afterwards  sloth  and 
hardness  of  heart  crept  over  them,  and  they 
fell  into  a  dangerous  state  of  torpor,  and  the 
bottomless  pit  of  death,  an  instance  of  which 
we  see  clearly  indicated  in  the  call  of  the 
Apostles.  For  of  what  good  was  it  to  Judas 
that  he  had  of  his  own  free  will  embraced 


1  Ps.  lxxvii.  (lxxviiiO'34,  35  ;  cvi.  (cvii.)  19. 

2  Moses.  This  Abbot  is  possibly  a  different  person  from  the 
author  of  the  first  two  Conferences,  who  had  in  his  youth  been  a 
pupil  of  Antony  ;  whereas  the  one  here  mentioned  only  took  the 
monastic  life  out  of  fear  of  death  on  a  charge  of  murder.  He  is 
mentioned  again  in  Conferences  VII.  xxvi.;  XIX.  xi.,  and  some 
account  of  him  is  given  in  Sozomen  H.E.  VI.  xxix. 

3  Calamus,  mentioned  again  in  the  Institutes  X.  xxiv.  (where  see 
note),  and  cf.  Conf.  VII.  xxvi.;  XXIV.  iv. 


the  highest  grade  of  the  Apostolate  in  the 
same  way  in  which  Peter  and  the  rest  of  the 
Apostles  had  been  summoned,  as  he  allowed 
the  splendid  beginning  of  his  call  to  terminate 
in  a  ruinous  end  of  cupidity  and  covetousness, 
and  as  a  cruel  murderer  even  rushed  into  the 
betrayal  of  the  Lord  ?  Or  what  hindrance  was 
it  to  Paul  that  he  was  suddenly  blinded,  and 
seemed  to  be  drawn  against  his  will  into  the 
way  of  salvation,  as  afterwards  he  followed 
the  Lord  with  complete  fervour  of  soul,  and 
having  begun  by  compulsion  completed  it  by 
a  free  and  voluntary  devotion,  and  terminated 
with  a  magnificent  end  a  life  that  was  ren- 
dered glorious  by  such  great  deeds  ?  Every- 
thing therefore  depends  upon  the  end;  in 
which  one  who  was  consecrated  by  a  noble 
conversion  at  the  outset  may  through  careless- 
ness turn  out  a  failure,  and  one  who  was 
compelled  by  necessity  to  adopt  the  monastic 
life  may  through  fear  of  God  and  earnestness 
be  made  perfect. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

An  account  of  the  three  sorts  of  renunciations. 

We  must  now  speak  of  the  renunciations,  of 
which  tradition  and  the  authority  of  Holy 
Scripture  show  us  three,  and  which  every  one  of 
us  ought  with  the  utmost  zeal  to  make  com- 
plete. The  first  is  that  by  which  as  far  as 
the  body  is  concerned  we  make  light  of  all 
the  wealth  and  goods  of  this  world;  the 
second,  that  by  which  we  reject  the  fashions 
and  vices  and  former  affections  of  soul  and 
flesh ;  the  third,  that  by  which  we  detach  our 
soul  from  all  present  and  visible  things,  and 
contemplate  only  things  to  come,  and  set  our 
heart  on  what  is  invisible.  And  we  read  that 
the  Lord  charged  Abraham  to  do  all  these 
three  at  once,  when  He  said  to  him  "Get  thee 
out  from  thy  country,  and  thy  kinsfolk,  and 
thy  father's  house."4  First  He  said  "from 
thy  country,"  i.e.,  from  the  goods  of  this 
world,  and  earthly  riches:  secondly,  "from 
thy  kinsfolk, "  i.e.,  from  this  former  life  and 
habits  and  sins,  which  cling  to  us  from  our 
very  birth  and  are  joined  to  us  as  it  were  by 
ties  of  affinity  and  kinship  :  thirdly,  "  from  thy 
father's  house,"  i.e.,  from  all  the  recollection 
of  this  world,  which  the  sight  of  the  eyes  can 
afford.  For  of  the  two  fathers,  i.e.,  of  the  one 
who  is  to  be  forsaken,  and  of  the  one  who  is  to 
be  sought,  David  thus  speaks  in  the  person  of 
God:  "Hearken,  O  daughter,  and  consider, 
and  incline  thine  ear:  forget  also  thine  own 
people  and  thy  father's  house  :  '  '5  for  the  person 


4  Gen.  xii.  1. 


0  Ps.  xliv.  (xlv.)  11. 


322 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


who  says  "  Hearken,  O  daughter, "  is  certainly 
a  Father;  and  yet  he  bears  witness  that  the 
one,  whose  house  and  people  he  urges  should 
be  forgotten,  is  none  the  less  father  of  his 
daughter.  And  this  happens  when  being  dead 
with  Christ  to  the  rudiments  of  this  world, 
we  no  longer,  as  the  Apostle  says,  regard  "the 
things  which  are  seen,  but  those  which  are 
not  seen,  for  the  things  which  are  not 
seen  are  eternal,"  1  and  going  forth  in  heart 
from  this  temporal  and  visible  home,  turn 
our  eyes  and  heart  towards  that  in  which 
we  are  to  remain  for  ever.  And  this  we  shall 
succeed  in  doing  when,  while  we  walk  in 
the  flesh,  we  are  no  longer  at  war  with  the 
Lord  according  to  the  flesh,  proclaiming  in 
deed  and  actions  the  truth  of  that  saying  of 
the  blessed  Apostle  "Our  conversation  is  in 
heaven."2  To  these  three  sorts  of  renuncia- 
tions the  three  books  of  Solomon  suitably 
correspond.  For  Proverbs  answers  to  the  first 
renunciation,  as  in  it  the  desires  for  carnal 
things  and  earthly  sins  are  repressed;  to  the 
second  Ecclesiastes  corresponds,  as  there 
everything  which  is  done  under  the  sun  is 
declared  to  be  vanity;  to  the  third  die  Song 
of  Songs,  in  which  the  soul  soaring  above  all 
things  visible,  is  actually  joined  to  the  word 
of  God  by  the  contemplation  of  heavenly 
things. 

CHAPTER   VII. 

How  we  can  attain  perfection  in  each  of  these  sorts  of  renun- 
ciations. 

Wherefore  it  will  not  be  of  much  advan- 
tage to  us  that  we  have  made  our  first  renun- 
ciation with  the  utmost  devotion  and  faith,  if 
we  do  not  complete  the  second  with  the  same 
zeal  and  ardour.  And  so  when  we  have  suc- 
ceeded in  this,  we  shall  be  able  to  arrive  at 
the  third  as  well,  in  which  we  go  forth  from 
the  house  of  our  former  parent,  (who,  as  we 
know  well,  was  our  father  from  our  very  birth, 
after  the  old  man,  when  we  were  ' '  by  nature 
children  of  wrath,  as  others  also,"3)  and  fix 
our  whole  mental  gaze  on  things  celestial. 
And  of  this  father  Scripture  says  to  Jerusa- 
lem which  had  despised  God  the  true  Father, 
"Thy father  was  an  Amorite,  and  thy  mother 
a  Hittite;  "  4  and  in  the  gospel  we  read  "Ye 
are  of  your  father  the  devil  and  the  lusts  of 
your  father  ye  love  to  do."5  And  when  we 
have  left  him,  as  we  pass  from  things  visible 
to  things  unseen  we  shall  be  able  to  say 
with  the  Apostle:  "But  we  know  that  if  our 
earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  is  dissolved 
we  have  a  habitation  from  God,  a  house  not 
made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens,"6 


and  this  also,  which  we  quoted  a  little  while 
ago:  "But  our  conversation  is  in  heaven, 
whence  also  we  look  for  the  Saviour,  the 
Lord  Jesus,  who  will  reform  the  body  of 
our  low  estate  made  like  to  the  body  of  His 
glory, "  7  and  this  of  the  blessed  David :  "  For 
I  am  a  sojourner  upon  the  earth,"  and  "  a 
stranger  as  all  my  fathers  were;  "  8  so  that  we 
may  in  accordance  with  the  Lord's  word  be 
made  like  those  of  whom  the  Lord  speaks  to 
His  Father  in  the  gospel  as  follows :  ' '  They  are 
not  of  the  worlck  as  I  am  not  of  the  world,"  9 
and  again  to  the  Apostles  themselves:  "If 
ye  were  of  this  world,  the  world  would  love 
its  own :  but  because  ye  are  not  of  this  world, 
therefore  the  world  hateth  you."10  Of  this 
third  renunciation  then  we  shall  succeed  in 
reaching  the  perfection,  whenever  our  soul  is 
sullied  by  no  stain  of  carnal  coarseness,  but, 
all  such  having  been  carefully  eliminated,  it 
has  been  freed  from  every  earthly  quality  and 
desire,  and  by  constant  meditation  on  things 
Divine,  and  spiritual  contemplation  has  so 
far  passed  on  to  things  unseen,  that  in  its 
earnest  seeking  after  things  above  and  things 
spiritual  it  no  longer  feels  that  it  is  prisoned 
in  this  fragile  flesh,  and  bodily  form,  but  is 
caught  up  into  such  an  ecstasy  as  not  only  to 
hear  no  words  with  the  outward  ear,  or  to 
busy  itself  with  gazing  on  the  forms  of  things 
present,  but  not  even  to  see  things  close  at 
hand,  or  large  objects  straight  before  the  very 
eyes.  And  of  this  no  one  can  understand  the 
truth  and  force,  except  one  who  has  made 
trial  of  what  has  been  said,  under  the  teaching 
of  experience;  viz.,  one,  the  eyes  of  whose 
soul  the  Lord  has  turned  away  from  all 
things  present,  so  that  he  no  longer  considers 
them  as  things  that  will  soon  pass  away,  but 
as  things  that  are  already  done  with,  and  sees 
them  vanish  into  nothing,  like  misty  smoke; 
and  like  Enoch,  "walking  with  God,"  and 
"translated"  from  human  life  and  fashions, 
not  "be  found  "  amid  the  vanities  of  this  life. 
And  that  this  actually  happened  corporeally 
in  the  case  of  Enoch  the  book  of  Genesis  thus 
tells  us.  "  And  Enoch  walked  with  God,  and 
was  not  found,  for  God  translated  him." 
And  the  Apostle  also  says:  "By  faith  Enoch 
was  translated  that  he  should  not  see  death," 
the  death  namely  of  which  the  Lord  says  in 
the  gospel:  "He  that  liveth  and  believeth 
in  me  shall  not  die  eternally."  n  Wherefore, 
if  we  are  anxious  to  attain  true  perfection,  we 
ought  to  look  to  it  that  as  we  have  outwardly 
with  the  body  made  light  of  parents,  home, 
the  riches  and  pleasures  of  the  world,  we  may 


1  2  Cor.  iv.  18. 

2  Phil.  iii.  20. 
s  Eph.  ii.  3. 


4  Ezek.  xvi.  3. 
B  S.  John  viii.  44. 
6  2  Cor.  v.  1. 


7  Phil.  iii.  20,  zi. 

8  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  19;  Ps.  xxxviii.  (xxxix.)  13. 

9  S.  John  xvii.  16. 
10  S.  John  xv.  ig. 

"  Gen.  v.  24  (LXX.) ;  Heb.  xi.  5 ;  S.  John  xi.  : 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    PAPHNUTIUS. 


323 


also  inwardly  with  the  heart  forsake  all  these 
things  and  never  be  drawn  back  by  any  desires 
to  those  things  which  we  have  forsaken,  as 
those  who  were  led  up  by  Moses,  though  they 
did  not  literally  go  back,  are  yet  said  to  have 
returned  in  heart  to  Egypt;  viz.,  by  forsaking 
God  who  had  led  them  forth  with  such  mighty 
signs,  and  by  worshipping  the  idols  of  Egypt 
of  which  they  had  thought  scorn,  as  Scripture 
says:  "And  in  their  hearts  they  turned  back 
into  Egypt,  saying  to  Aaron:  Make  us  gods 
to  go  before  us,"1  for  we  should  fall  into  like 
condemnation  with  those  who,  while  dwelling 
in  the  wilderness,  after  they  had  tasted  manna 
from  heaven,  lusted  after  the  filthy  food  of 
sins,  and  of  mean  baseness,  and  should  seem 
together  with  them  to  murmur  in  the  same 
way :  "  It  was  well  with  us  in  Egypt,  when  we 
sat  over  the  flesh  pots  and  ate  the  onions,  and 
garlic,  and  cucumbers,  and  melons:"  2  A  form 
of  speech,  which,  although  it  referred  prima- 
rily to  that  people,  we  yet  see  fulfilled  today  in 
our  own  case  and  mode  of  life :  for  everyone 
who  after  renouncing  this  world  turns  back  to 
his  old  desires,  and  reverts  to  his  former  likings 
asserts  in  heart  and  act  the  very  same  thing 
that  they  did,  and  says  "It  was  well  with  me 
in  Egypt, ' '  and  I  am  afraid  that  the  number 
of  these  will  be  as  large  as  that  of  the  multi- 
tudes of  backsliders  of  whom  we  read  under 
Moses,  for  though  they  were  reckoned  as  six 
hundred  and  three  thousand  armed  men  who 
came  out  of  Egypt,  of  this  number  not  more 
than  two  entered  the  land  of  promise.  Where- 
fore we  should  be  careful  to  take  exam- 
ples of  goodness  from  those  who  are  few 
and  far  between,  because  according  to  that 
figure  of  which  we  have  spoken  in  the  gospel 
"Many  are  called  but  few"  are  said  to  be 
"chosen."3  A  renunciation  then  in  body 
alone,  and  a  mere  change  of  place  from 
Egypt  will  not  do  us  any  good,  if  we  do  not 
succeed  in  achieving  that  renunciation  in 
heart,  which  is  far  higher  and  more  valuable. 
For  of  that  mere  bodily  renunciation  of  which 
we  have  spoken  the  apostle  declares  as  fol- 
lows: "Though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed 
the  poor,  and  give  my  body  to  be  burned,  but 
have  not  charity,  it  profiteth  me  nothing."4 
And  the  blessed  Apostle  would  never  have 
said  this  had  it  not  been  that  he  foresaw  by 
the  spirit  that  some  who  had  given  all  their 
goods  to  feed  the  poor  would  not  be  able  to 
attain  to  evangelical  perfection  and  the  lofty 
heights  of  charity,  because  while  pride  or  im- 
patience ruled  over  their  hearts  they  were  not 
careful  to  purify  themselves  from  their  former 


1  Acts  vii.  3q,  40. 

2  Numb.  xi.  18;  Exod.  xvi.  3  ;   Numb.  xi.  5. 

3  S.  Matt.  xxii.  14. 

4  1  Cor.  xiii.  3. 


sins,  and  unrestrained  habits,  and  on  that 
account  could  never  attain  to  that  love  of  God 
which  never  faileth,  and  these,  as  they  fall 
short  in  this  second  stage  of  renunciation, 
can  still  less  reach  that  third  stage  which 
is  most  certainly  far  higher.  But  consider 
too  in  your  minds  with  great  care  the  fact 
that  he  did  not  simply  say  "  If  I  bestow  my 
goods.  "  For  it  might  perhaps  be  thought  that 
he  spoke  of  one  who  had  not  fulfilled  the 
command  of  the  gospel,  but  had  kept  back 
something  for  himself,  as  some  half-hearted 
persons  do.  But  he  says  "  Though  I  bestow 
all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,"  i.e.,  even  if 
my  renunciation  of  those  earthly  riches  be 
perfect.  And  to  this  renunciation  he  adds 
something  still  greater:  "And  though  I  give 
my  body  to  be  burned,  but  have  not  charity, 
I  am  nothing:"  As  if  he  had  said  in  other 
words,  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed 
the  poor  in  accordance  with  that  command  in 
the  gospel,  where  we  are  told  "  If  thou  wilt 
be  perfect,  go  sell  all  that  thou  hast,  and  give 
to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in 
heaven,"5  renouncing  them  so  as  to  keep 
back  nothing  at  all  for  myself,  and  though  to 
this  distribution  (of  my  goods)  I  should  by 
the  burning  of  my  flesh  add  martyrdom  so  as 
to  give  up  my  body  for  Christ,  and  yet  be  im^ 
patient,  or  passionate  or  envious  or  proud,  or 
excited  by  wrongs  done  by  others,  or  seek 
what  is  mine,  or  indulge  in  evil  thoughts,  or 
not  be  ready  and  patient  in  bearing  all  that 
can  be  inflicted  on  me,  this  renunciation  and 
the  burning  of  the  outer  man  will  profit  me 
nothing,  while  the  inner  man  is  still  involved 
in  the  former  sins,  because,  wrhile  in  the  fer- 
vour of  the  early  days  of  my  conversion  I 
made  light  of  the  mere  worldly  substance, 
which  is  said  to  be  not  good  or  evil  in  itself 
but  indifferent,  I  took  no  care  to  cast  out  in 
like  manner  the  injurious  powers  of  a  bad 
heart,  or  to  attain  to  that  love  of  the  Lord 
which  is  patient, which  is  "kind,  which  envieth 
not,  is  not  puffed  up,  is  not  soon  angry, 
dealeth  not  perversely,  seeketh  not  her  own, 
thinketh  no  evil,"  which  "  beareth  all  things, 
endureth  all  things,"6  and  which  lastly  never 
suffers  him  who  follows  after  it  to  fall  by  the 
deceitfulness  of  sin. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Of  our  very  own  possessions  in  which  the  beauty  of  the   soul 
is  seen  or  its  foulness. 

We  ought  then  to  take  the  utmost  care  that 
our  inner  man  as  well  may  cast  off  and  make 


5  S.  Matt.  xix.  21. 


6  1  Cor.  xiii.  4-7. 


324 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


away  with  all  those  possessions  of  its  sins, 
which  it  acquired  in  its  former  life :  which  as 
they  continually  cling  to  body  and  soul  are 
our  very  own,  and,  unless  we  reject  them  and 
cut  them  off  while  we  are  still  in  the  flesh, 
will  not  cease  to  accompany  us  after  death. 
For  as  good  qualities,  or  charity  itself  which 
is  their  source,  may  be  gained  in  this  world, 
and  after  the  close  of  this  life  make  the  man 
who  loves  it  lovely  and  glorious,  so  our  faults 
transmit  to  that  eternal  remembrance  a  mind 
darkened  and  stained  with  foul  colours. 
For  the  beauty  or  ugliness  of  the  soul  is  the 
product  of  its  virtues  or  its  vices,  the  colour 
it  takes  from  which  either  makes  it  so  glori- 
ous, that  it  may  well  hear  from  the  prophet 
"And  the  king  shall  have  pleasure  in  thy 
beauty,"1  or  so  black,  and  foul,  and  ugly, 
that  it  must  surely  acknowledge  the  stench 
of  its  shame,  and  say  "  My  wounds  stink  and 
are  corrupt  because  of  my  foolishness,"  2  and 
the  Lord  Himself  says  to  it  "Why  is  not 
the  wound  of  the  daughter  of  my  people 
closed?  "  3  And  therefore  these  are  our  very 
own  possessions,  which  continually  remain 
with  the  soul,  which  no  king  and  no  enemy 
can  either  give  or  take  away  from  us.  These 
are  our  very  own  possessions  which  not  even 
death  itself  can  part  from  the  soul,  but  by 
renouncing  which  we  can  attain  to  perfection, 
and  by  clinging  to  which  we  shall  suffer  the 
punishment  of  eternal  death. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Of  three  sorts  of  possessions. 

Riches  and  possessions  are  taken  in  Holy 
Scripture  in  three  different  ways,  i.e.,  as  good, 
bad,  and  indifferent.  Those  are  bad,  of  which 
it  is  said:  "The  rich  have  wanted  and  have 
suffered  hunger, "  4  and  "Woe  unto  you  that 
are  rich,  for  ye  have  received  your  consola- 
tion:"5 and  to  have  cast  off  these  riches  is 
the  height  of  perfection;  and  a  distinction 
which  belongs  to  those,  poor  who  are  com- 
mended in  the  gospel  by  the  Lord's  saying: 
"  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is 
the  kingdom  of  heaven;  "  6  and  in  the  Psalm: 
"  This  poor  man  cried,  and  the  Lord  heard 
him,"7  and  again:  ''The  poor  and  needy 
shall  praise  thy  name."8  Those  riches  are 
good,  to  acquire  which  is  the  work  of  great 
virtue  and  merit,  and  the  righteous  possessor 
of  which  is  praised  by  David  who  says  "  The 


1  Ps.  xliv.  (xlv.)  12. 

2  Ps.  xxxvii.  (xxxviii.)  6. 

3  Jer.  viii.  22. 

*  Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)  n. 


6  S.  Luke  vi.  24. 

6  S.  Matt.  v.  3. 

7  Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)  7. 

8  Ps.  lxxiii.  (lxxiv.)  21. 


generation  of  the  righteous  shall  be  blessed: 
glory  and  riches  are  in  his  house,  and  his 
righteousness  remaineth  for  ever:"9  and 
again  "the  ransom  of  a  man's  life  are  his 
riches."10  And  of  these  riches  it  is  said  in 
the  Apocalypse  to  him  who  has  them  not  and 
to  his  shame  is  poor  and  naked:  "I  will 
begin,"  says  he,  "to  vomit  thee  out  of  my 
mouth.  Because  thou  sayest  I  am  rich  and 
wealthy  and  have  need  of  nothing:  and 
knowest  not  that  thou  art  wretched  and  mis- 
erable and  poor  and  blind  and  naked,  I  coun- 
sel thee  to  buy  of  me  gold  fire-tried,  that 
thou  mayest  be  made  rich,  and  mayest  be 
clothed  in  white  garments,  and  that  the 
shame  of  thy  nakedness  may  not  appear."  u 
There  are  some  also  which  are  indifferent, 
i.e.,  which  may  be  made  either  good  or  bad: 
for  they  are  made  either  one  or  the  other  in 
accordance  with  the  will  and  character  of 
those  who  use  them:  of  which  the  blessed 
Apostle  says  "  Charge  the  rich  of  this  world 
not  to  be  high-minded  nor  to  trust  in  the  un- 
certainty of  riches,  but  in  God  (who  giveth 
us  abundantly  all  things  to  enjoy),  to  do  good, 
to  give  easily,  to  communicate  to  others,  to 
lay  up  in  store  for  themselves  a  good  founda- 
tion that  they  may  lay  hold  on  the  true  life. "  12 
These  are  what  the  rich  man  in  the  gospel 
kept,  and  never  distributed  to  the  poor,  — 
while  the  beggar  Lazarus  was  lying  at  his 
gate  and  desiring  to  be  fed  with  his  crumbs; 
and  so  he  was  condemned  to  the  unbearable 
flames  and  everlasting  heat  of  hell-fire.13 


CHAPTER   X. 

That  none  can  become  perfect  merely  through  the  first  grade 
of  renunciation. 

In  leaving  then  these  visible  goods  of  the 
world  we  forsake  not  our  own  wealth,  but  that 
which  is  not  ours,  although  we  boast  of  it  as 
either  gained  by  our  own  exertions  or  in- 
herited by  us  from  our  forefathers.  For  as  I 
said  nothing  is  our  own,  save  this  only  which 
we  possess  with  our  heart,  and  which  cleaves 
to  our  soul,  and  therefore  cannot  be  taken 
away  from  us  by  any  one.  But  Christ  speaks 
in  terms  of  censure  of  those  visible  riches,  to 
those  who  clutch  them  as  if  they  were  their 
own,  and  refuse  to  share  them  with  those  in 
want.  "  If  ye  have  not  been  faithful  in  what 
is  another's,  who  will  give  to  you  what  is  your 
own  ? "  14     Plainly  then   it   is   not   only   daily 


9  Ps.  cxi.  (cxii.)  2,  3. 

10  Prov.  xiii.  S. 

11  Rev.  iii.  16-18. 


12  1  Tim.  vi.  17-19. 

13  Cf .  S.  Luke  xiv.  19  sq. 

14  S.  Luke  xvi.  12. 


CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  PAPHNUTIUS. 


325 


experience  which  teaches  us  that  these  riches 
are  not  our  own,  but  this  saying  of  our  Lord 
also,  by  the  very  title  which  it  gives  them. 
But  concerning  visible  1  and  worthless  riches 
Peter  says  to  the  Lord:  "  Lo,  we  have  left  all 
and  followed  thee.  What  shall  we  have 
therefore?  "  2  when  it  is  clear  that  they  had 
left  nothing  but  their  miserable  broken  nets. 
And  unless  this  expression  "all"  is  under- 
stood to  refer  to  that  renunciation  of  sins, 
which  is  really  great  and  important,  we  shall 
not  find  that  the  Apostles  had  left  anything 
of  any  value,  or  that  the  Lord  had  any  reason 
for  bestowing  on  them  the  blessing  of  so  great 
glory,  that  they  were  allowed  to  hear  from 
Him  that  "in  the  regeneration,  when  the  Son 
of  Man  shall  sit  on  the  throne  of  His  glory, 
ye  also  shall  sit  upon  twelve  thrones  judging 
the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel."3  If  then  those, 
who  have  completely  renounced  their  earthly 
and  visible  goods,  cannot  for  sufficient  rea- 
son attain  to  Apostolic  charity,  nor  climb  with 
readiness  and  vigour  to  that  third  stage  of 
renunciation  which  is  still  higher  and  belongs 
to  but  few,  what  should  those  think  of  them- 
selves, who  do  not  even  make  that  first  step 
(which  is  very  easy)  a  thorough  one,  but 
keep  together  with  their  old  want  of  faith, 
their  former  sordid  riches,  and  fancy  that 
they  can  boast  of  the  mere  name  of  monks  ? 
The  first  renunciation  then  of  which  we  spoke 
is  of  what  is  not  our  own,  and  therefore  is 
not  enough  of  itself  to  confer  perfection  on 
the  renunciant,  unless  he  advances  to  the 
second,  which  is  really  and  truly  a  renunci- 
ation of  what  belongs  to  us.  And  when  we 
have  made  sure  of  this  by  the  expulsion  of  all 
our  faults,  we  shall  mount  to  the  heights  of 
the  third  renunciation  also,  whereby  we  rise 
above  not  merely  all  those  things  which  are 
done  in  this  world  or  specially  belong  to  men, 
but  even  that  whole  universe  around  us  which 
is  esteemed  so  glorious,  and  shall  with  heart 
and  soul  look  down  upon  it  as  subject  to 
vanity  and  destined  soon  to  pass  away;  as  we 
look,  as  the  Apostle  says,  "not  on  those 
things  which  are  seen,  but  on  those  which  are 
not  seen :  for  the  things  that  are  seen,  are 
temporal,  and  the  things  which  are  not  seen 
are  eternal;"4  that  so  we  may  be  found 
worthy  to  hear  that  highest  utterance,  which 
was  spoken  to  Abraham:  "and  come  into  a 
land  which  I  will  show  thee,"  5  which  clearly 
shows  that  unless  a  man  has  made  those 
three  former  renunciations  with  all  earnest- 


1  The  MSS.  vary  between  visibilibus  and  invisibilibus. 

2  S.  Matt.  xix.  27. 

3  lb.  ver.  28. 

4  2  Cor.  iv.  iS. 

5  Gen.  xii.  1. 


ness  of  mind,  he  cannot  attain  to  this  fourth, 
which  is  granted  as  a  reward  and  privilege  to 
one  whose  renunciation  is  perfect,  that  he 
may  be  found  worthy  to  enter  the  land  of 
promise  which  no  longer  bears  for  him  the 
thorns  and  thistles  of  sins;  which  after  all 
the  passions  have  been  driven  out  is  acquired 
by  purity  of  heart  even  in  the  body,  and 
which  no  good  deeds  or  exertions  of  man's 
efforts  (can  gain),  but  which  the  Lord  Himself 
promises  to  show,  saying  "And  come  into 
the  land  which  I  will  show  to  thee:  "  which 
clearly  proves  that  the  beginning  of  our  sal- 
vation results  from  the  call  of  the  Lord,  Who 
says  "Get  thee  out  from  thy  country,"  and 
that  the  completion  of  perfection  and  purity 
is  His  gift  in  the  same  way,  as  He  says 
"And  come  into  the  land  which  I  will  show 
thee,"  i.e.,  not  one  you  yourself  can  know  or 
discover  by  your  own  efforts,  but  one  which  I 
will  show  not  only  to  one  who  is  ignorant  of 
it,  but  even  to  one  who  is  not  looking  for  it. 
And  from  this  we  clearly  gather  that  as  we 
hasten  to  the  way  of  salvation  through  being 
stirred  up  by  the  inspiration  of  the  Lord,  so 
too  it  is  under  the  guidance  of  His  direction 
and  illumination  that  we  attain  to  the  perfec- 
tion of  the  highest  bliss. 


CHAPTER   XL 

A  question  on  the  free  will  of  man  and  the  grace  of  God. 

Germanus  :  Where  then  is  there  room  for 
free  will,  and  how  is  it  ascribed  to  our  efforts 
that  we  are  worthy  of  praise,  if  God  both 
begins  and  ends  everything  in  us  which  con- 
cerns our  salvation? 

CHAPTER   XII. 

The  answer  on  the  economy  of  Divine  Grace,  with  free  will  still 
remaining  in  us. 

Paphnutius:  This  would  fairly  influence 
us,  if  in  every  work  and  practice,  the  begin- 
ning and  the  end  were  everything,  and  there 
were  no  middle  in  between.  And  so  as  we 
know  that  God  creates  opportunities  of  salva- 
tion in  various  ways,  it  is  in  our  power  to 
make  use  of  the  opportunities  granted  to  us 
by  heaven  more  or  less  earnestly.  For  just  as 
the  offer  came  from  God  Who  called  him  "  get 
thee  out  of  thy  country,"  so  the  obedience 
was  on  the  part  of  Abraham  who  went  forth ; 
and  as  the  fact  that  the  saying  "  Come  into  the 
land"  was  carried  into  action,  was  the  work 
of  him  who  obeyed,   so   the  addition  of  the 


326 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


words  "  which  I  will  show  thee"  came  from 
the  grace  of  God  Who  commanded  or  prom- 
ised it.  But  it  is  well  for  us  to  be  sure  that 
although  we  practise  every  virtue  with  unceas- 
ing efforts,  yet  with  all  our  exertions  and  zeal 
we  can  never  arrive  at  perfection,  nor  is  mere 
human  diligence  and  toil  of  itself  sufficient  to 
deserve  to  reach  the  splendid  reward  of  bliss, 
unless  we  have  secured  it  by  means  of  the 
co-operation  of  the  Lord,  and  His  directing 
our  heart  to  what  is  right.  And  so  we  ought 
every  moment  to  pray  and  say  with  David 
"  Order  my  steps  in  thy  paths  that  my  foot- 
steps slip  not:  "l  and  "  He  hath  set  my  feet 
upon  a  rock  and  ordered  my  goings:  "  2  that 
He  Who  is  the  unseen  ruler  of  the  human 
heart  may  vouchsafe  to  turn  to  the  desire  of 
virtue  that  will  of  ours,  which  is  more  readily 
inclined  to  vice  either  through  want  of  know- 
ledge of  what  is  good,  or  through  the  delights 
of  passion.  And  we  read  this  in  a  verse  in 
which  the  prophet  sings  very  plainly:  "  Being 
pushed  I  was  overturned  that  I  might  fall," 
where  the  weakness  of  our  free  will  is  shown. 
And  "  the  Lord  sustained  me:"3  again  this 
shows  that  the  Lord's  help  is  always  joined  to 
it,  and  by  this,  that  we  may  not  be  altogether 
destroyed  by  our  free  will,  when  He  sees 
that  we  have  stumbled,  He  sustains  and  sup- 
ports us,  as  it  were  by  stretching  out  His 
hand.  And  again:  " If  I  said  my  foot  was 
moved;"  viz.,  from  the  slippery  character  of 
the  will,  "Thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  helped  me. "4 
Once  more  he  joins  on  the  help  of  God  to  his 
own  weakness,  as  he  confesses  that  it  was  not 
owing  to  his  own  efforts  but  to  the  mercy  of 
God,  that  the  foot  of  his  faith  was  not  moved. 
And  again :  "According  to  the  multitude  of  the 
sorrows  which  I  had  in  my  heart, "  which  sprang 
most  certainly  from  my  free  will,  "  Thy  com- 
forts have  refreshed  my  soul, "  5  i.e.,  by  coming 
through  Thy  inspiration  into  my  heart,  and 
laying  open  the  view  of  future  blessings  which 
Thou  hast  prepared  for  them  Avho  labour  in 
Thy  name,  they  not  only  removed  all  anxiety 
from  my  heart,  but  actually  conferred  upon  it 
the  greatest  delight.  And  again:  "Had  it  not 
been  that  the  Lord  helped  me,  my  soul  had 
almost  dwelt  in  hell."  6  He  certainly  shows 
that  through  the  depravity  of  this  free  will  he 
would  have  dwelt  in  hell,  had  he  not  been  saved 
by  the  assistance  and  protection  of  the  Lord. 
For  "By  the  Lord,"  and  not  by  free-will, 
"  are  a  man's  steps  directed,"  and  "  although 
the  righteous  fall  "  at  least  by  free  will,  "he 
shall  not  be  cast  away."     And  why?  because 


1  Ps.  xvi.  (xvii.)  5. 

2  Ps.  xxxix.  (xl.)  3. 

B  Ps.cxvii.  (cxviii.)  13. 


4  Ps.  xciii.  (xciv.)  18. 
6  lb.  ver.  19. 
6  lb.  ver.  17. 


"the  Lord  upholdeth  him  with  His  hand:  "7 
and  this  is  to  say  with  the  utmost  clearness : 
None  of  the  righteous  are  sufficient  of  them- 
selves to  acquire  righteousness,  unless  every 
moment  when  they  stumble  and  fall  the 
Divine  mercy  supports  them  with  His  hands, 
that  they  may  not  utterly  collapse  and  perish, 
when  they  have  been  cast  down  through  the 
weakness  of  free  will. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

That  the  ordering  of  our  way  comes  from  God. 

And  truly  the  saints  have  never  said  that 
it  was  by  their  own  efforts  that  they  secured 
the  direction  of  the  way  in  which  they  walked 
in  their  course  towards  advance  and  perfection 
of  virtue,  but  rather  they  prayed  for  it  from 
the  Lord,  saying  "  Direct  me  in  Thy  truth," 
and  "direct  my  way  in  thy  sight."8  But 
someone  else  declares  that  he  discovered  this 
very  fact  not  only  by  faith,  but  also  by  experi- 
ence, and  as  it  were  from  the  very  nature  of 
things :  "  I  know,  O  Lord,  that  the  way  of  man 
is  not  his:  neither  is  it  in  a  man  to  walk 
and  to  direct  his  steps."9  And  the  Lord 
Himself  says  to  Israel:  "I  will  direct  him 
like  a  green  fir-tree:  from  Me  is  thy  fruit 
found."10 

CHAPTER    XIV. 

That  knowledge  of  the  law  is  given  by  the  guidance  and  illu- 
mination of  the  Lord. 

The  knowledge  also  of  the  law  itself  they 
daily  endeavour  to  gain  not  by  diligence  in 
reading,  but  by  the  guidance  and  illumination 
of  God  as  they  say  to  Him:  "  Show  me  Thy 
ways,  O  Lord,  and  teach  me  Thy  paths :  ' '  and 
"open  Thou  mine  eyes:  and  I  shall  see  the 
wondrous  things  of  Thy  law :  "  and  "  teach  me 
to  do  Thy  will,  for  Thou  art  my  God;  "  and 
again :    "  Who  teacheth  man  knowledge.  "  n 


CHAPTER   XV. 

That  the  understanding,  by  means  of  which  we  can  recognize 
God's  commands,  and  the  performance  of  a  good  will  are 
both  gifts  from  the  Lord. 

Further  the  blessed  David  asks  of  the 
Lord  that  he  may  gain  that  very  understand- 
ing, by  which  he  can  recognize  God's  com- 


7  Ps.  xxxvi.  (xxxvii.)  23,  24.  9  Jer.  x.  23. 

8  Ps.  xxiv.  (xxv.)  5  ;  vi.  9.  w  Hos.  xiv.  9. 

11  Ps.  xxiv.  (xxv.)  4 ;  cxviii.  (cxix.)  iS;  cxlii.  (cxliii.)    10;    xciii. 
(xciv.)  10. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    PAPHNUTIUS. 


327 


mands  which,  he  well  knew,  were  written  in 
the  book  of  the  law,  and  he  says  "  I  am  Thy 
servant:  O  give  me  understanding  that  I  may 
learn  Thy  commandments."1  Certainly  he 
was  in  possession  of  understanding,  which  had 
been  granted  to  him  by  nature,  and  also  had 
at  his  fingers'  ends  a  knowledge  of  God's  com- 
mands which  were  preserved  in  writing  in  the 
law:  and  still  he  prayed  the  Lord  that  he 
might  learn  this  more  thoroughly  as  he  knew 
that  what  came  to  him  by  nature  would  never 
be  sufficient  for  him,  unless  his  understand- 
ing was  enlightened  by  the  Lord  by  a  daily 
illumination  from  Him,  to  understand  the  law 
spiritually  and  to  recognize  His  commands 
more  clearly,  as  the  ''chosen  vessel"  also 
declares  very  plainly  this  which  we  are  insist- 
ing on.  "  For  it  is  God  which  worketh  in 
you  both  to  will  and  to  do  according  to  good 
will. "  2  What  could  well  be  clearer  than  the 
assertion  that  both  our  good  will  and  the 
completion  of  our  work  are  fully  wrought  in 
us  by  the  Lord  ?  And  again  "  For  it  is  granted 
to  you  for  Christ's  sake,  not  only  to  believe 
in  Him  but  also  to  suffer  for  Him."  3  Here 
also  he  declares  that  the  beginning  of  our 
conversion  and  faith,  and  the  endurance  of 
suffering  is  a  gift  to  us  from  the  Lord.  And 
David  too,  as  he  knows  this,  similarly  prays 
that  the  same  thing  may  be  granted  to  him  by 
God's  mercy.  "  Strengthen,  O  God,  that 
which  Thou  hast  wrought  in  us :  "  4  showing 
that  it  is  not  enough  for  the  beginning  of  our 
salvation  to  be  granted  by  the  gift  and  grace  of 
God,  unless  it  has  been  continued  and  ended 
by  the  same  pity  and  continual  help  from 
Him.  For  not  free  will  but  the  Lord 
"looseth  them  that  are  bound. "  No  strength 
of  ours,  but  the  Lord  "  raiseth  them  that 
are  fallen:"  no  diligence  in  reading,  but 
"  the  Lord  enlightens  the  blind:  "  where  the 
Greeks  have  xvqlo;  gocpol  jucplov;,  i.e.,  "the  Lord 
maketh  wise  the  blind:  "  no  care  on  our  part, 
but  "the  Lord  careth  for  the  stranger  :  "  no 
courage  of  ours,  but  "the  Lord  assists  (or 
supports)  all  those  who  are  down. ' ' 5  But  this 
we  say,  not  to  slight  our  zeal  and  efforts  and 
diligence,  as  if  they  were  applied  unnecessa- 
rily and  foolishly,  but  that  we  may  know  that 
we  cannot  strive  without  the  help  of  God,  nor 
can  our  efforts  be  of  any  use  in  securing  the 
great  reward  of  purity,  unless  it  has  been 
granted  to  us  by  the  assistance  and  mercy  of 
the  Lord:  for  "a  horse  is  prepared  for  the 
day   of    battle:    but   help   cometh   from   the 


1  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  125.  3  Phil.  i.  29. 

8  Phil.  ii.  13.  *  Ps.  lxvii.  (lxviii.)  29. 

5  Ps.  cxlv.  (cxlvi.)  7,  8,  9;  cxliv.  (cxlv.)  16. 


Lord,  " 6  "  for  no  man  can  prevail  by  strength. ' ' 7 
We  ought  then  always  to  sing  with  the  blessed 
David:  "My  strength  and  my  praise  is  "  not 
my  free  will,  but  "the  Lord,  and  He  is 
become  my  salvation."  8  And  the  teacher  of 
the  Gentiles  was  not  ignorant  of  this  when  he 
declared  that  he  was  made  capable  of  the 
ministry  of  the  New  Testament  not  by  his  own 
merits  or  efforts  but  by  the  mercy  of  God. 
"Not,"  says  he,  "that  we  are  capable  of 
thinking  anything  of  ourselves  as  of  our- 
selves, but  our  sufficiency  is  of  God,"  which 
can  be  put  in  less  good  Latin  but  more  for- 
cibly, "our  capability  is  of  God,"  and  then 
there  follows:  "Who  also  made  us  capable 
ministers  of  the  New  Testament."  9 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

That  faith  itself  must  bs  given  us  by  the  Lord. 

But  so  thoroughly  did  the  Apostles  realize 
that  everything  which  concerns  salvation  was 
given  them  by  the  Lord,  that  they  even  asked 
that  faith  itself  should  be  granted  from  the 
Lord,  saying : ' '  Add  to  us  faith  "  10  as  they  did 
not  imagine  that  it  could  be  gained  by  free 
will,  but  believed  that  it  would  be  bestowed 
by  the  free  gift  of  God.  Lastly  the  Author  of 
man's  salvation  teaches  us  how  feeble  and 
weak  and  insufficient  our  faith  would  be  un- 
less it  were  strengthened  by  the  aid  of  the 
Lord,  when  He  says  to  Peter  "  Simon,  Simon, 
behold  Satan  hath  desired  to  have  you  that 
he  may  sift  you  as  wheat.  But  I  have  prayed 
to  my  Father  that  thy  faith  fail  not. "  n  And 
another  finding  that  this  was  happening  in 
his  own  case,  and  seeing  that  his  faith  was 
being  driven  by  the  waves  of  unbelief  on  the 
rocks  which  would  cause  a  fearful  shipwreck, 
asks  of  the  same  Lord  an  aid  to  his  faith, 
saying  "Lord,  help  mine  unbelief."12  So 
thoroughly  then  did  those  Apostles  and  men  in 
the  gospel  realize  that  everything  which  is 
good  is  brought  to  perfection  by  the  aid  of 
the  Lord,  and  not  imagine  that  they  could 
preserve  their  faith  unharmed  by  their  own 
strength  or  free  will  that  they  prayed  that  it 
might  be  helped  or  granted  to  them  by  the 
Lord.  And  if  in  Peter's  case  there  was  need 
of  the  Lord's  help  that  it  might  not  fail,  who 
will  be  so  presumptuous  and  blind  as  to  fancy 
that  he  has  no  need  of  daily  assistance  from 
the  Lord  in  order  to  preserve  it  ?     Especially 


6  Prov.  xxi.  31. 

7  1  Sam.  ii.  9. 

8  Ps.  cxvii.  .(cxviii.)  14. 

9  2  Cor.  iii.  5,  6. 


10  S.  Luke  xvii.  5. 

11  S.  Luke  xxii.  31,  32. 
"  S.  Mark  ix.  23. 


328 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


as  the  Lord  Himself  has  made  this  clear  in 
the  gospel,  saying:  "  As  the  branch  cannot 
bear  fruit  of  itself  except  it  abide  in  the  vine, 
so  no  more  can  ye,  except  ye  abide  in  me. ' ' l 
And  again:  "for  without  me  ye  can  do  no- 
thing. ' '  2  How  foolish  and  wicked  then  it  is  to 
attribute  any  good  action  to  our  own  diligence 
and  not  to  God's  grace  and  assistance,  is 
clearly  shown  by  the  Lord's  saying,  which 
lays  down  that  no  one  can  show  forth  the 
fruits  of  the  Spirit  without  His  inspiration  and 
co-operation.  For  "  every  good  gift  and  every 
perfect  boon  is  from  above,  coming  down 
from  the  Father  of  lights."3  And  Zechariah 
too  says,  "For  whatever  is  good  is  His,  and 
what  is  excellent  is  from  Him."4  And  so 
the  blessed  Apostle  consistently  says :  "  What 
hast  thou  which  thou  didst  not  receive  ?  But 
if  thou  didst  receive  it,  why  boastest  thou  as  if 
thou  hadst  not  received  it?  "  5 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

That  temperateness  and  the  endurance  of  temptations  must  be 
given  to  us  by  the  Lord. 

And  that  all  the  endurance,  with  which  we 
can  bear  the  temptations  brought  upon  us, 
depends  not  so  much  on  our  own  strength  as 
on  the  mercy  and  guidance  of  God,  the  blessed 
Apostle  thus  declares:  "  No  temptation  hath 
come  upon  you  but  such  as  is  common  to  man. 
But  God  is  faithful,  who  will  not  suffer  you 
to  be  tempted  above  that  ye  are  able,  but 
will  with  the  temptation  make  also  a  way  of 
escape,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  bear  it. "  6  And 
that  God  fits  and  strengthens  our  souls  for 
every  good  work,  and  worketh  in  us  all  those 
things  which  are  pleasing  to  Him,  the  same 
Apostle  teaches :  "  May  the  God  of  peace  who 
brought  out  of  darkness  the  great  Shepherd 
of  the  sheep,  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  blood  of 
the  everlasting  Testament,  fit  you  in  all  good- 
ness, working  in  you  what  is  well-pleasing 
in  His  sight. "  7  And  that  the  same  thing  may 
happen  to  the  Thessalonians  he  prays  as  fol- 
lows, saying:  "Now  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
Himself  and  God  our  Father  who  hath  loved 
us  and  hath  given  us  everlasting  consolation 
and  good  hope  in  grace,  exhort  your  hearts, 
and  confirm  you  in  every  good  word  and 
work. ' '  8 


1  S.  John  xv.  4. 

2  lb.  ver.  5. 

8  S.  James  i.  17. 

*  Zech.  ix.  17  (LXX.). 


5  1  Cor.  iv.  7. 

6  1  Cor.  x.  13. 

7  Heb.  xiii.  20,  21. 

8  2  Thess.  ii.  15,  16. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

That  the  continual  fear  of  God  must  be  bestowed  on  us  by  the 
Lord. 

And  lastly  the  prophet  Jeremiah,  speaking 
in  the  person  of  God,  clearly  testifies  that 
even  the  fear  of  God,  by  which  we  can  hold 
fast  to  Him,  is  shed  upon  us  by  the  Lord: 
saying  as  follows:  "And  I  will  give  them  one 
heart,  and  one  way,  that  they  may  fear  Me  all 
days :  and  that  it  may  be  well  with  them  and 
with  their  children  after  them.  And  I  will 
make  an  everlasting  covenant  with  them  and 
will  not  cease  to  do  them  good :  and  I  will 
give  My  fear  in  their  hearts  that  they  may  not 
revolt  from  Me. "  9  Ezekiel  also  says :  "  And 
I  will  give  them  one  heart,  and  will  put  a  new 
spirit  in  their  bowels:  and  I  will  take  away 
the  stony  heart  out  of  their  flesh  and  will 
give  them  a  heart  of  flesh:  that  they  may 
walk  in  My  commandments,  and  keep  My 
judgments  and  do  them :  and  that  they  may 
be  My  people,  and  I  may  be  their  God. "  ao 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

That  the  beginning  of  our  goodwill  and  its  completion  comes 
from  God. 

And  this  plainly  teaches  us  that  the  begin- 
ning of  our  good  will  is  given  to  us  by  the 
inspiration  of  the  Lord,  when  He  draws  us 
towards  the  way  of  salvation  either  by  His 
own  act,  or  by  the  exhortations  of  some  man, 
or  by  compulsion;  and  that  the  consumma- 
tion of  our  good  deeds  is  granted  by  Him  in 
the  same  way:  but  that  it  is  in  our  own 
power  to  follow  up  the  encouragement  and 
assistance  of  God  with  more  or  less  zeal,  and 
that  accordingly  we  are  rightly  visited  either 
with  reward  or  with  punishment,  because  we 
have  been  either  careless  or  careful  to  corre- 
spond to  His  design  and  providential  arrange- 
ment made  for  us  with  such  kindly  regard. 
And  this  is  clearly  and  plainly  described  in 
Deuteronomy.  "When,"  says  he,  "  the  Lord 
thy  God  shall  have  brought  thee  into  the  land 
which  thou  art  going  to  possess,  and  shall  have 
destroyed  many  nations  before  thee,  the  Hit- 
tite,  and  the  Gergeshite,  and  the  Amorite,  the 
Canaanite,  and  the  Perizzite,  the  Hivite,  and 
the  Jebusite,  seven  nations  much  more  num- 
erous than  thou  art  and  stronger  than  thou, 
and  the  Lord  thy  God  shall  have  delivered 
them  to  thee,  thou  shalt  utterly  destroy  them. 


9  Jerem.  xxxii.  39,  40. 


Ezek.  xi.  19,  20. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    PAPHNUTIUS. 


329 


Thou  shalt  make  no  league  with  them. 
Neither  shalt  thou  make  marriage  with 
them."1  So  then  Scripture  declares  that  it 
is  the  free  gift  of  God  that  they  are  brought 
into  the  land  of  promise,  that  many  nations 
are  destroyed  before  them,  that  nations  more 
numerous  and  mightier  than  the  people  of 
Israel  are  given  up  into  their  hands.  But 
whether  Israel  utterly  destroys  them,  or 
whether  it  preserves  them  alive  and  spares 
them,  and  whether  or  no  it  makes  a  league 
with  them,  and  makes  marriages  with  them  or 
not,  it' declares  lies  in  their  own  power.  And 
by  this  testimony  we  can  clearly  see  what  we 
ought  to  ascribe  to  free  will,  and  what  to  the 
design  and  daily  assistance  of  the  Lord,  and 
that  it  belongs  to  divine  grace  to  give  us  op- 
portunities of  salvation  and  prosperous  under- 
takings and  victory:  but  that  it  is  ours  to 
follow  up  the  blessings  which  God  gives  us 
with  earnestness  or  indifference.  And  this 
same  fact  we  see  is  plainly  taught  in  the 
healing  of  the  blind  men.  For  the  fact  that 
Jesus  passed  by  them,  was  a  free  gift  of 
Divine  providence  and  condescension.  But 
the  fact  that  they  cried  out  and  said  "  Have 
mercy  on  us,  Lord,  thou  son  of  David,"  2  was 
an  act  of  their  own  faith  and  belief.  That 
they  received  the  sight  of  their  eyes  was  a  gift 
of  Divine  pity.  But  that  after  the  reception 
of  any  blessing,  the  grace  of  God,  and  the 
use  of  free  will  both  remain,  the  case  of  the 
ten  lepers,  who  were  all  healed  alike,  shows 
us.  For  when  one  of  them  through  goodness 
of  will  returned  thanks,  the  Lord  looking  for 
the  nine,  and  praising  the  one,  showed  that 
He  was  ever  anxious  to  help  even  those  who 
were  unmindful  of  His  kindness.  For  even 
this  is  a  gift  of  His  visitation;  viz.,  that  he 
receives  and  commends  the  grateful  one,  and 
looks  for  and  censures  those  who  are  thank- 
less. 

CHAPTER   XX. 

That  nothing  can  be  done  in  this  world  without  God. 

But  it  is  right  for  us  to  hold  with  unswer- 
ving faith  that  nothing  whatever  is  done  in 
this  world  without  God.  For  we  must  ac- 
knowledge that  everything  is  done  either  by 
His  will  or  by  His  permission,  i.e.,  we  must 
believe  that  whatever  is  good  is  carried  out  by 
the  will  of  God  and  by  His  aid,  and  whatever 
is  the  reverse  is  done  by  His  permission, 
when  the  Divine  Protection  is  withdrawn  from 
us  for  our  sins  and  the  hardness  of  our  hearts, 
and  suffers  the  devil  and  the  shameful  passions 


1  Deut.  vii.  1-3. 


2  S.  Matt.  xx.  31. 


of  the  body  to  lord  it  over  us.  And  the  words 
of  the  Apostle  most  assuredly  teach  us  this, 
when  he  says:  "For this  cause  God  delivered 
them  up  to  shameful  passions:"  and  again: 
"Because  they  did  not  like  to  have  God  in 
their  knowledge,  God  delivered  them  up  to 
a  reprobate  sense,  to  do  those  things  which 
are  not  convenient. "  3  And  the  Lord  Himself 
says  by  the  prophet:  "But  My  people  did  not 
hear  My  voice  and  Israel  did  not  obey  me : 
Wherefore  I  gave  them  up  unto  their  own 
hearts'  lusts.  They  shall  walk  after  their 
own  inventions."  4 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

An  objection  on  the  power  of  free  will. 

Germanus:  This  passage  very  clearly 
shows  the  freedom  of  the  will,  where  it  is 
said  "  If  My  people  would  have  hearkened 
unto  Me,"  and  elsewhere  "But  My  people 
would  not  hear  My  voice."5  For  when  He 
says  "If  they  would  have  heard"  He  shows 
that  the  decision  to  yield  or  not  to  yield  lay 
in  their  own  power.  How  then  is  it  true  that 
our  salvation  does  not  depend  upon  ourselves, 
if  God  Himself  has  given  us  the  power  either 
to  hearken  or  not  to  hearken  ? 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

The  answer;  viz.,  that  our  free  will  always  has  need  of  the 
help  of  the  Lord. 

Paphnutius  :  You  have  shrewdly  enough 
noticed  how  it  is  said  "If  they  would  have 
hearkened  to  Me :  "  but  have  not  sufficiently 
considered  either  who  it  is  who  speaks  to  one 
who  does  or  does  not  hearken ;  or  what  fol- 
lows :  "  I  should  soon  have  put  down  their 
enemies,  and  laid  My  hand  on  those  that 
trouble  them."6  Let  no  one  then  try  by  a 
false  interpretation  to  twist  that  which  we 
brought  forward  to  prove  that  nothing  can  be 
done  without  the  Lord,  nor  take  it  in  support 
of  free  will,  in  such  a  way  as  to  try  to  take 
away  from  man  the  grace  of  God  and  His 
daily  oversight,  through  this  test:  "But  My 
people  did  not  hear  My  voice,"  and  again: 
"If  My  people  would  have  hearkened  unto 
Me,  and  if  Israel  would  have  walked  in  My 
ways,  etc.  :  "  but  let  him  consider  that  just 
as  the  power  of  free  will  is  evidenced  by  the 
disobedience  of  the  people,  so  the  daily  over- 


3  Rom.  i.  26,  28. 

*  Ps.  Ixxx.  (lxxxi.)  12,  13. 


B  Ps.  Ixxx.  (lxxxi.)  12,  13. 
0  lb.  ver.  15. 


33° 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


sight  of  God  who  declares  and  admonishes 
him  is  also  shown.  For  where  He  says  "  If 
My  people  would  have  hearkened  unto  Me " 
He  clearly  implies  that  He  had  spoken  to 
them  before.  And  this  the  Lord  was  wont  to 
do  not  only  by  means  of  the  written  law,  but 
also  by  daily  exhortations,  as  this  which  is 
given  by  Isaiah:  "All  day  long  have  I 
stretched  forth  My  hands  to  a  disobedient 
and  gain-saying  people."  1  Both  points  then 
can  be  supported  from  this  passage,  where  it 
says:  "If  My  people  would  have  hearkened, 
and  if  Israel  had  walked  in  My  ways,  I  should 
soon  have  put  down  their  enemies,  and  laid 
My  hand  on  those  that  trouble  them."  For 
just  as  free  will  is  shown  by  the  disobedience 
of  the  people,  so  the  government  of  God  and 
His  assistance  is  made  clear  by  the  beginning 
and  end  of  the  verse,  where  He  implies  that 
He  had  spoken  to  them  before,  and  that  after- 
wards He  would  put  down  their  enemies,  if 
they  would  have  hearkened  unto  Him.      For 


we  have  no  wish  to  do  away  with  man's  free 
will  by  what  we  have  said,  but  only  to  estab- 
lish the  fact  that  the  assistance  and  grace  of 
God  are  necessary  to  it  every  day  and  hour. 
When  he  had    instructed   us   with    this    dis- 
course Abbot  Paphnutius  dismissed  us  from 
his  cell  before  midnight  in  a  state  of  contri- 
tion   rather  than  of    liveliness;    insisting  on 
this  as  the  chief  lesson  in  his  discourse;  viz., 
that  when  we  fancied  that  by  making  perfect 
the    first   renunciation    (which   we   were   en- 
deavouring to  do  with  all  our  powers),  we  could 
climb  the   heights    of    perfection,  we  should 
;  make  the  discovery  that  we  had  not  yet  even 
!  begun  to   dream  of   the  heights  to  which   a 
|  monk  can  rise,  since  after  we  had  learnt  some 
I  few  things  about  the  second  renunciation,  we 
I  should  find  out  that  we  had  not  before  this 
;  even  heard  a  word  of  the  third  stage,  in  which 
I  all    perfection   is   comprised,    and   which    in 
many  ways  far  exceeds  these  lower  ones. 


IV. 
CONFERENCE   OF  ABBOT   DANIEL 

ON  THE  LUST  OF  THE  FLESH  AND    OF  THE   SPIRIT. 


CHAPTER    I. 


Of  the  life  of  Abbot  Daniel. 


Among  the  other  heroes  of  Christian  phi- 
losophy we  also  knew  Abbot  Daniel,  who  was 
not  only  the  equal  of  those  who  dwelt  in  the 
desert  of  Scete  in  every  sort  of  virtue,  but  was 
specially  marked  by  the  grace  of  humility. 
This  man  on  account  of  his  purity  and  gentle- 
ness, though  in  age  the  junior  of  most,  was 
preferred  to  the  office  of  the  diaconate  by  the 
blessed  Paphnutius,  presbyter  in  the  same 
desert:  for  the  blessed  Paphnutius  was  so  de- 
lighted with  his  excellent  qualities,  that,  as 
he  knew  that  he  was  his  equal  in  virtue  and 
grace  of  life,  he  was  anxious  also  to  make 
him  his  equal  in  the  order  of  the  priesthood. 
And  since  he  could  not  bear  that  he  should 
remain  any  longer  in  an  inferior  office,  and 
was  also  anxious  to  provide  a  worthy  succes- 
sor to  himself  in  his  lifetime,  he  promoted  him 
to  the  dignity  of  the  priesthood.2     He  how- 


ever relinquished  nothing  of  his  former  cus- 
tomary humility,  and  when  the  other  was 
present,  never  took  upon  himself  anything 
from  his  advance  to  a  higher  order,  but  when 
Abbot  Paphnutius  was  offering  spiritual  sac- 
rifices, ever  continued  to  act  as  a  deacon  in 
the  office  of  his  former  ministry.  However, 
the  blessed  Paphnutius  though  so  great  a 
saint  as  to  possess  the  grace  of  foreknowledge, 
in  many  matters,  yet  in  this  case  was  dis- 
appointed of  his  hope  of  the  succession  and 
the  choice  he  had  made,  for  he  himself  passed 
to  God  no  long  time  after  him  whom  he  had 
prepared  as  his 'successor. 


1  IS.    lxV.    2. 

2  Nothing  further  appears  to  be  known  of  Daniel  than  what  is 


here  told  us  by  Cassian.  There  has  been  some  discussion  as  to  th; 
action  of  Paphnutius  in  having  him  raised  to  the  priesi hood,  as  Cas- 
sian here  narrates.  Was  Paphnutius  reaily  a  bishop,  or  is  it  a  case 
of  presbyterian  orders,  or  do  Cassian's  expressions  merely  mean 
that  Paphnutius  procured  his  ordination  first  to  the  Piaconate  and 
then  to  the  Priesthood  ?  Probably  the  latter,  for  (i)  all  the  evidence 
goes  to  show  that  presbyters  had  not  the  power  of  ordination  ;  and 
(2  Uhere  are  many  instances,  in  which  it  is  said  even  of  the  laity  that 
they  "  ordained  "  men  to  the  ministry  when  all  that  can  possibly  be 
meant  is  that  they  "  procured  their  ordination:  "  further  (3)  it  will 
be  noticed  that  it  is  not  even  said  that  Paphnutius  ordained  Daniel, 
but  merely  that  he  "  promoted  "  him  to  the  priesthood  :  an  expression 
which  might  equally  well  be  used  of  nomination  as  of  actual  ordina- 
tion. See  the  subject  discussed  in  Bingham's  Antiquities,  Book 
II.  c.  iii.  §  7,  and  C.  Gore's  "  Church  and  the  Ministry,"  p.  374. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    DANIEL. 


oo 


CHAPTER   II. 

An  investigation  of  the  origin  of  a  sudden  change  of  feeling 
from  inexpressible  joy  to  extreme  dejection  of  mind. 

So  then  we  asked  this  blessed  Daniel  why 
it  was  that  as  we  sat  in  the  cells  we  were  some- 
times filled  with  the  utmost  gladness  of  heart, 
together  with  inexpressible  delight  and  abun- 
dance of  the  holiest  feelings,  so  that  I  will  not 
say  speech,  but  even  feeling  could  not  follow  it, 
and  pure  prayers  were  readily  breathed,  and  the 
mind  being  filled  with  spiritual  fruits,  pray- 
ing to  God  even  in  sleep  could  feel  that  its 
petitions  rose  lightly  and  powerfully  to  God : 
and  again,  why  it  was  that  for  no  reason  we 
were  suddenly  filled  with  the  utmost  grief,  and 
weighed  down  with  unreasonable  depression, 
so  that  we  not  only  felt  as  if  we  ourselves  were 
overcome  with  such  feelings,  but  also  our  cell 
grew  dreadful,  reading  palled  upon  us,  aye 
and  our  very  prayers  were  offered  up  un- 
steadily and  vaguely,  and  almost  as  if  we 
were  intoxicated:  so  that  while  we  were 
groaning  and  endeavouring  to  restore  our- 
selves to  our  former  disposition,  our  mind 
was  unable  to  do  this,  and  the  more  earnestly 
it  sought  to  fix  again  its  gaze  upon  God,  so 
was  it  the  more  vehemently  carried  away  to 
wandering  thoughts  by  shifting  aberrations 
and  so  utterly  deprived  of  all  spiritual  fruits, 
as  not  to  be  capable  of  being  roused  from  this 
deadly  slumber  even  by  the  desire  of  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  or  by  the  fear  of  hell 
held  out  to  it.     To  this  he  replied. 


CHAPTER    III. 

His  answer  to  the  question  raised. 

A  threefold  account  of  this  mental  dry- 
ness of  which  you  speak  has  been  given  by 
the  Elders.  For  it  comes  either  from  care- 
lessness on  our  part,  or  from  the  assaults  of 
the  devil,  or  from  the  permission  and  allow- 
ance of  the  Lord.  From  carelessness  on  our 
part,  when  through  our  own  faults,  coldness 
has  come  upon  us,  and  we  have  behaved  care- 
lessly and  hastily,  and  owing  to  slothful  idle- 
ness have  fed  on  bad  thoughts,  and  so  make 
the  ground  of  our  heart  bring  forth  thorns  and 
thistles;  which  spring  up  in  it,  and  conse- 
quently make  us  sterile,  and  powerless  as 
regards  all  spiritual  fruit  and  meditation. 
From  the  assaults  of  the  devil  when,  some- 
times, while  we  are  actually  intent  on  good 
desires,  our  enemy  with  crafty  subtilty  makes 
his  way  into  our  heart,  and  without  our  know- 
ledge and  against  our  will  we  are  drawn  away 
from  the  best  intentions. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


How  there  is  a  twofold  reason  for  the  permission  and  allov 
ance  of  God. 


But  for  God's  permission  and  allowance 
there  is  a  twofold  reason.  First,  that  being 
for  a  short  time  forsaken  by  the  Lord,  and 
observing  with  all  humility  the  weakness  of 
our  own  heart,  we  may  not  be  puffed  up  on 
account  of  the  previous  purity  of  heart, 
granted  to  us  by  His  visitation;  and  that  by 
proving  that  when  we  are  forsaken  by  Him 
we  cannot  possibly  recover  our  former  state 
of  purity  and  delight  by  any  groanings  and 
efforts  of  our  own,  we  may  also  learn  that  our 
previous  gladness  of  heart  resulted  not  from 
our  own  earnestness  but  from  His  gift,  and 
that  for  the  present  time  it  must  be  sought 
once  more  from  His  grace  and  enlightenment. 
But  a  second  reason  for  this  allowance,  is  to 
prove  our  perseverance,  and  steadfastness  of 
mind,  and  real  desires,  and  to  show  in  us, 
with  what  purpose  of  heart,  or  earnestness 
in  prayer  we  seek  for  the  return  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  when  He  leaves  us,  and  also  in  order  that 
when  we  discover  with  what  efforts  we  must 
seek'for  that  spiritual  gladness  —  when  once  it 
is  lost  —  and  the  joy  of  purity,  we  may  learn 
to  preserve  it  more  carefully,  when  once  it 
is  secured,  and  to  hold  it  with  firmer  grasp. 
For  men  are  generally  more  careless  about 
keeping  whatever  they  think  can  be  easily 
replaced. 

CHAPTER  V. 

How  our  efforts  and  exertions  are  of  no  use  without  God'a 
help. 

And  by  this  it  is  clearly  shown  that  God's 
grace  and  mercy  always  work  in  us  what  is 
good,  and  that  when  it  forsakes  us,  the  efforts 
of  the  worker  are  useless,  and  that  however 
earnestly  a  man  may  strive,  he  cannot  regain 
his  former  condition  without  His  help,  and 
that  this  saying  is  constantly  fulfilled  in  our 
case:  that  it  is  "not  of  him  that  willeth  or 
runneth  but  of  God  which  hath  mercy.  "*  And 
this  grace  on  the  other  hand  sometimes  does 
not  refuse  to  visit  with  that  holy  inspiration 
of  which  you  spoke,  and  with  an  abundance  of 
spiritual  thoughts,  even  the  careless  and  in- 
different; but  inspires  the  unworthy,  arouses 
the  slumberers,  and  enlightens  those  who  are 
blinded  by  ignorance,  and  mercifully  reproves 
us  and  chastens  us,  shedding  itself  abroad  in 
our  hearts,  that  thus  we  may  be  stirred  by  the 
compunction  which  He  excites,  and  impelled 


1  Rom.  ix.  16. 


33^ 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


to  rise  from  the  sleep  of  sloth.  Lastly  we  are 
often  filled  by  His  sudden  visitation  with 
sweet  odours,  beyond  the  power  of  human 
composition  —  so  that  the  soul  is  ravished 
with  these  delights,  and  caught  up,  as  it  were, 
into  an  ecstasy  of  spirit,  and  becomes  oblivi- 
ous of  the  fact  that  it  is  still  in  the  flesh. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

How  it  is  sometimes  to  our  advantage  to  be  left  by  God. 

But  the  blessed  David  recognizes  that 
sometimes  this  departure  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  and  (as  it  were)  desertion  by  God  may 
be  to  some  extent  to  our  advantage,  so  that 
he  was  unwilling  to  pray,  not  that  he  might 
not  be  absolutely  forsaken  by  God  in  any- 
thing (for  he  was  aware  that  this  would  have 
been  disadvantageous  both  to  himself  and  to 
human  nature  in  its  course  towards  perfec- 
tion) but  he  rather  entreated  that  it  might  be 
in  measure  and  degree,  saying  "  Forsake  me 
not  utterly"  '  as  if  to  say  in  other  words:  I 
know  that  thou  dost  forsake  thy  saints  to  their 
advantage,  in  order  to  prove  them,  for  in  no 
other  way  could  they  be  tempted  by  the  devil, 
unless  they  were  for  a  little  forsaken  by  Thee. 
And  therefore  I  ask  not  that  Thou  shouldest 
never  forsake  me,  for  it  would  not  be  well  for 
me  not  to  feel  my  weakness  and  say  "It  is 
good  for  me  that  Thou  hast  brought  me  low  "  2 
nor  to  have  no  opportunity  of  fighting.  And 
this  I  certainly  should  not  have,  if  the  Divine 
protection  shielded  me  incessantly  and  un- 
brokenly.  For  the  devil  will  not  dare  to 
attack  me  while  supported  by  Thy  defence,  as 
he  brings  both  against  me  and  Thee  this 
objection  and  complaint,  which  he  ever  slan- 
derously brings  against  Thy  champions, 
"Does  Job  serve  God  for  nought?  Hast  not 
Thou  made  a  fence  for  him  and  his  house  and 
all  his  substance  round  about  ?  "  3  But  I  rather 
entreat  that  Thou  forsake  me  not  utterly  — 
what  the  Greeks  call  ioag  oyodga,  i.e.,  too 
much.  For,  first,  as  it  is  advantageous  to  me 
for  Thee  to  forsake  me  a  little,  that  the  stead- 
fastness of  my  love  may  be  tried,  so  it  is 
dangerous  if  Thou  suffer  me  to  be  forsaken 
excessively  in  proportion  to  my  faults  and 
what  I  deserve,  since  no  power  of  man,  if  in 
temptation  it  is  forsaken  for  too  long  a  time  by 
Thine  aid,  can  endure  by  its  own  steadfast- 
ness, and  not  forthwith  give  in  to  the  power  of 
the  enemy's  side, unless  Thou  Thyself, as  Thou 
knowest  the  strength  of  man,  and  moderatest 
his  struggles,  "  Suffer  us  not  to  be  tempted 


above  that  we  are  able,  but  makest  with  the 
temptation  a  way  of  escape  that  we  may  be 
able  to  bear  it."4  And  something  of  this  sort 
we  read  in  the  book  of  Judges  was  mystically 
designed  in  the  matter  of  the  extermination 
of  the  spiritual  nations  which  were  opposed 
to  Israel:  "These  are  the  nations,  which 
the  Lord  left  that  by  them  He  might  instruct 
Israel,  that  they  might  learn  to  fight  with  their 
enemies,"  and  again  shortly  after:  "And  the 
Lord  left  them  that  He  might  try  Israel  by 
them,  whether  they  would  hear  the  command- 
ments of  the  Lord,  which  He  had  commanded 
their  fathers  by  the  hand  of  Moses,  or  not."6 
And  this  conflict  God  reserved  for  Israel,' 
not  from  envy  of  their  peace,  or  from  a  wish 
to  hurt  them,  but  because  He  knew  that  it 
would  be  good  for  them  that  while  they  were 
always  oppressed  by  the  attacks  of  those 
nations  they  might  not  cease  to  feel  them- 
selves in  need  of  the  aid  of  the  Lord,  and  for 
this  reason  might  ever  continue  to  meditate 
on  Him  and  invoke  His  aid,  and  not  grow 
careless  through  lazy  ease,  and  lose  the  habit 
of  resisting,  and  the  practice  of  virtue.  For 
again  and  again,  men  whom  adversity  could 
not  overcome,  have  been  cast  down  by  free- 
dom from  care  and  by  prosperity. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Of  the  value  of  the  conflict  which  the  Apostle  makes  to  consist 
in  the  strife  between  the  flesh  and  the  spirit. 

This  conflict  too  we  read  in  the  Apostle 
has  for  our  good  been  placed  in  our  members : 
"For  the  flesh  lusteth  against  the  spirit:  and 
the  spirit  against  the  flesh.  But  these  two 
are  opposed  to  each  other  so  that  ye  should 
not  do  what  ye  would. ' ' 6  You  have  here  too  a 
contest  as  it  were  implanted  in  our  bodies,  by 
the  action  and  arrangement  of  the  Lord. 
For  when  a  thing  exists  in  everybody  univer- 
sally and  without  the  slightest  exception, 
what  else  can  you  think  about  it  except  that 
it  belongs  to  the  substance  of  human  nature, 
since  the  fall  of  the  first  man,  as  it  were 
naturally:  and  when  a  thing  is  found  to  be 
congenital  with  everybody,  and  to  grow  with 
their  growth,  how  can  we  help  believing  that  it 
was  implanted  by  the  will  of  the  Lord,  not  to 
injure  them  but  to  help  them  ?  But  the  reason 
of  this  conflict;  viz.,  of  flesh  and  spirit,  he 
tells  us  is  this:  "  that  ye  should  not  do  what 
ye  would. "  And  so,  if  we  fulfil  what  God  ar- 
ranged that  we  should  not  fulfil,  i.e.,  that  we 
should  not  do  what  we  liked,  how  can  we  help 


1  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  3. 


lb.  ver.  71. 


Job  i.  9,  10. 


4  1  Cor.  x.  13" 


6  Judg.  iii.  1-4. 


6  Gal.  v.  17. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    DANIEL. 


>33 


believing  that  it  is  bad  for  us?  And  this 
conflict  implanted  in  us  by  the  arrangement 
of  the  Creator  is  in  a  way  useful  to  us,  and 
calls  and  urges  us  on  to  a  higher  state:  and 
if  it  ceased,  most  surely  there  would  ensue 
on  the  other  hand  a  peace  that  is  fraught 
with  danger. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

A  question,  how  it  is  that  in  the  Apostle's  chapter,  after  he 
has  spoken  of  the  lusts  of  the  flesh  and  spirit  opposing  one 
another,  he  adds  a  third  thing ;  viz.,  man's  will. 

Germanus:  Although  some  glimmer  of  the 
sense  now  seems  clear  to  us,  yet  as  we  cannot 
thoroughly  grasp  the  Apostle's  meaning,  we 
want  you  to  explain  this  more  clearly  to  us. 
For  the  existence  of  three  things  seems  to  be 
indicated  here :  first,  the  struggle  of  the  flesh 
against  the  spirit,  secondly  the  desire  of  the 
spirit  against  the  flesh,  and  thirdly  our  own 
free  will,  which  seems  to  be  placed  between 
the  two,  and  of  which  it  is  said:  "  Ye  should 
not  do  what  ye  will."  And  on  this  subject, 
though  as  I  said  we  can  gather  some  hints, 
from  what  you  have  explained  of  the  meaning, 
yet  —  since  this  conference  gives  the  oppor- 
tunity —  we  are  anxious  to  have  it  more  fully 
explained  to  us. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

The  answer  on  the  understanding  of  one  who  asks  rightly. 

Daniel:  It  belongs  to  the  understanding 
to  discern  the  distinctions  and  the  drift  of 
questions ;  and  it  is  a  main  part  of  knowledge 
to  understand  how  ignorant  you  are.  Where- 
fore it  is  said  that  "if  a  fool  asks  questions, 
it  will  be  accounted  wisdom,"1  because,  al- 
though one  who  asks  questions  is  ignorant  of 
the  answer  to  the  question  raised,  yet  as  he 
wisely  asks,  and  learns  what  he  does  not 
know,  this  very  fact  will  be  counted  as  wisdom 
in  him,  because  he  wisely  discovers  what  he 
was  ignorant  of.  According  then  to  this 
division  of  yours,  it  seems  that  in  this  passage 
the  Apostle  mentions  three  things,  the  lust  of 
the  flesh  against  the  spirit,  and  of  the  spirit 
against  the  flesh,  the  mutual  struggle  of  which 
against  each  other  appears  to  have  this  as  its 
cause  and  reason;  viz.,  "  that,"  says  he,  "we 
should  not  do  what  we  would."  There 
remains  then  a  fourth  case,  which  you  have 
overlooked;  viz.,  that  we  should  do  what  we 
would  not.     Now  then,  we  must  first  discover 


1  Prov.  xvii.  28.  (LXX.). 


the  meaning  of  those  two  desires,  i.e.,  of  the 
flesh  and  spirit,  and  so  next  learn  to  discuss 
our  free  will,  which  is  placed  between  the 
two,  and  then  lastly  in  the  same  way  we  can 
see  what  cannot  belong  to  our  free  will. 


CHAPTER  X. 

That  the  word  flesh  is  not  used  with  one  single  meaning  only. 

We  find  that  the  word  flesh  is  used  in  holy 
Scripture  with  many  different  meanings :  for 
sometimes  it  stands  for  the  whole  man,  i.e., 
for  that  which  consists  of  body  and  soul,  as 
here  "And  the  Word  was  made  flesh,"  2  and 
"All  flesh  shall  see  the  salvation  of  our  God. ' ' 3 
Sometimes  it  stands  for  sinful  and  carnal 
men,  as  here  "My  spirit  shall  not  remain  in 
those  men,  because  they  are  flesh."  4  Some- 
times it  is  used  for  sins  themselves,  as  here : 
"But  ye  are  not  in  the  flesh  but  in  the  spirit,  "  h 
and  again  "Flesh  and  blood  shall  not  inherit 
the  kingdom  of  God:"  lastly  there  follows, 
"  Neither  shall  corruption  inherit  incorrup- 
tion. "  6  Sometimes  it  stands  for  consanguin- 
ity and  relationship,  as  here:  "Behold  we  are 
thy  bone  and  thy  flesh,"7  and  the  Apostle 
says :  "If  by  any  means  I  may  provoke  to  emu- 
lation them  who  are  my  flesh,  and  save  some 
of  them."8  We  must  therefore  inquire  in 
which  of  these  four  meanings  we  ought  to 
take  the  word  flesh  in  this  place,  for  it  is 
clear  that  it  cannot  possibly  stand  as  in  the 
passage  where  it  is  said  "  The  Word  was  made 
flesh,"  and  "All  flesh  shall  see  the  salvation 
of  God. ' '  Neither  can  it  have  the  same  mean- 
ing as  where  it  is  said  "  My  Spirit  shall  not 
remain  in  those  men  because  they  are  flesh," 
because  the  word  flesh  is  not  used  here  as  it  is 
there  where  it  stands  simply  for  a  sinful  man  — 
when  he  says  "  The  flesh  lusteth  against  the 
spirit  and  the  spirit  against  the  flesh. ' '  9  Nor 
is  he  speaking  of  things  material,  but  of  real- 
ities which  in  one  and  the  same  man  struggle 
either  at  the  same  time  or  separately,  with 
the  shifting  and  changing  of  time. 


CHAPTER    XI. 


What  the  Apostle  means  by  flesh  in  this  passage,  and  what 
the  lust  of  the  flesh  is. 


Wherefore    in  this  passage  we  ought   to 
take  "  flesh  "  as  meaning  not  man,  i.  e. ,  his  ma- 


s' S.  John  i.  14. 
3  S.  Luke  iii.  6. 
*  (Jen.  vi.  3. 
6  Rom.  viii.  9. 


6  1  Cor.  xv.  50. 

7  2  Sam.  v.  1. 

8  Rom.  xi.  14. 

9  Gal.  v.  17. 


334 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


terial  substance,  but  the  carnal  will  and  evil 
desires,  just  as  "  spirit  "  does  not  mean  any- 
thing material,  but  the  good  and  spiritual 
desires  of  the  soul :  a  meaning  which  the 
blessed  Apostle  has  clearly  given  just  before, 
where  he  begins:  "But  I  say,  walk  in  the 
spirit,  and  ye  shall  not  fulfil  the  desires 
of  the  flesh ;  for  the  flesh  lusteth  against  the 
spirit  and  the  spirit  against  the  flesh :  but 
these  are  contrary  the  one  to  the  other,  that 
ye  may  not  do  what  ye  would.  "  And  since 
these  two;  viz.,  the  desires  of  the  flesh  and  of 
the  spirit  co-exist  in  one  and  the  same  man, 
there  arises  an  internal  warfare  daily  carried 
on  within  us,  while  the  lust  of  the  flesh  which 
rushes  blindly  towards  sin,  revels  in  those 
delights  which  are  connected  with  present 
ease.  And  on  the  other  hand  the  desire  of 
the  spirit  is  opposed  to  these,  and  wishes  to 
be  entirely  absorbed  in  spiritual  efforts,  so 
that  it  actually  wants  to  be  rid  of  even  the 
necessary  uses  of  the  flesh,  longing  to  be  so 
constantly  taken  up  with  these  things  as  to 
desire  to  have  no  share  of  anxiety  about  the 
weakness  of  the  flesh.  The  flesh  delights  in 
wantonness  and  lust:  the  spirit  does  not  even 
tolerate  natural  desires.  The  one  wants  to 
have  plenty  of  sleep,  and  to  be  satiated  with 
food:  the  other  is  nourished  with  vigils  and 
fasting,  so  as  to  be  unwilling  even  to  admit 
of  sleep  and  food  for  the  needful  purposes 
of  life.  The  one  longs  to  be  enriched  with 
plenty  of  everything,  the  other  is  satisfied 
even  without  the  possession  of  a  daily  supply 
of  scanty  food.  The  one  seeks  to  look  sleek 
by  means  of  baths,  and  to  be  surrounded  every 
day  by  crowds  of  flatterers,  the  other  delights 
in  dirt  and  filth,  and  the  solitude  of  the  inac- 
cessible desert,  and  dreads  the  approach  of 
all  mortal  men.  The  one  lives  on  the  esteem 
and  applause  of  men,  the  other  glories  in 
injuries  offered  to  it,  and  in  persecutions. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

What  is  our  free  will,  which  stands  in  between  the  lust  of  the 
flesh  and  the  spirit. 

Between  these  two  desires  then  the  free 
will  of  the  soul  stands  in  an  intermediate 
position  somewhat  worthy  of  blame,  and 
neither  delights  in  the  excesses  of  sin,  nor 
acquiesces  in  the  sorrows  of  virtue.  Seeking 
to  restrain  itself  from  carnal  passions  in  such 
a  way  as  not  nevertheless  to  be  willing  to 
undergo  the  requisite  suffering,  and  wanting 
to  secure  bodily  chastity  without  chastising 
the  flesh,  and  to  acquire  purity  of  heart  with- 
out the  exertion  of  vigils,  and  to  abound  in 


spiritual  virtues  together  with  carnal  ease, 
and  to  attain  the  grace  of  patience  without  the 
irritation  of  contradiction,  and  to  practise  the 
humility  of  Christ  without  the  loss  of  worldly 
honour,  to  aim  at  the  simplicity  of  religion  in 
conjunction  with  worldly  ambition,  to  serve 
Christ  not  without  the  praise  and  favour  of 
men,  to  profess  the  strictness  which  truth 
demands  without  giving  the  slightest  offence 
to  anybody :  in  a  word,  it  is  anxious  to  pursue 
future  blessings  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  lose 
present  ones.  And  this  free  will  would  never 
lead  us  to  attain  true  perfection,  but  would 
plunge  us  into  a  most  miserable  condition  of 
lukewarmness,  and  make  us  like  those  who 
are  rebuked  by  the  Lord's  remonstrance  in 
the  Apocalypse :  "I  know  thy  works,  that  thou 
art  neither  hot  nor  cold.  I  would  that  thou 
wert  hot  or  cold.  But  now  thou  art  luke- 
warm, and  I  will  forthwith  spue  thee  out  of 
my  mouth ;"  x  were  it  not  that  these  conten- 
tions which  rise  up  on  both  sides  disturb 
and  destroy  this  condition  of  lukewarmness. 
For  when  we  give  in  to  this  free  will  of  ours 
and  want  to  let  ourselves  go  in  the  direction 
of  this  slackness,  at  once  the  desires  of  the 
flesh  start  up,  and  injure  us  with  their  sinful 
passions,  and  do  not  suffer  us  to  continue  in 
that  state  of  purity  in  which  we  delight,  and 
allure  us  to  that  cold  and  thorny  path  of 
pleasure  which  we  have  to  dread.  Again, 
if  inflamed  with  fervour  of  spirit,  we  want  to 
root  out  the  works  of  the  flesh,  and  without 
any  regard  to  human  weakness  try  to  raise 
ourselves  altogether  to  excessive  efforts  aftei 
virtue,  the  frailty  of  the  flesh  comes  in,  and 
recalls  us  and  restrains  us  from  that  over 
excess  of  spirit  which  is  bad  for  us :  and  so 
the  result  is  that  as  these  two  desires  are 
contradicting  each  other  in  a  struggle  of  this 
kind,  the  soul's  free  will,  which  does  not  like 
either  to  give  itself  up  entirely  to  carnal 
desires,  nor  to  throw  itself  into  the  exertions 
which  virtue  calls  for,  is  tempered  as  it  were 
by  a  fair  balance,  while  this  struggle  between 
the  two  hinders  that  more  dangerous  free  will 
of  the  soul,  and  makes  a  sort  of  equitable 
balance  in  the  scales  of  our  body,  which 
marks  out  the  limits  of  flesh  and  spirit  most 
accurately,  and  does  not  allow  the  mind  in- 
flamed with  fervour  of  spirit  to  sway  to  the 
right  hand,  nor  the  flesh  to  incline  through 
the  pricks  of  sin,  to  the  left.  And  while  this 
struggle  goes  on  day  after  day  in  us  to  our 
profit,  we  are  driven  most  beneficially  to 
come  to  that  fourth  stage  which  we  do  not 
like,  so  as  to  gain  purity  of  heart  not  by  ease 
and  carelessness,   but  by  constant  efforts  and 


1  Rev.  iii.  15,  16. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    DANIEL. 


oo 


contrition  of  spirit;  to  retain  our  chastity  of 
the  flesh  by  prolonged  fastings,  hunger,  thirst, 
and  watchfulness;  to  acquire  purpose  of  heart 
by  reading,  vigils,  constant  prayer  and  the 
wretchedness  of  solitude;  to  preserve  patience 
by  the  endurance  of  tribulation ;  to  serve  our 
Maker  in  the  midst  of  blasphemies  and 
abounding  insults  ;  to  follow  after  truth  if 
need  be  amid  the  hatred  of  the  world  and  its 
enmity;  and  while,  with  such  a  struggle  going 
on  in  our  body,  we  are  secured  from  slothful 
carelessness,  and  incited  to  that  effort  which 
is  against  the  grain,  and  to  the  desire  for  vir- 
tue, our  proper  balance  is  admirably  secured, 
and  on  one  side  the  languid  choice  of  our 
free  will  is  tempered  by  fervour  of  spirit, 
and  on  the  other  the  frigid  coldness  of  the 
flesh  is  moderated  by  a  gentle  warmth,  and 
while  the  desire  of  the  spirit  does  not  allow 
the  mind  to  be  dragged  into  unbridled 
licence,  neither  does  the  weakness  of  the 
flesh  allow  the  spirit  to  be  drawn  on  to  un- 
reasonable aspirations  after  holiness,  lest  in 
the  one  case  incentives  to  all  kinds  of  sins 
might  arise,  or  in  the  other  the  earliest  of  all 
sins  might  lift  its  head  and  wound  us  with  a 
yet  more  fatal  dart  of  pride  :  but  a  due  equi- 
librium will  result  from  this  struggle,  and 
open  to  us  a  safe  and  secure  path  of  virtue 
between  the  two,  and  teach  the  soldier  of 
Christ  ever  to  walk  on  the  King's  highway. 
And  thus  the  result  will  be  that  when,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  lukewarmness  arising  from 
this  sluggish  will  of  which  we  have  spoken, 
the  mind  has  been  more  easily  entangled  in 
carnal  desires,  it  is  checked  by  the  desire  of 
the  spirit,  which  by  no  means  acquiesces  in 
earthly  sins ;  and  again,  if  through  over  much 
feeling  our  spirit  has  been  carried  in  unbounded 
fervour  and  towards  ill-considered  and  im- 
possible heights,  it  is  recalled  by  the  weak- 
ness of  the  flesh  to  sounder  considerations  and 
rising  above  the  lukewarm  condition  of  our 
free  will  with  due  proportion  and  even  course 
proceeds  along  the  way  of  perfection.  Some- 
thing of  this  sort  we  hear  that  the  Lord 
ordained  in  the  case  of  the  building  of  that 
tower  in  the  book  of  Genesis,  where  a  confu- 
sion of  tongues  suddenly  sprang  up,  and  put 
a  stop  to  the  blasphemous  and  wicked  attempts 
of  men.  For  there  would  have  remained 
there  in  opposition  to  God,  aye  and  against 
the  interest  of  those  who  had  begun  to  assail 
His  Divine  Majesty,  an  agreement  boding  no 
good,  unless  by  God's  providence  the  dif- 
ference of  languages,  raising  disturbances 
among  them,  had  forced  them  because  of  the 
variations  of  their  words  to  go  on  to  a  better 
condition,  and  a  happy  and  valuable  discord 
had  recalled  to  salvation  those  whom  a  ruin- 


ous union  had  driven  to  destruction,  as  when 
divisions  arose  they  began  to  experience 
human  weakness  of  which  when  puffed  up  by 
their  wicked  plots  they  had  hitherto  known 
nothing. 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

Oi  the  advantage  of  the  delay  which  results  from  the  struggle 
between  flesh  and  spirit. 

But  from  the  differences  which  this  conflict 
causes,  there  arises  a  delay  that  is  so  far 
advantageous  to  us,  and  from  this  struggle  an 
adjournment  that  is  for  our  good,  so  that 
while  through  the  resistance  of  the  material 
body  we  are  hindered  from  carrying  out 
those  things  which  we  have  wickedly  con- 
ceived with  our  minds,  we  are  sometimes 
recalled  to  a  better  mind  either  by  penitence 
springing  up,  or  by  some  better  thoughts  which 
usually  come  to  us  when  delay  in  carrying 
out  things,  and  time  for  reflection  intervene. 
Lastly,  those  who,  as  we  know,  are  not  pre- 
vented from  carrying  out  the  desires  of  their 
free  will  by  any  hindrances  of  the  flesh,  I  mean 
devils  and  spiritual  wickednesses,  these,  since 
they  have  fallen  from  a  higher  and  angelical 
state,  we  see  are  in  a  worse  plight  than  men, 
in  as  much  as  (owing  to  the  fact  that  oppor- 
tunity is  always  present  to  gratify  their  de- 
sires) they  are  not  delayed  from  irrevocably 
performing  whatever'  evil  they  have  imagined 
because  as  their  mind  is  quick  to  conceive  it, 
so  their  substance  is  ready  and  free  to  carry 
it  out;  and  while  a  short  and  easy  method  is 
given  them  of  doing  what  they  wish,  no  salu- 
tary second  thoughts  come  in  to  amend  their 
wicked  intention. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Of  the  incurable  depravity  of  spiritual  wickednesses. 

For  a  spiritual  substance  and  one  that  is 
not  tied  to  any  material  flesh  has  no  excuse 
for  an  evil  thought  which  arises  within,  and 
also  shuts  out  forgiveness  for  its  sin,  because 
it  is  not  harassed  as  we  are  by  incentives  of 
the  flesh  without,  to  sin,  but  is  simply  in- 
flamed by  the  fault  of  a  perverse  will.  And 
therefore  its  sin  is  without  forgiveness  and  its 
weakness  without  remedy.  For  as  it  falls 
through  the  allurements  of  no  earthly  matter, 
so  it  can  find  no  pardon  or  place  for  repent- 
ance. And  from  this  we  can  clearly  gather 
that  this  struggle  which  arises  in  us  of  the 
flesh  and  spirit  against  each  other  is  not 
merely  harmless,  but  actually  extremely  use- 
ful to  us. 


336 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Of  the  value  of  the  lust  of  the  flesh  against  the  spirit  in  our 
case. 

To  begin  with,  because  it  is  an  immediate 
reproof  of  our  sloth  and  carelessness,  and 
like  some  energetic  schoolmaster  who  never 
allows  us  to  deviate  from  the  line  of  strict 
discipline,  and  if  our  carelessness  has  ever 
so  little  exceeded  the  limits  of  due  gravity 
which  become  it,  it  immediately  excites  us 
by  the  stimulus  of  desire,  and  chides  us  and 
recalls  us  to  due  moderation.  Secondly, 
because,  in  the  matter  of  chastity  and  perfect 
purity,  when  by  God's  grace  we  see  that  we 
have  been  for  some  time  kept  from  carnal  pol- 
lution, in  order  that  we  may  not  imagine  that 
we  can  no  longer  be  disturbed  by  the  motions 
of  the  flesh  and  thereby  be  elated  and  puffed 
up  in  our  secret  hearts  as  if  we  no  longer  bore 
about  the  corruption  of  the  flesh,  it  humbles 
and  checks  us,  and  reminds  us  by  its  pricks 
that  we  are  but  men.1  For  as  we  ordinarily 
fall  without  much  thought  into  other  kinds  of 
sins  and  those  worse  and  more  harmful,  and 
are  not  so  easily  ashamed  of  committing  them, 
so  in  this  particular  one  the  conscience  is 
especially  humbled,  and  by  means  of  this 
illusion  it  is  stung  by  the  recollection  of  pas- 
sions that  have  been  neglected,  as  it  sees 
clearly  that  it  is  rendered  unclean  by  natural 
emotions,  of  which  it  knew  nothing  while  it 
was  still  more  unclean  through  spiritual  sins; 
and  so  coming  back  at  once  to  the  cure  of  its 
former  sluggishness,  it  is  warned  both  that  it 
ought  not  to  trust  in  the  attainments  of  purity 
in  the  past,  which  it  sees  to  be  lost  by  ever 
so  small  a  falling  away  from  the  Lord,  and 
also  that  it  cannot  attain  the  gift  of  this  purity 
except  by  God's  grace  alone,  since  actual  ex- 
perience somehow  or  other  teaches  us  that  if 
we  are  anxious  to  reach  abiding  perfection  of 
heart  we  must  constantly  endeavour  to  obtain 
the  virtue  of  humility. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Of  the  excitements  of  the  flesh,  without  the  humiliation  of 
which  we  should  fall  more  grievously. 

To  the  fact  then  that  the  pride  which 
results  from  this  purity  would  be  more  dan- 
gerous than  all  sins  and  wickednesses,  and  that 
we  should  on  that  account  gain  no  reward  for 
any  height  of  perfect  chastity,  we  may  call  as 
.witnesses  those  powers  of  which,  we  spoke 
before,  which  since  it  is  believed  that   they 


Suo  nos  rursum  qicamvis  quieto  ac  simfilici  visiians  fluxu. 


experience  no  such  fleshly  lusts,  were  cast 
down  from  their  high  and  heavenly  estate  in 
everlasting  destruction  simply  from  pride  of 
heart.  And  so  we  should  be  altogether  hope- 
lessly lukewarm,  since  we  should  have  no 
warning  of  carelessness  on  our  part  implanted 
either  in  our  body  or  in  our  mind,  nor  should 
we  ever  strive  to  reach  the  glow  of  perfection, 
or  even  keep  to  strict  frugality  and  abstinence, 
were  it  not  that  this  excitement  of  the  flesh 
springs  up  and  humbles  us  and  baffles  us  and 
makes  us  keen  and  anxious  about  purifying 
ourselves  from  spiritual  sins. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Of  the  lukewarmness  of  eunuchs. 

Lastly,  on  this  account  in  those  who  are 
Eunuchs,  we  often  detect  the  existence  of  this 
lukewarmness  of  mind,  because,  as  they  are 
so  to  speak  free  from  the  needs  of  the  flesh, 
they  fancy  that  they  have  no  need  either  of 
the  trouble  of  bodily  abstinence,  or  of  contri- 
tion of  heart;  and  being  rendered  slack  by 
this  freedom  from  anxiety,  they  make  no 
efforts  either  truly  to  seek  or  to  acquire  per- 
fection of  heart  or  even  purity  from  spiritual 
faults.  And  this  condition  which  is  the 
result  of  their  state  in  the  flesh,  becomes 
natural,  which  is  altogether  a  worse  state. 
For  he  who  passes  from  the  state  of  coldness 
to  that  of  lukewarmness  is  branded  by  the 
Lord's  words  as  still  more  hateful. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


The  question  what  is  the  difference  between  the  carnal  and 
natural  man. 


Germanus:  You  have,  it  seems  to  us, 
very  clearly  shown  the  value  of  the  struggle 
which  is  raised  between  the  flesh  and  spirit, 
so  that  we  can  believe  that  it  can  in  a  sort 
of  way  be  grasped  by  us ;  and  therefore  we 
want  to  have  this  also  explained  to  us  in  the 
same  way;  viz.,  what  is  the  difference  between 
the  carnal  and  the  natural  man,  or  how  the 
natural  man  can  be  worse  than  the  carnal. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

The  answer  concerning  the  threefold  condition  of  souis. 

Daniel  :  There  are,  according  to  the  state- 
ments of  Scripture,  three  kinds  of  souls ;  the 
first  is  the  carnal,  the  second  the  natural,  and 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    DANIEL. 


->    1   -7 

03/ 


the  third  the  spiritual :  which  we  find  are  thus 
described  by  the  Apostle.  For  of  the  carnal 
he  says  :  "  I  gave  you  milk  to  drink,  not  meat : 
for  you  were  not  able  as  yet.  But  neither 
indeed  are  you  now  able ;  for  you  are  yet  car- 
nal."  And  again:  "For  whereas  there  is 
among  you  envying  and  contention,  are  you 
not  carnal  ?"  x  Concerning  the  natural  he  also 
speaks  as  follows:  "But  the  natural  man  per- 
ceiveth  not  the  things  that  are  of  the  spirit  of 
God;  for  it  is  foolishness  to  him. "  But  con- 
cerning the  spiritual :  "But  the  spiritual  man 
judgeth  all  things:  and  he  himself  is  judged 
by  no  man."2  And  again  "You  who  are  spi- 
ritual instruct  such  ones  in  the  spirit  of  meek- 
ness."  3  And  so,  though  at  our  renunciation 
we  ceased  to  be  carnal,  i.e.,  we  began  to 
separate  ourselves  from  intercourse  with  those 
in  the  world,  and  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
open  pollution  of  the  flesh,  we  must  still  be 
careful  to  strive  with  all  our  might  to  attain 
forthwith  a  spiritual  condition,  lest  haply  we 
natter  ourselves  because  we  seem  as  far  as 
the  outer  man  is  concerned  to  have  renounced 
this  world  and  got  rid  of  the  defilement  of 
carnal  fornication,  as  if  by  this  we  had 
reached  the  heights  of  perfection ;  and  thence 
become  careless  and  indifferent  about  purify- 
ing ourselves  from  other  affections,  and  so 
being  kept  back  between  these  two,  become  un- 
able to  reach  the  stage  of  spiritual  advance- 
ment; either  because  we  think  that  it  .  is 
amply  sufficient  for  our  perfection  if  we  seem 
to  separate  ourselves,  as  regards  the  outward 
man,  from  intercourse  with  this  world  and 
from  its  pleasure,  or  because  we  are  free  from 
corruption  and  carnal  intercourse,  and  thus  we 
find  ourselves  in  that  lukewarm  condition 
which  is  considered  the  worst  of  all,  and  dis- 
cover that  we  are  spued  out  of  the  mouth  of 
the  Lord,  in  accordance  with  these  words  of 
His:  "  I  would  that  thou  wert  hot  or  cold. 
But  now  thou  art  lukewarm  and  I  will  begin 
to  spue  thee  out  o*f  My  mouth. ' '  4  And  not 
without  good  reason  does  the  Lord  declare 
that  those  whom  he  has  previously  received  in 
the  bowels  of  His  love,  and  who  have  become 
shamefully  lukewarm,  shall  be  spued  out  and 
rejected  from  His  bosom:  in  as  much  as, 
though  they  might  have  yielded  Him  some 
health-giving  subsistence,  they  preferred  to 
be  torn  away  from  His  heart:  thus  becoming 
far  worse  than  those  who  had  never  found 
their  way  into  the  Lord's  mouth  as  food,  just 
as  we  turn  away  with  loathing  from  that 
which  nausea  compels  us  to  bring  up.  For 
whatever  is  cold  is  warmed  when  received  into 


1  i  Cor.  iii.  2,  3. 

2  1  Cor.  ii.  14,  15. 


3  Gal.  vi. 

4  Rev.  iii. 


■5,  16. 


the  mouth  and  is  received  with  satisfaction 
and  good  results.  But  whatever  has  been 
once  rejected  owing  to  its  miserable  luke- 
warmness,  we  cannot  —  I  will  not  say  touch 
with  the  lips  —  but  even  look  on  from  a  dis- 
tance without  the  greatest  disgust.  Rightly 
then  is  he  said  to  be  worse,  because  the  carnal 
man,  i.e.,  the  worldly  man  and  the  heathen, 
is  more  readily  brought  to  saving  conversion 
and  to  the  heights  of  perfection  than  cne  who 
has  been  professed  as  a  monk,  but  has  not,  as 
his  rule  directs,  laid  hold  on  the  way  of  per- 
fection, and  so  has  once  for  all  drawn  back 
from  that  fire  of  spiritual  fervour.  For  the 
former  is  at  last  broken  down  by  the  sins  of 
the  flesh,  and  acknowledges  his  uncleanness, 
and  in  his  compunction  hastens  from  carnal 
pollution  to  the  fountain  of  true  cleansing,  and 
the  heights  of  perfection,  and  in  his  horror  at 
that  cold  state  of  infidelity  in  which  he  finds 
himself,  he  is  kindled  with  the  fire  of  the 
spirit  and  flies  the  more  readily  to  perfection. 
For  one  who  has,  as  we  said,  once  started  with 
a  lukewarm  beginning,  and  has  begun  to  abuse 
the  name  of  monk,  and  who  has  not  laid  hold 
on  the  way  of  this  profession  with  the  humil- 
ity and  fervour  that  he  ought,  when  once  he 
is  infected  by  this  miserable  plague,  and  is  as 
it  were  unstrung  by  it,  can  no  longer  of  him- 
self discern  what  is  perfect  nor  learn  from 
the  admonitions  of  another.  For  he  says  in 
his  heart  that  which  the  Lord  tells  us: 
"Because  I  am  rich  and  wealthy  and  want 
nothing;  "  and  so  this  which  follows  is  at 
once  applied  to  him:  "  But  thou  art  wretched, 
and  miserable,  and  poor,  and  blind,  and 
naked:  "5  and  he  is  so  far  in  a  worse  condi- 
tion than  a  worldly  man,  because  he  has  no 
idea  that  he  is  wretched  or  blind  or  naked  or 
requires  cleansing,  or  needs  to  be  directed  and 
taught  by  any  one;  and  on  this  account  he 
receives  no  sound  advice  as  he  does  not 
realise  that  he  is  weighted  with  the  name  of 
monk,  and  is  lowered  in  the  judgment  of  all, 
whereas,  though  everybody  believes  him  to  be 
a  saint  and  regards  him  as  a  servant  of  God, 
he  must  hereafter  be  subjected  to  a  stricter 
judgment  and  punishment.  Lastly,  why 
should  we  any  longer  linger  over  those  things 
which  we  have  sufficiently  discovered  and 
proved  by  experience?  We  have  often  seen 
those  who  were  cold  and  carnal,  i.e.,  worldly 
men  and  heathen,  attain  spiritual  warmth : 
but  lukewarm  and  "natural"  men  never.  And 
these  too  we  read  in  the  prophet  are  hated  of 
the  Lord,  so  that  a  charge  is  given  to  spiritual 
and  learned  men  to  desist  from  warning  and 
teaching  them,  and  not  to  sow  the  seed  of  the 

8  Rev.  iii.  17. 


338 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


life-giving  word  in  ground  that  is  barren  and 
unfruitful  and  choked  by  noxious  thorns;  but 
that  they  should  scorn  this,  and  rather  cul- 
tivate fallow  ground,  i.e.,  that  they  should 
transfer  all  their  care  and  teaching,  and  their 
zeal  in  the  life-giving  word  to  pagans  and 
worldly  men:  as  we  thus  read:  "  Thus  saith 
the  Lord  to  the  men  of  Judah  and  inhabitants 
of  Jerusalem:  break  up  your  fallow  ground, 
and  sow  not  among  thorns. ' '  l 


CHAPTER   XX. 

Of  those  who  renounce  the  world  but  ill. 

In  the  last  place  I  am  ashamed  to  say  how 
we  find  that  a  large  number  have  made  their 
renunciation  in  such  a  way  that  we  find  that 
they  have  altered  nothing  of  their  former 
sins  and  habits,  but  only  their  state  of  life 
and  worldly  garb.  For  they  are  eager  in 
amassing  wealth  which  they  never  had  before, 
or  else  do  not  give  up  that  which  they  had, 
or  which  is  still  sadder,  they  actually  strive 
to  augment  it  under  this  excuse;  viz.,  that 
they  assert  that  it  is  right  that  they  should 
always  support  with  it  their  relations  or  the 
brethren,  or  they  hoard  it  under  pretence  of 
starting  congregations  which  they  imagine 
that  they  can  preside  over  as  Abbots.  But 
if  only  they  would  sincerely  seek  after  the 
way  of  perfection,  they  would  rather  en- 
deavour with  all  their  might  and  main  to 
attain  to  this:  viz.,  that  they  might  strip  them- 
selves not  only  of  their  wealth  but  of  all  their 
former  likings  and  occupations,  and  place 
themselves  unreservedly  and  entirely  under 
the  guidance  of  the  Elders  so  as  to  have  no 
anxiety  not  merely  about  others,  but  even 
about  themselves.  But  on  the  contrary  we 
find  that  while  they  are  eager  to  be  set  over 
their  brethren,  they  are  never  subject  to  their 
Elders  themselves,  and,  with  pride  for  their 
starting  point,  while  they  are  quite  ready  to 
teach  others  they  take  no  trouble  to  learn  them- 
selves or  to  practise  what  they  are  to  teach :  and 
so  it  is  sure  to  end  in  their  becoming,  as  the 
Saviour  said,  "  blind  leaders  of  the  blind  "  so 
that  "  both  fall  into  the  ditch. ' ' 2  And  this  pride 
though  there  is  only  one  kind  of  it,  yet  takes 
a  twofold  form.  One  form  continually  puts 
on  the  appearance  of  seriousness  and  gravity, 
the  other  breaks  out  with  unbridled  freedom 
into  silly  giggling  and  laughing.  The  former 
delights  in  not  talking:  the  latter  thinks  it 
hard  to  be  kept  to  the  restraint  of  silence, 
and  has  no  scruples  about  talking  freely  on 


1  Jerem.  iv.  3. 


-  Ci.  S.  Matt.  xv.  14. 


matters  that  are  unsuitable  and  foolish,  while 
it  is  ashamed  to  be  thought  inferior  to  or  less 
well  informed  than  others.  The  one  on  ac- 
count of  pride  seeks  clerical  office,  the  other 
looks  down  upon  it,  since  it  fancies  that  it 
is  unsuitable  or  beneath  its  former  dignity 
and  life  and  the  deserts  of  its  birth.  And 
which  of  these  two  should  be  accounted  the 
worse  each  man  must  consider  and  decide 
for  himself.  At  any  rate  the  kind  of  disobe- 
dience is  one  and  the  same,  if  a  man  breaks 
the  Elder's  commands  whether  it  be  owing 
to  zeal  in  work,  or  to  love  of  ease :  and  it  is 
as  hurtful  to  upset  the  rules  of  the  monastery 
for  the  sake  of  sleep,  as  it  is  for  the  sake  of 
vigilance,  and  it  is  just  the  same  to  transgress 
the  Abbot's  orders  in  order  to  read,  as  it  is 
to  slight  them  in  order  to  sleep :  nor  is  there 
any  difference  in  the  incentive  to  pride  if  you 
neglect  a  brother,  whether  it  is  because  of 
your  fast  or  because  of  your  breakfast :  except 
that  those  faults  which  seem  to  show  them- 
selves under  the  guise  of  virtues  and  in  the 
form  of  spirituality  are  worse  and  less  likely 
to  be  cured  than  those  which  arise  openly 
and  from  carnal  pleasures.  For  these  latter, 
like  sicknesses  which  are  perfectly  plain  and 
visible,  are  grappled  with  and  cured,  while 
the  former,  since  they  are  covered  under  the 
cloak  of  virtue,  remain  uncured,  and  cause 
their  victims  to  fall  into  a  more  dangerous 
and  deadly  state  of  ill  health. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Of  those  who  having  made  light  of  great  things  busy  them- 
selves about  trifles. 

For  how  can  we  show  how  absurd  it  is  that 
we  see  that  some  men  after  their  first  enthu- 
siasm of  renunciation  in  which  they  forsook 
their  estates  and  vast  wealth  and  the  service 
of  the  world,  and  betook  themselves  to  the 
monasteries,  are  still  earnestly  devoted  to 
those  things  which  cannot  altogether  be  cut 
off,  and  which  we  cannot  do  without  in  this 
state  of  life,  even  though  they  are  small  and 
trifling  things;  so  that  in  their  case  the 
anxiety  about  these  trifles  is  greater  than 
their  love  of  all  their  property.  And  it  cer- 
tainly will  not  profit  them  much  that  they 
have  disregarded  greater  riches  and  property, 
if  they  have  only  transferred  their  affections 
(on  account  of  which  they  were  to  make  light 
of  them)  to  small  and  trifling  things.  For 
the  sin  of  covetousness  and  avarice  of  which 
they  cannot  be  guilty  in  the  matter  of  really 
valuable  things,  they  retain  with  regard  to 
commoner  matters,  and  so  show  that  they  have 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    SERAPION. 


339 


not  got  rid  of  their  former  greed  but  only 
changed  its  object.  For  if  they  are  too  care- 
ful about  their  mats,  baskets,  blankets,  books, 
and  other  trifles  such  as  these,  the  same  pas- 
sion holds  them  captive  as  before.  And  they 
actually  guard  and  defend  their  rights  over 
them  so  jealously  as  to  get  angry  with  their 
brethren  about  them,  and,  what'  is  worse,  they 
are  not  ashamed  to  quarrel  over  them.  And 
being  still  troubled  by  the  bad  effects  of  their 
former  covetousness,  they  are  not  content  to 
possess  those  things  which  the  needs  and 
requirements  of  the  body  compel  a  monk  to 
have,  according  to  the  common  number  and 
measure,  but  here  too  they  show  the  greedi- 
ness of  their  heart,  as  they  try  to  have  those 
things  which  they  are  obliged  to  use,  better 
got  up  than  the  others;  or,  exceeding  all  due 
bounds,  keep  as  their  special  and  peculiar 
property  and  guard  from  the  touch  of  others 


that  which  ought  to  belong  to  all  the  brethren 
alike.  As  if  the  difference  of  metals,  and 
not  the  passion  of  covetousness  was  what  mat- 
tered; and  as  if  it  was  wrong  to  be  angry 
about  big  things,  while  one  might  innocently 
be  about  trifling  matters:  and  as  if  we  had 
not  given  up  all  our  precious  things  just  in 
order  that  we  might  learn  more  readily  to 
think  nothing  about  trifles!  For  what  differ- 
ence does  it  make  whether  one  gives  way  to 
covetousness  in  the  matter  of  large  and 
splendid  things,  or  in  the  matter  of  the  merest 
trifles,  except  that  we  ought  to  think  a  man 
so  far  worse  if  he  has  made  light  of  great 
things  and  then  is  a  slave  to  little  things? 
And  so  that  sort  of  renunciation  of  the  world 
does  not  attain  perfection  of  heart,  because 
though  it  ranks  as  poverty  it  still  keeps  the 
mind  of  wealth. 


V. 

CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  SERAPION 

ON  THE   EIGHT  PRINCIPAL   FAULTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Our  arrival  at  Abbot  Serapion's  cell,  and  inquiry  on  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  faults  and  the  way  to  overcome  them. 

In  that  assembly  of  Ancients  and  Elders 
was  a  man  named  Serapion,1  especially  en- 
dowed with  the  grace  of  discretion,  whose 
Conference  I  think  it  is  worth  while  to  set 
down  in  writing.  For  when  we  entreated 
him  to  discourse  of  the  way  to  overcome  our 
faults,  so  that  their  origin  and  cause  might 
be  made  clearer  to  us,  he  thus  began. 


CHAPTER   II. 

Abbot  Serapion's  enumeration  of  eight  principal  faults. 

There  are  eight  principal  faults  which 
attack  mankind*;  viz.,  first  gastrimargia, 
which  means  gluttony,    secondly  fornication, 


1  Serapion  when  young  was  a  pupil  of  Theonas,  and  an  anecdote 
of  his  youthful  indulgence  in  good  things  in  secret  has  been  already 
told  in  Conference  II.  c.  xi.  Another  story  of  him  is  given  in 
XVI 1 1,  xi.  One  of  this  name  is  mentioned  by  Palladius  in  the 
Lausiac  History,  c.  lxxvi.,  and  by  Rufinus  in  the  History  of  the 
Monks,  c.  xviii.,  where  we  are  told  that  he  lived  at  Arsinoe,  and 
that  he  had  ten  thousand  monks  subject  to  his  rule  ;  a  number 
which  Sozomen  also  gives  (H.  E.VI.  xxviii.).  It  is,  however,  doubtful 
whether  this  Serapion  of  Arsinoe  is  the  person  whose  Confer- 
ence Cassian  here  gives.  Gazet  identifies,  Tillemont  distinguishes 
the  two.  Jerome,  it  should  be  noticed,  speaks  in  Ep.  cviii.  (Epi- 
taphium  PauLx)  as  if  there  was  not  only  one  of  this  name  famous 
among  the  monks  of  Egypt  at  that  time. 


thirdly  philargyria,  i.e.,  avarice  or  the  love 
of  money,  fourthly  anger,  fifthly  dejection, 
sixthly  acedia,  i.e.,  listlessness  or  low  spirits, 
seventhly  cenodoxia,  i.e.,  boasting  or  vain 
glory,  and  eighthly  pride. 

CHAPTER   III. 

Of  the  two  classes  of  faults  and  their  fourfold  manner  of  acting 
on  us. 

Of  these  faults  then  there  are  two  classes. 
For  they  are  either  natural  to  us  as  gluttony, 
or  arise  outside  of  nature  as  covetousness. 
But  their  manner  of  acting  on  us  is  fourfold. 
For  some  cannot  be  consummated  without  an 
act  on  the  part  of  the  flesh,  as  gluttony  and 
fornication,  while  some  can  be  completed 
without  any  bodily  act,  as  pride  and  vainglory. 
Some  find  the  reasons  for  their  being  excited 
outside  us,  as  covetousness  and  anger;  others 
are  aroused  by  internal  feelings,  as  accidie  2 
and  dejection. 

CHAPTER    IV. 

A  review  of  the  passions  of  gluttony  and  fornication  and  their 
remedies. 

And  to  make  this  clearer  not  only  by  a  short 
discussion  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  but  by 


2  For  this  word  see  the  note  on  the  Institutes  V.  i. 


140 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


Scripture  proof  as  well,  gluttony  and  fornica- 
tion,  though  they  exist   in  us    naturally  (for 
sometimes  they  spring  up  without  any  incite- 
ment from  the  mind,  and  simply  at  the  motion 
and  allurement  of  the  flesh)  yet  if  they  are  to 
be  consummated,  must  find  an  external  object, 
and  thus  take  effect  only  through  bodily  acts. 
For  "  every  man  is  tempted  of  his  own  lust. 
Then  lust  when  it  has  conceived  beareth  sin, 
and    sin    when     it     is    consummated    begets 
death. "  x     For  the  first  Adam  could  not  have 
fallen  a  victim  to  gluttony  unless  he  had  had 
material    food    at    hand,    and    had    used     it 
wrongly,    nor    could    the    second   Adam    be 
tempted    without    the    enticement    of    some 
object,  when  it  was  said  to  Him:   "If  Thou 
art   the    Son  of    God,    command   that    these 
stones  be  made  bread."  2     And  it  is  clear  to 
everybody  that  fornication  also   is  only  com- 
pleted by  a  bodily  act,  as  God  -says  of  this 
spirit  to  the  blessed  Job :  "  And  his  force  is  in 
his  loins,  and  his  strength  in  the  navel  of  his 
belly."8     And  so  these  two  faults  in  partieri- 
lar,  which  are  carried  into  effect  by  the  aid 
of  the  flesh,  especially  require  bodily  absti- 
nence as  well  as  spiritual  care  of  the  soul ; 
since  the  determination  of  the  mind  is  not  in 
itself  enough    to    resist    their   attacks    (as   is 
sometimes  the  case  with  anger  or  gloominess 
or  the  other  passions,  which  an  effort  of  the 
mind  alone  can  overcome  without  any  morti- 
fication of  the  flesh)  ;  but  bodily  chastisement 
must  be  used  as  well,  and  be  carried  out  by 
means  of  fasting  and  vigils  and  acts  of  con- 
trition ;  and  to  this  must  be  added  change  of 
scene,  because  since  these  sins  are  the  results 
of  faults  of  both  mind  and  body,  so  they  can 
only  be  overcome  by  the  united  efforts  of  both. 
And  although  the  blessed  Apostle  says  gener- 
ally that  all  faults  are  carnal,  since  he  enumer- 
ates enmities  and  anger  and  heresies  among 
other  works  of  the  flesh,4  yet  in  order  to  cure 
them  and  to  discover  their  nature  more  exactly 
we  make  a  twofold  division  of  them :  for  we 
call  some  of  them  carnal,  and  some  spiritual. 
And    those    we    call    carnal,    which  specially 
have  to  do  with  pampering  the  appetites  of 
the  flesh,  and  with  which  it  is  so  charmed  and 
satisfied,  that  sometimes  it  excites  the  mind 
when  at  rest  and  even  drags  it  against  its  will 
to  consent  to  its  desire.      Of  which  the  blessed 
Apostle  says:  "  In  which  also  we  all  walked 
in  time  past  in  the  desires  of  our  flesh,  fulfill- 
ing the  will  of  the  flesh  and  of  our  thoughts, 
and  were  by  nature  children  of  wrath  even  as 
the  rest."  5     But  we  call  those  spiritual  which 
spring  only  from  the  impulse  of  the  mind  and 


not  merely  contribute  no  pleasure  to  the  flesh, 
but  actually  bring  on  it  a  weakness  that  is 
harmful  to  it,  and  only  feed  a  diseased  mind 
with  the  food  of  a  most  miserable  pleasure. 
And  therefore  these  need  a  single  medicine 
for  the  heart:  but  those  which  are  carnal 
can  only  be  cured,  as  we  said,  by  a  double 
remedy.  Whence  it  is  extremely  useful  for 
those  who  aspire  to  purity,  to  begin  by  with- 
drawing from  themselves  the  material  which 
feeds  these  carnal  passions,  through  which 
opportunity  for  or  recollection  of  these  same 
desires  can  arise  in  a  soul  that  is  still  affected 
by  the  evil.  For  a  complicated  disease  needs 
a  complicated  remedy.  For  from  the  body  the 
object  and  material  which  would  allure  it 
must  be  withdrawn,  for  fear  lest  the  lust  should 
endeavour  to  break  out  into  act ;  and  before 
the  mind  we  should  no  less  carefully  place 
diligent  meditation  on  Scripture  and  watchful 
anxiety  and  the  withdrawal  into  solitude,  lest 
it  should  give  birth  to  desire  even  in  thought. 
But  as  regards  other  faults  intercourse  with 
our  fellows  is  no  obstacle,  or  rather  it  is  of 
the  greatest  possible  use,  to  those  who  truly 
desire  to  get  rid  of  them,  because  in  mixing 
with  others  they  more  often  meet  with  rebuke, 
and  while  they  are  more  frequently  provoked 
the  existence  of  the  faults  is  made  evident,  and 
so  they  are  cured  with  speedy  remedies. 


CHAPTER   V. 

How  our  Lord  alone  was  tempted  without  sin. 

And  so  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  though 
declared  by  the  Apostle's  word  to  have  been 
tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are,  is  yet 
said  to  have  been  "without  sin,"  6  i.e.,  without 
the  infection  of  this  appetite,  as  He  knew 
nothing  of  incitements  of  carnal  lust,  with 
which  we  are  sure  to  be  troubled  even  against 
our  will  and  without  our  knowledge ; 7  for  the 
archangel  thus  describes  the  manner  of  His 
conception:  "The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come 
upon  thee  and  the  power  of  the   Most  High 


1  S.  Tames  i.  14,  15. 

2  S.  Matt.  iv.  3. 

3  Job  xl.  16. 


«  Cf.  Gal.  v.  19. 
0  Eph.  ii.  3. 


0  Heb.  iv.  15. 

7  The  following  from  D.  Mozley's  profound  work  on  the  Augus- 
tinian  Theory  of  Predestination  may  serve  ^o  illustrate  the  remarks 
in  the  text:  "  Scripture  says  that  our  Lord  was  in  all  points  tempted 
like  as  we  are.  But  the  Church  has  not  considered  it  consistent 
with  piety  to  interpret  this  text  to  mean  that  our  Lord  had  the  same 
direct  propension  to  sin  that  we  have,  or  that  which  is  called  by 
divines  concupiscence.  Such  direct  appetite  for  what  is  sinful  is  the 
characteristic  of  our  fallen  and  corrupt  nature;  and  our  Lord  did 
not  assume  a  corrupt,  but  a  sound  humanity.  Indeed,  concupis- 
cence, even  prior  to  and  independent  of  its  gratification,  has  of 
itself  the  nature  of  sin ;  and  therefore  could  not  belong  to  a  perfect 
Being.  Our  Lord  had  all  the  passions  and  affections  that  legiti- 
mately belong  to  man  ;  which  passions  and  affections,  tending  as 
they  do  in  their  own  natures  to  become  inordinate,  constituted  of 
themselves  a  state  of  trial ;  but  the  Church  has  regarded  our  Lord's 
trial  as  consisting  in  preserving  ordinate  affections  from  becoming 
inordinate,  rather  than  in  restraining  desire  proximate  to  sin  from 
gratification  "  (p.  97). 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   SERAPION. 


34i 


shall  overshadow  thee :  therefore  that  which 
shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called  holy,  the 
Son  of  God."1 

CHAPTER   VI. 

Of  the  manner  of  the  temptation  in  which  our  Lord  was 
attacked  by  the  devil. 

For  it  was  right  that  He  who  was  in  posses- 
sion of  the  perfect  image  and  likeness  of  God 
should  be  Himself  tempted  through  those 
passions,  through  which  Adam  also  was 
tempted  while  he  still  retained  the  image  of 
God  unbroken,  that  is,  through  gluttony,  vain- 
glory, pride;  and  not  through  those  in  which 
he  was  by  his  own  fault  entangled  and  in- 
volved after  the  transgression  of  the  command- 
ment, when  the  image  and  likeness  of  God  was 
marred.  For  it  was  gluttony  through  which  he 
took  the  fruit  of  the  forbidden  tree,  vainglory 
through  which  it  was  said  "Your  eyes  shall  be 
opened,"  and  pride  through  which  it  was  said 
"Ye  shall  be  as  gods,  knowing  good  and 
evil."'2  With  these  three  sins  then  we  read 
that  the  Lord  our  Saviour  was  also  tempted ; 
with  gluttony  when  the  devil  said  to  Him: 
"Command  these  stones  that  they  be  made 
bread :  "  with  vainglory :  "  If  Thou  art  the  Son 
of  God  cast  Thyself  down: "  with  pride,  when 
he  showed  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world 
and  the  glory  of  them  and  said:  "All  this  will 
I  give  to  Thee  if  Thou  wilt  fall  down  and 
worship  me:"3  in  order  that  He  might  by 
His  example  teach  us  how  we  ought  to  van- 
quish the  tempter  when  we  are  attacked  on 
the  same  lines  of  temptation  as  He  was.  And 
so  both  the  former  and  the  latter  are  spoken 
of  as  Adam ;  the  one  being  the  first  for  destruc- 
tion and  death,  and  the  other  the  first  for 
resurrection  and  life.  Through  the  one  the 
whole  race  of  mankind  is  brought  into  con- 
demnation, through  the  other  the  whole  race 
of  mankind  is  set  free.  The  one  was  fash- 
ioned out  of  raw  and  unformed  earth,  the  other 
was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  In  His  case 
then  though  it  was  fitting  that  He  should 'un- 
dergo temptation,  yet  it  was  not  necessary 
that  Fie  should  fail  under  it.  Nor  could  He 
who  had  vanquished  gluttony  be  tempted  by 
fornication,  which  springs  from  superfluity 
and  gluttony  as  its  root,  with  which  even  the 
first  Adam  would  not  have  been  destroyed 
unless  before  its  birth  he  had  been  deceived 
by  the  wiles  of  the  devil  and  fallen  a  vic- 
tim to  passion.  And  therefore  the  Son  of 
God  is  not  said  absolutely  to  have  come 
"in  the  flesh  of  sin,"  but  "in  the  likeness  of 


the  flesh  of  sin,"  because  though  His  was 
true  flesh  and  He  ate  and  drank  and  slept, 
and  truly  received  the  prints  of  the  nails, 
there  was  in  Him  no  true  sin  inherited 
from  the  fall,  but  only  what  was  something 
like  it.  For  He  had  no  experience  of  the 
fiery  darts  of  carnal  lust,  which  in  our  case 
arise  even  against  our  will,  from  the  constitu- 
tion of  our  natures,  but  He  took  upon  Him 
something  like  this,  by  sharing  in  our  nature. 
For  as  He  truly  fulfilled  every  function  which 
belongs  to  us,  and  bore  all  human  infirmities, 
He  has  consequently  been  considered  to  have 
been  subject  to  this  feeling  also,  that  He 
might  appear  through  these  infirmities  to 
bear  in  His  own  flesh  the  state  even  of  this 
fault  and  sin.  Lastly  the  devil  only  tempted 
Him  to  those  sins,  by  which  he  had  deceived 
the  first  Adam,  inferring  that  He  as  man 
would  similarly  be  deceived  in  other  matters 
if  he  found  that  He  was  overcome  by  those 
temptations  by  which  he  had  overthrown  His 
predecessor.  But  as  he  was  overthrown  in 
the  first  encounter  he  was  not  able  to  bring 
upon  Him  the  second  infirmity  which  had 
shot  up  as  from  the  root  of  the  first  fault. 
For  he  saw  that  He  had  not  even  admitted 
anything  from  which  this  infirmity  might  take 
its  rise,  and  it  was  idle  to  hope  for  the  fruit 
of  sin  from  Him,  as  he  saw  that  He  in  no 
sort  of  way  received  into  Himself  seeds  or 
roots  of  it.  Yet  according  to  Luke,  who 
places  last  that  temptation  in  which  he  uses 
the  words  "  If  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God,  cast 
Thyself  down,"4  we  can  understand  this  of 
the  feeling  of  pride,  so  that  that  earlier  one, 
which  Matthew  places  third,  in  which,  as  Luke 
the  evangelist  says,  the  devil  showed  Him  all 
the  kingdoms  of  the  world  in  a  moment  of 
time  and  promised  them  to  Him,  may  be  taken 
of  the  feeling  of  covetousness,  because  after 
His  victory  over  gluttony,  he  did  not  venture 
to  tempt  Him  to  fornication,  but  passed  on 
to  covetousness,  which  he  knew  to  be  the  root 
of  all  evils,5  and  when  again  vanquished  in 
this,  he  did  not  dare  attack  Him  with  any  of 
those  sins  which  follow,  which,  as  he  knew 
full  well,  spring  from  this  as  a  root  and 
source  ;  and  so  he  passed  on  to  the  last  pas- 
sion; viz.,  pride,  by  which  he  knew  that  those 
who  are  perfect  and  have  overcome  all  other 
sins,  can  be  affected,  and  owing  to  which  he 
remembered  that  he  himself  in  his  character 
of  Lucifer,  and  many  others  too,  had  fallen 
from  their  heavenly  estate,  without  tempta- 
tion from  any  of  the  preceding  passions.  In 
this  order  then  which  we  have  mentioned, 
which  is  the  one  given  by  the  evangelist  Luke, 


1  S.  Luke  i.  35. 


2  Gen.  iii.  5. 


3  Imasrinarhim. 


4  S.  Luke  iv.  9. 


1  Tim.  vi.  10. 


342 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


there  is  an  exact  agreement  between  the  al- 
lurements and  forms  of  the  temptations  by 
which  that  most  crafty  foe  attacked  both  the 
first  and  the  second  Adam.  For  to  the  one 
he  said  "Your  eyes  shall  be  opened;"  to  the 
other  "he  showed  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world 
and  the  glory  of  them."  In  the  one  case  he 
said  "  Ye  shall  be  as  gods ;  "  in  the  other,  "  If 
Thou  art  the  Son  of  God."  * 


CHAPTER   VII. 

How  vainglory  and  pride  can  be  consummated  without  any 
assistance  from  the  body. 

And  to  go  on  in  the  order  which  we  pro- 
posed, with  our  account  of  the  way  in  which 
the  other  passions  act  (our  analysis  of  which 
was  obliged  to  be  interrupted  by  this  account 
of  gluttony  and  of  the  Lord's  temptation)  vain- 
glory and  pride  can  be  consummated  even 
without  the  slightest  assistance  from  the  body. 
For  in  what  way  do  those  passions  need  any 
action  of  the  flesh,  which  bring  ample  destruc- 
tion on  the  soul  they  take  captive  simply  by  its 
assent  and  wish  to  gain  praise  and  glory  from 
men?  Or  what  act  on  the  part  of  the  body 
was  there  in  that  pride  of  old  in  the  case  of 
the  above  mentioned  Lucifer;  as  he  only  con- 
ceived it  in  his  heart  and  mind,  as  the  prophet 
tells  us:  "Who  saidst  in  thine  heart:  I  will 
ascend  into  heaven,  I  will  set  my  throne  above 
the  stars  of  God.  I  will  ascend  above  the 
heights  of  the  clouds,  I  will  be  like  the  most 
High."2  And  just  as  he  had  no  one  to  stir 
him  up  to  this  pride,  so  his  thoughts  alone 
were  the  authors  of  the  sin  when  complete 
and  of  his  eternal  fall ;  especially  as  no  exer- 
cise of  the  dominion  at  which  he  aimed 
followed. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

Of  covetousness,  which  is  something  outside  our  nature,  and 
of  the  difference  between  it  and  those  faults  which  are  natu- 
ral to  us. 

Covetousness  and  anger,  although  they  are 
not  of  the  same  character  (for  the  former  is 
something  outside  our  nature,  while  the 
latter  seems  to  have  as  it  were  its  seed  plot 
within  us)  yet  they  spring  up  in  the  same  way, 
as  in  most  instances  they  find  the  reasons  for 
their  being  stirred  in  something  outside  of  us. 
For  often  men  who  are  still  rather  weak  com- 
plain that  they  have  fallen  into  these  sins 
through  irritation  and  the  instigation  of 
others,   and   are   plunged   headlong   into  the 

1  Cf.  Gen.  iii.  5  with  S.  Matt.  iv.  6,  S.         2  Is.  xiv.  13,  14. 


passions  of  anger  and  covetousness  by  the 
provocation  of  other  people.  But  that  covet- 
ousness is  something  outside  our  nature,  we 
can  clearly  see  from  this;  viz.,  that  it  is  proved 
not  to  have  its  first  starting  point  inside  us, 
nor  does  it  originate  in  what  contributes  to 
keeping  body  and  soul  together,  and  to  the 
existence  of  life.  For  it  is  plain  that  nothing 
belongs  to  the  actual  needs  and  necessities  of 
our  common  life  except  our  daily  meat  and 
drink:  but  everything  else,  with  whatever 
zeal  and  care  we  preserve  it.  is  shown  to  be 
something  distinct  from  the  wants  of  man  by 
the  needs  of  life  itself.  And  so  this  tempta- 
tion, as  being  something  outside  our  nature, 
only  attacks  those  monks  who  are  but  luke- 
warm and  built  on  a  bad  foundation,  whereas 
those  which  are  natural  to  us  do  not  cease 
from  troubling  even  the  best  of  monks  and 
those  who  dwell  in  solitude.  And  so  far  is 
this  shown  to  be  true,  that  we  find  that  there 
are  some  nations  who  are  altogether  free  from 
this  passion  of  covetousness,  because  they 
have  never  by  use  and  custom  received  into 
themselves  this  fault  and  infirmity.  And  we 
believe  that  the  old  world  before  the  flood 
was  for  long  ages  ignorant  of  the  madness  of 
this  desire.  And  in  the  case  of  each  one  of 
us  who  makes  his  renunciation  of  the  world  a 
thorough  one,  we  know  that  it  is  extirpated 
without  any  difficulty,  if,  that  is,  a  man  gives 
up  all  his  property,  and  seeks  the  monastic 
discipline  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  allow  him- 
self to  keep  a  single  farthing.  And  we  can 
find  thousands  of  men  to  bear  witness  to 
this,  who  in  a  single  moment  have  given  up 
all  their  property,  and  have  so  thoroughly 
eradicated  this  passion  as  not  to  be  in  the 
slightest  degree  troubled  by  it  afterwards, 
though  all  their  life  long  they  have  to  fight 
against  gluttony,  and  cannot  be  safe  from  it 
without  striving  with  the  utmost  watchfulness 
of  heart  and  bodily  abstinence. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

How  dejection  and  accidie  generally  arise  without  any  exter- 
nal provocation,  as  in  the  case  of  other  faults.  3 

Dejection  and  accidie  generally  arise 
without  any  external  provocation,  like  those 
others  of  which  we  have  been  speaking:  for 
we  are  well  aware  that  they  often  harass  soli- 
taries, and  those  who  have  settled  themselves 
in  the   desert   without  any  intercourse  with 


3  Such  is  the  heading  which  Gazet  gives.  Petschenig  edits 
"  De  ira  atque  tristitia,  quod  inter  accedentia  vitia  plerumque  [non] 
inveniantur;  "  where  "  non  "is  his  own  insertion,  and  as  he  frankly 
tells  us,  the  heading  does  not  suit  the  chapter. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    SERAPION. 


343 


other  men,  and  this  in  the  most  distressing 
way.  And  the  truth  of  this  any  one  who  has 
lived  in  the  desert  and  made  trial  of  the  con- 
flicts of  the  inner  man,  can  easily  prove  by 
experience. 

CHAPTER   X. 

How  six  of  these  faults  are  related,  and  the  two  which  differ 
from  them  are  akin  to  one  another. 

Of  these  eight  faults  then,  although  they 
are  different  in  their  origin  and  in  their 
way  of  affecting  us,  yet  the  six  former;  viz., 
gluttony,  fornication,  covetousness,  anger, 
dejection,  accidie,  have  a  sort  of  connexion 
with  each  other,  and  are,  so  to  speak,  linked 
together  in  a  chain,  so  that  any  excess  of  the 
one  forms  a  starting  point  for  the  next.  For 
from  superfluity  of  gluttony  fornication  is 
sure  to  spring,  and  from  fornication  cov- 
etousness, from  covetousness  anger,  from 
anger,  dejection,  and  from  dejection,  accidie. 
And  so  we  must  fight  against  them  in  the 
same  way,  and  with  the  same  methods :  and 
having  overcome  one,  we  ought  always  to 
enter  the  lists  against  the  next.  For  a  tall 
and  spreading  tree  of  a  noxious  kind  will  the 
more  easily  be  made  to  wither  if  the  roots  on 
which  it  depends  have  first  been  laid  bare  or 
cut;  and  a  pond  of  water  which  is  dangerous 
will  be  dried  up  at  once  if  the  spring  and 
flowing  channel  which  produce  it  are  carefully 
stopped  up.  Wherefore  in  order  to  over- 
come accidie,  you  must  first  get  the  better 
of  dejection:  in  order  to  get  rid  of  dejection, 
anger  must  first  be  expelled :  in  order  to  quell 
anger,  covetousness  must  be  trampled  under 
foot :  in  order  to  root  out  covetousness,  forni- 
cation must  be  checked:  and  in  order  to 
destroy  fornication,  you  must  chastise  the 
sin  of  gluttony.  But  the  two  remaining 
faults;  viz.,  vainglory  and  pride,  are  connected 
together  in  a  somewhat  similar  way  as  the 
others  of  which  we  have  spoken,  so  that  the 
growth  of  the  one  makes  a  starting  point  for 
the  other  (for  superfluity  of  vainglory  pro- 
duces an  incentive  to  pride) ;  but  they  are 
altogether  different  from  the  six  former  faults, 
and  are  not  joined  in  the  same  category  with 
them,  since  not  only  is  there  no  opportunity 
given  for  them  to  spring  up  from  these,  but 
they  are  actually  aroused  in  an  entirely  differ- 
ent way  and  manner.  For  when  these  others 
have  been  eradicated  these  latter  flourish 
the  more  vigorously,  and  from  the  death  of  the 
others  they  shoot  forth  and  grow  up  all  the 
stronger:  and  therefore  we  are  attacked  by 
these  two  faults  in  quite  a  different  way.  For 
we  fall  into  each  one  of  those  six  faults  at  the 


moment  when  we  have  been  overcome  by  the 
ones  that  went  before  them;  but  into  these 
two  we  are  in  danger  of  falling  when  we  have 
proved  victorious,  and  above  all  after  some 
splendid  triumph.  In  the  cases  then  of  all 
faults  just  as  they  spring  up  from  the  growth 
of  those  that  go  before  them,  so  are  they  eradi- 
cated by  getting  rid  of  the  earlier*  ones.  And 
in  this  way  in  order  that  pride  may  be  driven 
out  vainglory  must  be  stifled,  and  so  if  we 
always  overcome  the  earlier  ones,  the  later 
ones  will  be  checked;  and  through  the  exter- 
mination of  those  that  lead  the  way,  the  rest 
of  our  passions  will  die  down  without  diffi- 
culty. And  though  these  eight  faults  of  which 
we  have  spoken  are  connected  and  joined 
together  in  the  way  which  we  have  shown,  yet 
they  may  be  more  exactly  divided  into  four 
groups  and  sub-divisions.  For  to  gluttony 
fornication  is  linked  by  a  special  tie:  to  cove- 
tousness anger,  to  dejection  accidie,  and  to 
vainglory  pride  is  closely  allied. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

Of  the  origin  and  character  of  each  of  these  faults. 

And  now,  to  speak  about  each  kind  of 
fault  separately:  of  gluttony  there  are  three 
sorts:  (i)  that  which  drives  a  monk  to  eat 
before  the  proper  and  stated  times ;  (2)  that 
which  cares  about  filling  the  belly  and  gor- 
ging it  with  all  kinds  of  food,  and  (3)  that 
which  is  on  the  lookout  for  dainties  and 
delicacies.  And  these  three  sorts  give  a  monk 
no  little  trouble,  unless  he  tries  to  free  him- 
self from  all  of  them  with  the  same  care  and 
scrupulousness.  For  just  as  one  should  never 
venture  to  break  one's  fast  before  the  right 
time  so  we  must  utterly  avoid  all  greediness 
in  eating,  and  the  choice  and  dainty  prepara- 
tion of  our  food :  for  from  these  three  causes 
different  but  extremely  dangerous  conditions 
of  the  soul  arise.  For  from  the  first  there 
springs  up  dislike  of  the  monastery,  and 
thence  there  grows  up  disgust  and  intolerance 
of  the  life  there,  and  this  is  sure  to  be  soon 
followed  by  withdrawal  and  speedy  departure 
from  it.  By  the  second  there  are  kindled  the 
fiery  darts  of  luxury  and  lasciviousness.  The 
third  also  weaves  the  entangling  meshes  of 
covetousness  for  the  nets  of  its  prisoners,  and 
ever  hinders  monks  from  following  the  perfect 
self-abnegation  of  Christ.  And  when  there 
are  traces  of  this  passion  in  us  we  can  recog- 
nize them  by  this;  viz.,  if  we  are  kept  to 
dine  by  one  of  the  brethren  we  are  not  content 
to  eat  our  food  with  the  relish  which  he  has 
prepared  and  offers  to  us,  but  take  the  unpar- 


344 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


donable  liberty  of  asking  to  have  something 
else  poured  over  it  or  added  to  it,  a  thing 
which  we  should  never  do  for  three  reasons : 
(i)  because  the  monastic  mind  ought  always 
to  be  accustomed  to  practise  endurance  and 
abstinence,  and  like  the  Apostle,  to  learn  to 
be  content  hi  whatever  state  he  is.1  For  one 
who  is  upset  by  taking  an  unsavoury  morsel 
once  and  in  a  way,  and  who  cannot  even  for 
a  short  time  overcome  the  delicacy  of  his 
appetite  will  never  succeed  in  curbing  the 
secret  and  more  important  desires  of  the 
body;  (2)  because  it  sometimes  happens  that 
at  the  time  our  host  is  out  of  that  particular 
thing  which  we  ask  for,  and  we  make  him 
feel  ashamed  of  the  wants  and  bareness  of 
his  table,  by  exposing  his  poverty  which  he 
would  rather  was  only  known  to  God;  (3) 
because  sometimes  other  people  do  not  care 
about  the  relish  which  we  ask  for,  and  so 
it  turns  out  that  we  are  annoying  most  of 
them  while  intent  on  satisfying  the  desires 
of  our  own  palate.  And  on  this  account 
we  must  by  all  means  avoid  such  a  liberty. 
Of  fornication  there  are  three  sorts:  (1) 
that  which  is  accomplished  by  sexual  inter- 
course; (2)  that  which  takes  place  without 
touching  a  woman,  for  which  we  read  that 
Onan  the  son  of  the  patriarch  Judah  was 
smitten  by  the  Lord;  and  which  is  termed 
by  Scripture  uncleanness  :  of  which  the 
Apostle  says :  "  But  I  say  to  the  unmarried 
and  to  widows,  that  it  is  good  for  them  if 
they  abide  even  as  I.  But  if  they  do  not 
contain  let  them  marry:  for  it  is  better  to 
marry  than  to  burn ;  "  2  (3)  that  which  is  con- 
ceived in  heart  and  mind,  of  which  the  Lord 
says  in  the  gospel :  "  Whosoever  looketh  on  a 
woman  to  lust  after  her  hath  already  com- 
mitted adultery  with  her  in  his  heart."3  And 
these  three  kinds  the  blessed  Apostle  tells 
us  must  be  stamped  out  in  one  and  the  same 
way.  "Mortify,"  says  he,  "your  members 
which  are  upon  the  earth,  fornication,  un- 
cleanness, lust,  etc." 4  And  again  of  two  of 
them  he  says  to  the  Ephesians:  "Let  forni- 
cation and  uncleanness  be  not  so  much  as 
named  among  you :  "  and  once  more :  "  But 
know  this  that  no  fornicator  or  unclean  person, 
or  covetous  person  who  is  an  idolater  hath 
inheritance  in  the  kingdom  of  Christ  and  of 
God."5  And  just  as  these  three  must  be 
avoided  by  us  with  equal  care,  so  they  one 
and  all  shut  us  out  and  exclude  us  equally 
from  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  Of  covetousness 
there  are  three  kinds:    (1)  That  which  hinders 


1  Cf.  Phil.  iv.  11. 

2  1  Cor.  vii.  8,  9. 

3  S.  Matt.  v.  28. 


*  Col.  iii.  5. 
B  Eph.  v.  3-5. 


renunciants  from  allowing  themselves  to  be 
stripped  of  their  goods  and  property;  (2) 
that  which  draws  us  to  resume  with  excessive 
eagerness  the  possession  of  those  things 
which  we  have  given  away  and  distributed  to 
the  poor;  (3)  that  which  leads  a  man  to  covet 
and  procure  what  he  never  previously  pos- 
sessed. Of  anger  there  are  three  kinds: 
one  which  rages  within,  which  is  called  in 
Greek  6v/i6g;  another  which  breaks  out  in 
word  and  deed  and  action,  which  they  term 
oQY^l  :  of  which  the  Apostle  speaks,  saying 
"  But  how  do  ye  lay  aside  all  anger  and  indig- 
nation;"6 the  third,  which  is  not  like  those 
in  boiling  over  and  being  done*  with  in  an 
hour,  but  which  lasts  for  days  and  long 
periods,  which  is  called  fi^vic.  And  all 
these  three  must  be  condemned  by  us  with 
equal  horror.  Of  dejection  there  are  two 
kinds:  one,  that  which  springs  up  when 
anger  has  died  down,  or  is  the  result  of  some 
loss  we  have  incurred  or  of  some  purpose 
which  has  been  hindered  and  interfered  with ; 
the  other,  that  which  comes  from  unreason- 
able anxiety  of  mind  or  from  despair.  Of 
accidie  there  are  two  kinds  :  one  of  which 
sends  those  affected  by  it  to  sleep;  while  the 
other  makes  them  forsake  their  cell  and  flee 
away.  Of  vainglory,  although  it  takes  various 
forms  and  shapes,  and  is  divided  into  differ- 
ent classes,  yet  there  are  two  main  kinds: 
(1)  when  we  are  puffed  up  about  carnal 
things  and  things  visible,  and  (2)  when  we 
are  inflamed  with  the  desire  of  vain  praise  for 
things  spiritual  and  unseen. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

How  vainglory  may  be  useful  to  us. 

But  in  one  matter  vainglory  is  found  to  be 
a  useful  thing  for  beginners.  I  mean  by 
those  who  are  still  troubled  by  carnal  sins,  as 
for  instance,  if,  when  they  are  troubled  by  the 
spirit  of  fornication,  they  formed  an  idea  of 
the  dignity  of  the  priesthood,  or  of  reputation 
among  all  men,  by  which  they  maybe  thought 
saints  and  immaculate :  and  so  with  these 
considerations  they  repell  the  unclean  sugges- 
tions of  lust,  as  deeming  them  base  and  at  least 
unworthy  of  their  rank  and  reputation ;  and 
so  by  means  of  a  smaller  evil  they  overcome 
a  greater  one.  For  it  is  better  for  a  man  to 
be  troubled  by  the  sin  of  vainglory  than  for 
him  to  fall  into  the  desire  for  fornication, 
from  which  he  either  cannot  recover  at  all  or 
only  with  great  difficulty  after  he  has  fallen. 


«  Col.  iii.  8. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    SERAPION. 


;45 


And  this  thought  is  admirably  expressed  by 
one  of  the  prophets  speaking  in  the  person  of 
God,  and  saying :  "  For  My  name's  sake  I  will 
remove  My  wrath  afar  off :  and  with  My  praise 
I  will  bridle  thee  lest  thou  shouldest  perish,"  a 
i.e.,  while  you  are  enchained  by  the  praises  of 
vainglory,  you  cannot  possibly  rush  on  into 
the  depths  of  hell,  or  plunge  irrevocably  into 
the  commission  of  deadly  sins.  Nor  need  we 
wonder  that  this  passion  has  the  power  of 
checking  anyone  from  rushing  into  the  sin  of 
fornication,  since  it  has  been  again  and  again 
proved  by  many  examples  that  when  once  a 
man  has  been  affected  by  its  poison  and 
plague,  it  makes  him  utterly  indefatigable,  so 
that  he  scarcely  feels  a  fast  of  even  two  or 
three  days.  And  we  have  often  known  some 
who  are  living  in  this  desert,  confessing  that 
when  their  home  was  in  the  monasteries  of 
Syria  they  could  without  difficulty  go  for  five 
days  without  food,  while  now  they  are  so  over- 
come with  hunger  even  by  the  third  hour,  that 
they  can  scarcely  keep  on  their  daily  fast  to 
the  ninth  hour.  And  on  this  subject  there  is 
a  very  neat  answer  of  Abbot  Macarius  2  to  one 
who  asked  him  why  he  was  troubled  with 
hunger  as  early  as  the  third  hour  in  the  desert, 
when  in  the  monastery  he  had  often  scorned 
food  for  a  whole  week,  without  feeling  hungry. 
"Because,"  said  he,  "here  there  is  nobody  to 
see  your  fast,  and  feed  and  support  you  with  his 
praise  of  you :  but  there  you  grew  fat  on  the 
notice  of  others  and  the  food  of  vainglory." 
And  of  the  way  in  which,  as  we  said,  the 
sin  of  fornication  is  prevented  by  an  attack 
of  vainglory,  there  is  an  excellent  and  signifi- 
cant figure  in  the  book  of  Kings,  where,  when 
the  children  of  Israel  had  been  taken  captive 
by  Necho,  King  of  Egypt,  Nebuchadnezzar, 
King  of  Assyria,  came  up  and  brought  them 
back  from  the  borders  of  Egypt  to  their  own 
country,  not  indeed  meaning  to  restore  them 
to  their  former  liberty  and  their  native  land, 
but  meaning  to  carry  them  off  to  his  own 
land  and  to  transport  them  to  a  still  more 
distant  country  than  the  land  of  Egypt  in 
which  they  had  been  prisoners.  And  this 
illustration  exactly  applies  to  the  case  before 
us.  For  though  there  is  less  harm  in  yield- 
ing to  the  sin  of  vainglory  than  to  fornica- 
tion, yet  it  is  more  difficult  to  escape  from 
the  dominion  of  vainglory.  For  somehow  or 
other  the  prisoner  who  is  carried  off  to  a 
greater  distance,  will  have  more  difficulty  in 
returning  to  his  native  land  and  the  freedom 
of  his  fathers,  and  the  prophet's  rebuke  will 
be  deservedly  aimed  at  him :  "  Wherefore  art 
thou  grown  old  in  a  strange  country?  "  3  since 


1  Is.  xlviii.  9. 


2  Cf.  note  on  the  Institutes  V.  xli. 


a  man  is  rightly  said  to  have  grown  old  in  a 
strange  country,  if  he  has  not  broken  up  the 
ground  of  his  faults.  Of  pride  there  are  two 
kinds:  (1)  carnal,  and  (2)  spiritual,  which 
is  the  worse.  For  it  especially  attacks  those 
who  are  seen  to  have  made  progress  in  some 
good  qualities. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Of  the  different  ways  in  which  all  these  faults  assault  us. 

Although  then  these  eight  faults  trouble 
all  sorts  of  men,  yet  they  do  not  attack  them 
all  in  the  same  way.  For  in  one  man  the 
spirit  of  fornication  holds  the  chief  place: 
wrath  rides  rough  shod  over  another:  over 
another  vainglory  claims  dominion:  in  an- 
other pride  holds  the  field :  and  though  it 
is  clear  that  we  are  all  attacked  by  all  of 
them,  yet  the  difficulties  come  to  each  of  us 
in  very  different  ways  and  manners. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Of  the  struggle  into  which  we  must  enter  against  our  faults, 
when  they  attack  us. 

Wherefore  we  must  enter  the  lists  against 
these  faults  in  such  a  way  that  every  one 
should  discover  his  besetting  sin,  and  direct 
his  main  attack  against  it,  directing  all  his 
care  and  watchfulness  of  mind  to  guard 
against  its  assault,  directing  against  it  daily 
the  weapons  of  fasting,  and  at  all  times  hurl- 
ing against  it  the  constant  darts  of  sighs  and 
groanings  from  the  heart,  and  employing 
against  it  the  labours  of  vigils  and  the  medi- 
tation of  the  heart,  and  further  pouring  forth 
to  God  constant  tears  and  prayers  and  contin- 
ually and  expressly  praying  to  be  delivered 
from  its  attack.  For  it  is  impossible  for  a 
man  to  win  a  triumph  over  any  kind  of  pas- 
sion, unless  he  has  first  clearly  understood 
that  he  cannot  possibly  gain  the  victory  in 
the  struggle  with  it  by  his  own  strength  and 
efforts,  although  in  order  that  he  may  be  ren- 
dered pure  he  must  night  and  day  persist  in 
the  utmost  care  and  watchfulness.  And  even 
when  he  feels  that  he  has  got  rid  of  this  fault, 
he  should  still  search  the  inmost  recesses  of 
his  heart  with  the  same  purpose,  and  single 
out  the  worst  fault  which  he  can  see  among 
those  still  there,  and  bring  all  the  forces  of 
the  Spirit  to  bear  against  it  in  particular,  and 


3  Baruch  iii.  n. 


146 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


so  by  always  overcoming  the  stronger  pas- 
sions, he  will  gain  a  quick  and  easy  victory 
over  the  rest,  because  by  a  course  of  triumphs 
the  soul  is  made  more  vigorous,  and  the  fact 
that  the  next  conflict  is  with  weaker  passion 
insures  him  a  readier  success  in  the  struggle : 
as  is  generally  the  case  with  those  who  are 
wont  to  face  all  kinds  of  wild  beasts  in  the 
presence  of  the  kings  of  this  world,  out  of 
consideration  for  the  rewards  —  a  kind  of 
spectacle  which  is  generally  called  "pancar- 
pus."1  Such  men,  I  say,  direct  their  first 
assault  against  whatever  beasts  they  see  to  be 
the  strongest  and  fiercest,  and  when  they  have 
despatched  these,  then  they  can  more  easily 
lay  low  the  remaining  ones,  which  are  not  so 
terrible  and  powerful.  So  too,  by  always 
overcoming  the  stronger  passions,  as  weaker 
ones  take  their  place,  a  perfect  victory  will 
be  secured  for  us  without  any  risk.  Nor  need 
we  imagine  that  if  any  one  grapples  with  one 
fault  in  particular,  and  seems  too  careless 
about  guarding  against  the  attacks  of  others, 
he  will  be  easily  wounded  by  a  sudden  assault, 
for  this  cannot  possibly  happen.  For  where 
a  man  is  anxious  to  cleanse  his  heart,  and  has 
steeled  his  heart's  purpose  against  the  attack 
of  any  one  fault,  it  is  impossible  for  him  not 
to  have  a  general  dread  of  all  other  faults  as 
well,  and  take  similar  care  of  them.  For  if 
a  man  renders  himself  unworthy  of  the  prize 
of  purity  by  contaminating  himself  with  other 
faults,  how  can  he  possibly  succeed  in  gaining 
the  victory  over  that  one  passion  from  which 
he  is  longing  to  be  freed?  But  when  the  main 
purpose  of  our  heart  has  singled  out  one  pas- 
sion as  the  special  object  of  its  attack,  we 
shall  pray  about  it  more  earnestly,  and  with 
special  anxiety  and  fervour  shall  entreat  that 
we  may  be  more  especially  on  our  guard 
against  it  and  so  succeed  in  gaining  a  speedy 
victory.  For  the  giver  of  the  law  himself 
teaches  us  that  we  ought  to  follow  this  plan 
in  our  conflicts  and  not  to  trust  in  our  own 
power;  as  he  says:  "Thou  shalt  not  fear  them 
because  the  Lord  thy  God  is  in  the  midst  of 
thee,  a  God  mighty  and  terrible:  He  will  con- 
sume these  nations  in  thy  sight  by  little  and 
little  and  by  degrees.  Thou  wilt  not  be  able 
to  destroy  them  altogether:  lest  perhaps  the 
beasts  of  the  earth  should  increase  upon  thee. 
But  the  Lord  thy  God  shall  deliver  them  in 
thy  sight;  and  shall  slay  them  until  they  be 
utterly  destroyed."  * 


1  Pancarfins  (ndyKapTro<;).  The  word  was  originally  applied  to 
an  offering  of  all  kinds  of  fruit.  Cf.  Tertullian  ad  Valent.  xii.  It 
is  also  used  in  the  general  sense  "  of  all  sorts  "  by  Augustine,  Adv. 
Secund.  xxiii.  Cassian  here  speaks  as  if  it  had  become  the  popular 
name  for  the  conflicts  of  gladiators  with  all  kinds  of  beasts,  though 
there  is  apparently  no  other  authority  for  this. 

2  Deut.  vii.  21-23. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

How  we  can  do  nothing  against  our  faults  without  the  help  of 
God,  and  how  we  should  not  be  puffed  up  by  victories  over 
them. 

And  that  we  ought  not  to  be  puffed  up  by 
victories  over  them  he  likewise  charges  us ;  say- 
ing, "  Lest  after  thou  hast  eaten  and  art  filled, 
hast  built  goodly  houses  and  dwelt  in  them, 
and  shalt  have  herds  of  oxen  and  flocks  of 
sheep,  and  plenty  of  gold  and  of  silver,  and 
of  all  things,  thy  heart  be  lifted  up  and  thou 
remember  not  the  Lord  thy  God,  who  brought 
thee  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt,  out  of  the 
house  of  bondage ;  and  was  thy  leader  in  the 
great  and  terrible  wilderness."3  Solomon 
also  says  in  Proverbs :  "  When  thine  enemy 
shall  fall  be  not  glad,  and  in  his  ruin  be  not 
lifted  up,  lest  the  Lord  see  and  it  displease 
Him,  and  He  turn  away  His  wrath  from  him, "  4 
i.e.,  lest  He  see  thy  pride  of  heart,  and  cease 
from  attacking  him,  and  thou  begin  to  be  for- 
saken by  Him  and  so  once  more  to  be  troubled 
by  that  passion  which  by  God's  grace  thou 
hadst  previously  overcome.  For  the  prophet 
would  not  have  prayed  in  these  words,  "  Deliver 
not  up  to  beasts,  O  Lord,  the  soul  that  con- 
fesseth  to  Thee,"5  unless  he  had  known  that 
because  of  their  pride  of  heart  some  were  given 
over  again  to  those  faults  which  they  had  over- 
come, in  order  that  they  might  be  humbled. 
Wherefore  it  is  well  for  us  both  to  be  certified 
by  actual  experience,  and  also  to  be  instructed 
by  countless  passages  of  Scripture,  that  we 
cannot  possibly  overcome  such  mighty  foes  in 
our  own  strength,  and  unless  supported  by 
the  aid  of  God  alone;  and  that  we  ought 
always  to  refer  the  whole  of  our  victory  each 
day  to  God  Himself,  as  the  Lord  Himself  also 
gives  us  instruction  by  Moses  on  this  very 
point:  "  Say  not  in  thine  heart  when  the  Lord 
thy  God  shall  have  destroyed  them  in  thy  sight: 
For  my  righteousness  hath  the  Lord  brought  me 
in  to  possess  this  land,  whereas  these  nations 
are  destroyed  for  their  wickedness.  For  it  is 
not  for  thy  righteousness,  and  the  uprightness 
of  thine  heart,  that  thou  shalt  go  in  to  possess 
their  lands :  but  because  they  have  done 
wickedly  they  are  destroyed  at  thy  coming 
in."  6  I  ask  what  could  be  said  clearer  in  op- 
position to  that  impious  notion  and  imperti- 
nence of  ours,  in  which  we  want  to  ascribe 
everything  that  we  do  to  our  own  free  will  and 
our  own  exertions  ?  "  Say  not, "  he  tells  us,  "  in 
thine  heart,  when  the  Lord  thy  God  shall 
have    destroyed  them  in   thy  sight:    For  my 


3  Deut.  viii.  12-15. 

*  Prov.  xxiv.  17,  i3(LXX.). 


0  Ps.  lxxiii.  (Ixxiv.)  19. 
c  Deut.  ix.  4,  5. 


CONFERENCE   OF    ABBOT   SERAPION. 


347 


righteousness  the  Lord  hath  brought  me  in  to 
possess  this  land."  To  those  who  have  their 
eyes  opened  and  their  ears  ready  to  hearken 
does  not  this  plainly  say:  When  your  struggle 
with  carnal  faults  has  gone  well  for  you,  and 
you  see  that  you  are  free  from  the  filth  of 
them,  and  from  the  fashions  of  this  world, 
do  not  be  puffed  up  by  the  success  of  the 
conflict  and  victory  and  ascribe  it  to  your  own 
power  and  wisdom,  nor  fancy  that  you  have 
gained  the  victory  over  spiritual  wickedness 
and  carnal  sins  through  your  own  exertions  and 
energy,  and  free  will?  For  there  is  no  doubt 
that  in  all  this  you  could  not  possibly  have 
succeeded,  unless  you  had  been  fortified  and 
protected  by  the  help  of  the  Lord. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Of  the  meaning  of  the  seven  nations  of  whose  lands  Israel 
took  possession,  and  the  reason  why  they  are  sometimes 
spoken  of  as  "  seven,"  and  sometimes  as  "  many." 

These  are  the  seven  nations  whose  lands 
the  Lord  promised  to  give  to  the  children  of 
Israel  when  they  came  out  of  Egypt.  And 
everything  which,  as  the  Apostle  says,  hap- 
pened to  them  "  in  a  figure  "  l  we  ought  to  take 
as  written  for  our  correction.  For  so  we 
read:  "When  the  Lord  thy  God  shall  have 
brought  thee  into  the  land,  which  thou  art 
going  in  to  possess,  and  shall  have  destroyed 
many  nations  before  thee,  the  Hittite,  and  the 
Girgashites,  and  the  Amorite,  the  Canaanite, 
and  the  Perizzite,  andtheHivite,  andthejebu- 
site,  seven  nations  much  more  numerous  than 
thou  art  and  much  stronger  than  thou :  and  the 
Lord  thy  God  shall  have  delivered  them  to 
thee,  thou  shalt  utterly  destroy  them."  2  And 
the  reason  that  they  are  said  to  be  much  more 
numerous,  is  that  faults  are  many  more  in 
number  than  virtues  and  so  in  the  list  of 
them  the  nations  are  reckoned  as  seven  in 
number,  but  when  the  attack  upon  them  is 
spoken  of  they  are  set  down  without  their 
number  being  given,  for  thus  we  read  "And 
shall  have  destroyed  many  nations  before 
thee."  For  the  race  of  carnal  passions  which 
springs'  from  this  sevenfold  incentive  and 
root  of  sin,  is  more  numerous  than  that  of 
Israel.  For  thence  spring  up  murders,  strifes, 
heresies,  thefts,  false  witness,  blasphemy,  sur- 
feiting, drunkenness,  back-biting,  buffoon- 
ery, filthy  conversation,  lies,  perjury,  foolish 
talking,  scurrility,  restlessness,  greediness, 
bitterness,  clamour,  wrath,  contempt,  mur- 
muring, temptation,  despair,  and  many  other 


faults,  which  it  would  take  too  long  to  de- 
scribe. And  if  we  are  inclined  to  think  these 
small  matters,  let  us  hear  what  the  Apostle 
thought  about  them,  and  what  was  his  opinion 
of  them:  "Neither  murmur  ye,"  says  he,  "as 
some  of  them  murmured,  and  were  destroyed 
of  the  destroyer :  "  and  of  temptation  :  "  Neither 
let  us  tempt  Christ  as  some  of  them  tempted 
and  perished  by  the  serpents."3  Of  back- 
biting: "Love  not  backbiting  lest  thou  be 
rooted  out. "  4  And  of  despair :  "  Who  despair- 
ing have  given  themselves  up  to  lascivious- 
ness  unto  the  working  of  all  error,  in 
uncleanness." 5  And  that  clamour  is  con- 
demned as  well  as  anger  and  indignation  and 
blasphemy,  the  words  of  the  same  Apostle 
teach  us  as  clearly  as  possible  when  he  thus 
charges  us:  "Let  all  bitterness,  and  anger, 
and  indignation,  and  clamour,  and  blasphemy 
be  put  away  from  you  with  all  malice,"  6  and 
many  more  things  like  these.  And  though 
these  are  far  more  numerous  than  the  virtues 
are,  yet  if  those  eight  principal  sins,  from 
which  we  know  that  these  naturally  proceed, 
are  first  overcome,  all  these  at  once  sink  down, 
and  are  destroyed  together  with  them  with 
a  lasting  destruction.  For  from  gluttony 
proceed  surfeiting  and  drunkenness.  From 
fornication  filthy  conversation,  scurrility,  buf- 
foonery and  foolish  talking.  From  covet- 
ousness,  lying,  deceit,  theft,  perjury,  the 
desire  of  filthy  lucre,  false  witness,  violence, 
inhumanity,  and  greed.  From  anger,  murders, 
clamour  and  indignation.  From  dejection, 
rancor,  cowardice,  bitterness,  despair.  From 
accidie,  laziness,  sleepiness,  rudeness,  rest- 
lessness, wandering  about,  instability  both  of 
mind  and  body,  chattering,  inquisitiveness. 
From  vainglory,  contention,  heresies,  boast- 
ing and  confidence  in  novelties.  From  pride, 
contempt,  envy,  disobedience,  blasphemy, 
murmuring,  backbiting.  And  that  all  these 
plagues  are  stronger  than  we,  we  can  tell  very 
plainly  from  the  way  in  which  they  attack  us. 
For  the  delight  in  carnal  passions  wars  more 
powerfully  in  our  members  than  does  the 
desire  for  virtue,  which  is  only  gained  with 
the  greatest  contrition  of  heart  and  body. 
But  if  you  will  only  gaze  with  the  eyes  of  the 
spirit  on  those  countless  hosts  of  our  foes, 
which  the  Apostle  enumerates  where  he  says : 
"  For  we  wrestle  not  against  flesh  and  blood, 
but  against  principalities,  against  powers, 
against  the  world-rulers  of  this  darkness, 
against  spiritual  wickedness  in  heavenly 
places,"  7  and  this  which  we  find  of  the  right- 


1  Cf.  i  Cor.  x.  6. 


2  Deut.  vii.  i,  2. 


s  1  Cor.  x.  9,  10. 

*  Prov.  xx.  13  (LXX.). 

B  Eph.  iv.  19. 


6  Eph.  iv.  31. 

7  Ibid.,  iv.  12. 


348 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


eous  man  in  the  nineteenth  Psalm:  "A  thou- 
sand shall  fall  beside  thee  and  ten  thousand 
at  thy  right  hand,"  1  then  you  will  clearly  see 
that  they  are  far  more  numerous  and  more 
powerful  than  are  we,  carnal  and  earthly  crea- 
tures as  we  are,  while  to  them  is  given  a 
substance  which  is  spiritual  and  incorporeal. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A  question  with  regard  to  the  comparison  of  seven  nations 
with  eight  faults. 

Germanus  :  How  then  is  it  that  there  are 
eight  faults  which  assault  us,  when  Moses 
reckons  the  nations  opposed  to  the  people  of 
Israel  as  seven,  and  how  is  it  well  for  us  to 
take  possession  of  the  territory  of  our  faults  ? 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

The  answer  how  the  number  of  eight  nations  is  made  up  in 
accordance  with  the  eight  faults. 

Serapion:  Everybody  is  perfectly  agreed 
that  there  are  eight  principal  faults  which 
affect  a  monk.  And  all  of  them  are  not  in- 
cluded in  the  figure  of  the  nations  for  this 
reason,  because  in  Deuteronomy  Moses,  or 
rather  the  Lord  through  him,  was  speaking  to 
those  who  had  already  gone  forth  from  Egypt 
and  been  set  free  from  one  most  powerful 
nation,  I  mean  that  of  the  Egyptians.  And 
we  find  that  this  figure  holds  good  also  in  our 
case,  as  when  we  have  got  clear  of  the  snares 
of  this  world  we  are  found  to  be  free  from 
gluttony,  i.e.,  the  sin  of  the  belly  and  palate; 
and  like  them  we  have  a  conflict  against  these 
seven  remaining  nations,  without  taking 
account  at  all  of  the  one  which  has  been 
already  overcome.  And  the  land  of  this 
nation  was  not  given  to  Israel  for  a  possession, 
but  the  command  of  the  Lord  ordained  that 
they  should  at  once  forsake  it  and  go  forth 
from  it.  And  for  this  cause  our  fasts  ought 
to  be  made  moderate,  that  there  may  be  no 
need  for  us  through  excessive  abstinence, 
which  results  from  weakness  of  the  flesh  and 
infirmity,  to  return  again  to  the  land  of  Egypt, 
i.e.,  to  our  former  greed  and  carnal  lust  which 
we  forsook  when  we  made  our  renunciation 
of  this  world.  And  this  has  happened  in  a 
figure,  in  those  who  after  having  gone  forth 
into  the  desert  of  virtue  again  hanker  after  the 
flesh  pots  over  which  they  sat  in  Egypt. 


1  Ps.  xc.  (xci.)  7. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

The  reason  why  one  nation  is  to  be  forsaken,  while  seven  are 
commanded  to  be  destroyed. 

But  the  reason  why  that  nation  in  which 
the  children  of  Israel  were  born,  was  bidden 
not  to  be  utterly  destroyed  but  only  to  have  its 
land  forsaken,  while  it  was  commanded  that 
these  seven  nations  were  to  be  completely 
destroyed,  is  this:  because  however  great  may 
be  the  ardour  of  spirit,  inspired  by  which  we 
have  entered  on  the  desert  of  virtues,  yet  we 
cannot  possibly  free  ourselves  entirely  from 
the  neighbourhood  of  gluttony  or  from  its 
service  and,  so  to  speak,  from  daily  inter- 
course with  it.  For  the  liking  for  delicacies 
and  dainties  will  live  on  as  something  natural 
and  innate  in  us,  even  though  we  take  pains 
to  cut  off  all  superfluous  appetites  and 
desires,  which,  as  they  cannot  be  altogether 
destroyed,  ought  ,to  be  shunned  and  avoided. 
For  of  these  we  read  "  Take  no  care  for  the 
flesh  with  its  desires."  2  While  then  we  still 
retain  the  feeling  for  this  care,  which  we  are 
bidden  not  altogether  to  cut  off,  but  to  keep 
without  its  desires,  it  is  clear  that  we  do  not 
destroy  the  Egyptian  nation  but  separate  our- 
selves in  a  sort  of  way  from  it,  not  thinking 
anything  about  luxuries  and  delicate  feasts, 
but,  as  the  Apostle  says,  being  "content  with 
our  daily  food  and  clothing."3  And  this  is 
commanded  in  a  figure  in  the  law,  in  this 
way:  "Thou  shalt  not  abhor  the  Egyptian, 
because  thou  wast  a  stranger  in  his  land."4 
For  necessary  food  is  not  refused  to  the  body 
without  danger  to  it  and  sinfulness  in  the 
soul.  But  of  those  seven  troublesome  faults 
we  must  in  every  possible  way  root  out  the 
affections  from  the  inmost  recesses  of  our 
souls.  For  of  them  we  read :  "Let  all  bitter- 
ness and  anger  and  indignation  and  clamour 
and  blasphemy  be  put  away  from  you  with  all 
malice:"  and  again:  "But  fornication  and 
all  uncleanness  and  covetousness  let  it  not  so 
much  as  be  named  among  you,  or  obscenity  or 
foolish  talking  or  scurrility."5  We  can  then 
cut  out  the  roots  of  these  faults  which  are 
grafted  into  our  nature  from  without  while 
we  cannot  possibly  cut  off  occasions  of  glut- 
tony. For  however  far  we  have  advanced, 
we  cannot  help  being  what  we  were  born. 
And  that  this  is  so  we  can  show  not  only  from 
the  lives  of  little  people  like  ourselves  but 
from  the  lives  and  customs  of  all  who  have 
attained  perfection,  who  even  when  they  have 


2  Rom.  xiii.  14. 

3  Cf.  1  Tim.  vi.  8. 


4  Deut.  xxiii.  7. 

0  Eph.  iv.  31;  v.  3,  4- 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    SERAPION. 


149 


got  rid  of  incentives  to  all  other  passions,  and 
are  retiring  to  the  desert  with  perfect  fervour 
of  spirit  and  bodily  abnegation,  yet  still  can- 
not do  without  thought  for  their  daily  meal 
and  the  preparation  of  their  food  from  year  to 
year. 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Of  the  nature  of  gluttony,  which  may  be  illustrated  by  the 
simile  of  the  eagle. 

An  admirable  illustration  of  this  passion, 
with  which  a  monk,  however  spiritual  and 
excellent,  is  sure  to  be  hampered,  is  found  in 
the  simile  of  the  eagle.  For  this  bird  when 
in  its  flight  on  high  it  has  soared  above  the 
highest  clouds,  and  has  withdrawn  itself  from 
the  eyes  of  all  mortals  and  from  the  face  of 
the  whole  earth,  is  yet  compelled  by  the  needs 
of  the  belly  to  drop  down  and  descend  to  the 
earth  and  feed  upon  carrion  and  dead  bodies. 
And  this  clearly  shows  that  the  spirit  of  glut- 
tony cannot  be  altogether  extirpated  like  all 
other  faults,  nor  be  entirely  destroyed  like 
them,  but  that  we  can  only  hold  down  and 
check  by  the  power  of  the  mind  all  incentives 
to  it  and  all  superfluous  appetites. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Of  the   lasting   character  of   gluttony  as   described   to  some 
philosophers. 

For  the  nature  of  this  fault  was  admirably 
expressed  under  cover  of  the  following  puzzle 
by  one  of  the  Elders  in  a  discussion  with 
some  philosophers,  who  thought  that  they 
might  chaff  him  like  a  country  bumpkin 
because  of  his  Christian  simplicity.  "  My 
father,  "  said  he,  "  left  me  in  the  clutches  of  a 
great  many  creditors.  All  the  others  I  have 
paid  in  full,  and  have  freed  myself  from  all 
their  pressing  claims ;  but  one  I  cannot  satisfy 
even  by  a  daily  payment. "  And  when  they 
could  not  see  the  meaning  of  the  puzzle,  and 
urgently  begged  him  to  explain  it:  "I  was," 
said  he, "  in  my  natural  condition,  encompassed 
by  a  great  many  faults.  But  when  God  in- 
spired me  with  the  longing  to  be  free,  I 
renounced  this  world,  and  at  the  same  time 
gave  up  all  my  property  which  I  had  inherited 
from  my  father,  and  so  I  satisfied  them  all 
like  pressing  creditors,  and  freed  myself 
entirely  from  them.  But  I  was  never  able 
altogether  to  get  rid  of  the  incentives  to  glut- 
tony. For  though  I  reduce  the  quantity  of 
food  which  I  take  to  the  smallest  possible 
amount,  yet  I  cannot  avoid  the  force  of  its 
daily  solicitations,  but  must  be  perpetually 


'dunned'  by  it,  and  be  making  as  it  were  in- 
terminable payments  by  continually  satisfying 
it,  and  pay  never  ending  toll  at  its  demand." 
Then  they  declared  that  this  man,  whom  they 
had  till  now  despised  as  a  booby  and  a  country 
bumpkin,  had  thoroughly  grasped  the  first 
principles  of  philosophy,  i.e.,  training  in 
ethics,  and  they  marvelled  that  he  could  by 
the  light  of  nature  have  learnt  that  which  no 
schooling  in  this  world  could  have  taught 
him,  while  they  themselves  with  all  their 
efforts  and  long  course  of  training  had  not 
learnt  this.  This  is  enough  on  gluttony  in 
particular.  Now  let  us  return  to  the  discourse 
in  which  we  had  begun  to  consider  the  general 
relation  of  our  faults  to  each  other. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

How  it  was  that  God  foretold  to  Abraham  that  Israel  would 
have  to  drive  out  ten  nations. 

When  the  Lord  was  speaking  with  Abraham 
about  the  future  (a  point  which  you  did  not 
ask  about)  we  find  that  He  did  not  enumerate 
seven  nations,  but  ten,  whose  land  He 
promised  to  give  to  his  seed.1  And  this 
number  is  plainly  made  up  by  adding  idolatry, 
and  blasphemy,  to  whose  dominion,  before  the 
knowledge  of  God  and  the  grace  of  Baptism, 
both  the  irreligious  hosts  of  the  Gentiles  and 
blasphemous  ones  of  the  Jews  were  subject, 
while  they  dwelt  in  a  spiritual  Egypt.  But 
when  a  man  has  made  his  renunciation  and 
come  forth  from  thence,  and  having  by  God's 
grace  conquered  gluttony,  has  come  into  the 
spiritual  wilderness,  then  he  is  free  from  the 
attacks  of  these  three,  and  will  only  have  to 
wage  war  against  those  seven  which  Moses 
enumerates. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

How  it  is  useful  for  us  to  take  possession  of  their  lands. 

But  the  fact  that  we  are  bidden  for  our  good 
to  take  possession  of  the  countries  of  those 
most  wicked  nations,  may  be  understood  in 
this  way.  Each  fault  has  its  own  especial  corner 
in  the  heart,  which  it  claims  for  itself  in  the 
recesses  of  the  soul,  and  drives  out  Israel, 
i.e.,  the  contemplation  of  holy  and  heavenly 
things,  and  never  ceases  to  oppose  them.  For 
virtues  cannot  possibly  live  side  by  side  with 
faults.  "For  what  participation  hath  right- 
eousness with  unrighteousness?  Or  what  fel- 
lowship hath  light  with  darkness?  "  2     But  as 


1  Cf.  Gen.  xv.  18-2  r. 


2  2  Cor.  vi.  u. 


35° 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


soon  as  these  faults  have  been  overcome  by 
the  people  of  Israel,  i.e.,  by  those  virtues 
which  war  against  them,  then  at  once  the 
place  in  our  heart  which  the  spirit  of  concu- 
piscence and  fornication  had  occupied,  will 
be  filled  by  chastity.  That  which  wrath  had 
held,  will  be  claimed  by  patience.  That 
which  had  been  occupied  by  a  sorrow  that 
worketh  death,  will  be  taken  by  a  godly  sor- 
row and  one  full  of  joy.  That  which  had 
been  wasted  by  accidie,  will  at  once  be 
tilled  by  courage.  That  which  pride  had 
trodden  down  will  be  ennobled  by  humility: 
and  so  when  each  of  these  faults  has  been 
expelled,  their  places  (that  is  the  tendency 
towards  them)  will  be  rilled  by  the  opposite 
virtues  which  are  aptly  termed  the  children  of 
Israel,  that  is,  of  the  soul  that  seeth  God : 1 
and  when  these  have  expelled  all  passions 
from  the  heart  we  may  believe  that  they  have 
recovered  their  own  possessions  rather  than 
invaded  those  of  others. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

How  the  lands  from  which  the  Canaanites  were  expelled,  had 
been  assigned  to  the  seed  of  Shem. 

For,  as  an  ancient  tradition  tells  us,2  these 
same  lands  of  the  Canaanites  into  which  the 
children  of  Israel  were  brought,  had  been 
formerly  allotted  to  the  children  of  Shem  at 
the  division  of  the  world,  and  afterward  the 
descendants  of  Ham  wickedly  invading  them 
with  force  and  violence  took  possession  of 
them.  And  in  this  the  righteous  judgment  of 
God  is  shown,  as  He  expelled  from  the  land 
of  others  these  who  had  wrongfully  taken 
possession  of  them,  and  restored  to  those 
others  the  ancient  property  of  their  fathers 
which  had  been  assigned  to  their  ancestors  at 
the  division  of  the  world.  And  we  can  per- 
fectly well  see  that  this  figure  holds  good  in 
our  own  case.  For  by  nature  God's  will 
assigned  the  possession  of  our  heart  not  to 
vices  but  to  virtues,  which,  after  the  fall  of 
Adam  were  driven  out  from  their  own  country 
by  the  sins  which  grew  up,  i.e.,  by  the  Canaan- 
ites; and  so  when  by  God's  grace  they  are  by 
our  efforts  and  labour  restored  again  to  it,  we 
may  hold  that  they  have  not  occupied  the 
territory  of  another,  but  rather  have  recovered 
their  own  country. 


1  Cf.  the  note  on  "  Against  Nestorius  "  VII.  ix. 

2  The  "ancient  tradition"  to  which  Cassian  here  alludes  is 
given  in  the  Clementine  Recognitions  I.  xxix.,  xxx.  ;  and  in 
Epiphanius  "  Heresies,"  c.  Ixvi.  §  83,  so.,  where  it  is  given  as  an 
answer  to  the  Manichsean  objection  against  the  cruelty  and  injustice 
of  the  extermination  of  the  Canaanites  by  the  Israelites. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

Different  passages  of  Scripture  on  the  meaning  of  the  eight 
faults. 

And  in  reference  to  these  eight  faults  we 
also  have  the  following  in  the  gospel :  "  But 
when  the  unclean  spirit  is  gone  out  from  a 
man,  he  walketh  through  dry  places  seeking 
rest  and  findeth  none.  Then  he  saith,  I  will 
return  to  my  house  from  whence  I  came  out : 
and  coming  he  findeth  it  empty,  swept,  and 
garnished :  then  he  goeth  and  taketh  seven 
other  spirits  worse  than  himself,  and  they 
enter  in  and  dwell  there :  and  the  last  state  of 
that  man  is  made  worse  than  the  first."  3  Lo, 
just  as  in  the  former  passages  we  read  of 
seven  nations  besides  that  of  the  Egyptians 
from  which  the  children  of  Israel  had  gone 
forth,  so  here  too  seven  unclean  spirits  are 
said  to  return  beside  that  one  which  we  first 
hear  of  as  going  forth  from  the  man.  And 
of  this  sevenfold  incentive  of  sins  Solomon 
gives  the  following  account  in  Proverbs:  "If 
thine  enemy  speak  loud  to  thee,  do  not  agree 
to  him  because  there  are  seven  mischiefs  in 
his  heart;"4  i.e.,  if  the  spirit  of  gluttony  is 
overcome  and  begins  to  flatter  you  with  having 
humiliated  it,  asking  in  a  sort  of  way  that 
you  would  relax  something  of  the  fervour  with 
which  you  began,  and  yield  to  it  something 
beyond  what  the  due  limits  of  abstinence,  and 
measure  of  strict  severity  would  allow,  do  not 
you  be  overcome  by  its  submission,  nor  return 
in  fancied  security  from  its  assaults,  as  you 
seem  to  have  become  for  a  time  freed  from 
carnal  desires,  to  your  previous  state  of  care- 
lessness or  former  liking  for  good  things. 
For  through  this  the  spirit  whom  you  have 
vanquished  is  saying  "I  will  return  to  my 
house  from  whence  I  came  out,"  and  forthwith 
the  seven  spirits  of  sins  which  proceed  from 
it  will  prove  to  you  more  injurious  than  that 
passion  which  in  the  first  instance  you  over- 
came, and  will  presently  drag  you  down  to 
worse  kinds  of  sins. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

How  when  we  have  got  the  better  of  the  passion  of  gluttony 
we  must  take  pains  to  gain  all  the  other  virtues. 

Wherefore  while  we  are  practising  fasting 
and  abstinence,  we  must  be  careful  when  we 
have  got  the  better  of  the  passion  of  gluttony 
never  to  allow  our  mind  to  remain  empty  of 
the  virtues  of  which  we  stand   in  need;   but 


3  S.   Matt.  xii.  43-45- 


d  Prov.  xxvi.  25.  (lxx.). 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    THEODORE. 


351 


we  should  the  more  earnestly  fill  the  inmost 
recesses  of  our  heart  with  them  for  fear  lest 
the  spirit  of  concupiscence  should  return  and 
find  us  empty  and  void  of  them,  and  should 
not  be  content  to  secure  an  entrance  there  for 
himself  alone,  but  should  bring  in  with  him 
into  our  heart  this  sevenfold  incentive  of  sins 
and  make  our  last  state  worse  than  the  first. 
For  the  soul  which  boasts  that  it  has  re- 
nounced this  world  with  the  eight  faults  that 
hold  sway  over  it,  will  afterwards  be  fouler 
and  more  unclean  and  visited  with  severer 
punishments,  than  it  was  when  formerly  it 
was  at  home  in  the  world,  when  it  had  taken 
upon  itself  neither  the  rules  nor  the  name  of 
monk.  For  these  seven  spirits  are  said  to  be 
worse  than  the  first  which  went  forth,  for  this 
reason;  because  the  love  of  good  things,  i.e., 
gluttony  would  not  be  in  itself  harmful,  were 
it  not  that  it  opened  the  door  to  other  pas- 
sions; viz,  to  fornication,  covetousness, 
anger,  dejection,  and  pride,  which  are 
clearly  hurtful  in  themselves  to  the  soul,  and 
domineering  over  it.  And  therefore  a  man 
will  never  be  able  to  gain  perfect  purity,  if  he 
hopes  to  secure  it  by  means  of  abstinence 
alone,  i.e.,  bodily  fasting,  unless  he  knows 
that  he  ought  to  practise  it  for  this  reason 
that  when  the  flesh  is  brought  low  by  means 
of  fasting,  he  may  with  greater  ease  enter  the 
lists  against  other  faults,  as  the  flesh  has  not 
been  habituated  to  gluttony  and  surfeiting. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 


That  our  battles  are  not  fought  with  our  faults  in  the  same 
order  as  that  in  which  they  stand  in  the  list. 


But  you  must  know  that  our  battles  are  not 
all  fought  in  the  same  order,  because,  as  we 
mentioned  that  the  attacks  are  not  always 
made  on  us  in  the  same  way,  each  one  of  us 
ought  also  to  begin  the  battle  with  due  regard 
to  the  character  of  the  attack  which  is  espe- 
cially made  on  him  so  that  one  man  will  have 
to  fight  his  first  battle  against  the  fault  which 
stands  third  on  the  list,  another  against  that 
which  is  fourth  or  fifth.  And  in  proportion 
as  faults  hold  sway  over  us,  and  the  character 
of  their  attack  may  demand,  so  we  too  ought 
to  regulate  the  order  of  our  conflict,  in  such  a 
way  that  the  happy  result  of  a  victory  and 
triumph  succeeding  may  insure  our  attain- 
ment of  purity  of  heart  and  complete  per- 
fection. 

Thus  far  did  Abbot  Serapion  discourse  to  us 
of  the  nature  of  the  eight  principal  faults,  and 
so  clearly  did  he  expound  the  different  sorts 
of  passions  which  are  latent  within  us  —  the 
origin  and  connexion  of  which,  though  we 
were  daily  tormented  by  them,  we  could  never 
before  thoroughly  understand  and  perceive  — 
that  we  seemed  almost  to  see  them  spread  out 
before  our  eyes  as  in  a  mirror. 


VI. 
CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  THEODORE.1 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  THE  SAINTS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Description  of   the  wilderness,  and   the  question   about   the 
death  of  the  saints. 

In  the  district  of  Palestine  near  the  village 
of  Tekoa  which  had  the  honour  of  producing 
the  prophet  Amos,2  there  is  a  vast  desert 
which  stretches  far  and  wide  as  far  as  Arabia 
and  the  dead  sea,  into  which  the  streams  of 
Jordan  enter  and  are  lost,  and  where  are  the 
ashes  of  Sodom.      In  this  district  there  lived 


1  This  Abbot  Theodore  is  probably  the  same  person  as  the  one 
mentioned  in  the  Institutes,  Book  V.  cc.  xxxiii.-xxxv.  ;  but  nothing 
further  is  known  of  him,  and  there  is  no  reason  for  identifying  him 
with  any  of  the  other  monks  of  this  name  of  the  fourth  century. 

2  CI.  Amos  i.  i. 


for  a  long  while  monks  of  the  most  perfect 
life  and  holiness,  who  were  suddenly  de- 
stroyed by  an  incursion  of  Saracen  robbers:3 
whose  bodies  we  knew  were  seized  upon  with 
the  greatest  veneration4  both  by  the  Bishops  of 
the  neighbourhood  and  by  the  whole  populace 


3  Saraceni  (SapaKru'cu) :  a  name  given  by  the  classical  geographers 
to  a  tribe  of  Arabia  Felix,  famous  for  its  predatory  propensities. 
Jerome  speaks  of  the  "  mons  et  desertum  Saracenorum  quod  vocatur 
Pharan  "  (Liber  de  situ  et  nominibus  sub  voce  Choreb)  and  elsewhere 
describes  their  predatory  habits  (Liber  Heb.  Qua^st  in  Genesim) 
"  Saracenos  vagos  .  .  .  qui  universas  gentes  .  .  .  incursant."  By 
the  seventh  century  the  name  had  become  a  merely  general  term 
equivalent  to  Arab,  and  was  accordingly  adopted  and  applied  indiffer- 
ently to  all  the  followers  of  Mohammed  by  the  writers  of  the  middle 
ages  (cf.  the  Dictionary  of  Greek  and  Roman  Geography,  sub 
voce) . 

*  There  is  no  mention  of  these  martyrs  in  the  so-called  Martyro- 
logium  Hieronymianum,  but  they  are  commemorated  on  May  2S,  in 
the  Roman  Martyrology. 


352 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


of  Arabia,  and  deposited  among  the  relics  of 
the  martyrs,  so  that  swarms  of  people  from 
two  towns  met,  and  made  terrible  war  upon 
each  other,  and  in  their  struggle  actually  came 
to  blows  for  the  possession  of  the  holy  spoil, 
while  they  strove  among  themselves  with 
pious  zeal  as  to  which  of  them  had  the  better 
claim  to  bury  them  and  keep  their  relics  ■ —  the 
one  party  boasting  of  their  vicinity  to  the 
place  of  their  abode,  the  other  of  the  fact  that 
they  were  near  the  place  of  their  birth.  But 
we  were  upset  by  this  and  being  disturbed 
either  on  our  own  account  or  on  account  of 
some  of  the  brethren  who  were  in  no  small 
degree  scandalized  at  it,  inquired  why  men  of 
such  illustrious  merits  and  of  so  great  virtues 
should  be  thus  slain  by  robbers,  and  why  the 
Lord  permitted  such  a  crime  to  be  committed 
against  his  servants,  so  as  to  give  up  into  the 
hands  of  wicked  men  those  who  were  the  ad- 
miration of  everybody:  and  so  in  our  grief  we 
came  to  the  holy  Theodore,  a  man  who  ex- 
celled in  practical  common  sense.  For  he 
was  living  in  Cellae,1  a  place  that  lies  between 
Nitria  and  Scete,  and  is  five  miles  distant 
from  the  monasteries  of  Nitria,  and  cut  off  by 
eighty  intervening  miles  of  desert  from  the 
wilderness  of  Scete  where  we  were  living. 
And  when  we  had  made  our  complaint  to  him 
about  the  death  of  the  men  mentioned  above, 
and  expressed  our  surprise  at  the  great 
patience  of  God,  because  He  suffered  men  of 
such  worth  to  be  killed  in  this  way,  so  that 
those  who  ought  to  be  able  by  the  weight  of 
their  sanctity  to  deliver  others  from  trials  of 
this  kind,  could  not  save  themselves  from  the 
hands  of  wicked  men  (and  asked)  why  it  was 
that  God  allowed  so  great  a  crime  to  be  com- 
mitted against  his  servants,  then  the  blessed 
Theodore  replied. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Abbot  Theodore's  answer  to  the  question  proposed  to  him. 

This  question  often  exercises  the  minds  of 
those  who  have  not  much  faith  or  knowledge, 
and  imagine  that  the  prizes  and  rewards  of 
the  saints  (which  are  not  given  in  this  world, 
but  laid  up  for  the  future)  are  bestowed  in  the 


1  Cellae,  which  was,  according  to  the  passage  before  us,  between 
the  deserts  of  Scete  and  Nitria,  apparently  derived  its  name  from 
the  cells  of  the  monks  who  congregated  there.  This  at  least  is  the 
explanation  of  the  name  given  by  Sozomen  (H.  E.  VI.  xxxi.)  who 
speaks  of  a  region  called  xeAAia,  throughout  which  numerous  little 
dwellings  (oi/c7J,<iaTa)  are  dispersed,  whence  it  obtains  its  name. 
Sozomen  also  speaks  (c.  xxix.)  of  Macarius  as  priest  of  Cellae,  a 
fact  which  gives  some  ground  for  conjecturing  that  Cells  may  be 
identified  with  Dair  Abu  Makar,  one  of  the  four  monasteries  still 
existing  in  the  deserts  of  Nitria  and  Scete,  probably  founded  by  the 
saint  whose  name  it  bears  (Macarius).  See  A.  J.  Butler's  "  Coptic 
Churches  of  Egypt,"  vol.  i.  c.  vii. 


short  space  of  this  mortal  life.  But  we  whose 
hope  in  Christ  is  not  only  in  this  life,  for  fear 
lest,  as  the  Apostle  says,  we  should  be  '"of  all 
men  most  miserable  "  2  (because  as  we  receive 
none  of  the  promises  in  this  world  we  should 
for  our  unbelief  lose  them  also  in  that  to 
come)  ought  not  wrongly  to  follow  their  ideas, 
lest  through  ignorance  of  the  true  real  expla- 
nation, we  should  hesitate  and  tremble  and 
fail  in  temptation,  if  we  find  ourselves  given 
up  to  such  men;  and  should  ascribe  to  God 
injustice  or  carelessness  about  the  affairs  of 
mankind  —  a  thing  which  it  is  almost  a  sin 
to  mention  —  because  He  does  not  protect  in 
their  temptations  men  who  are  living  an  up- 
right and  holy  life,  nor  requite  good  men 
with  good  things  and  evil  men  with  evil  things 
in  this  world ;  and  so  we  should  deserve  to  fall 
under  the  condemnation  of  those  whom  the 
prophet  Zephaniah  rebukes,  saying  "who  say 
in  their  hearts  the  Lord  will  not  do  good,  nor 
will  He  do  evil :  "  3  or  at  least  be  found  among 
those  of  whom  we  are  told  that  they  blaspheme 
God  with  such  complaints  as  this :  "  Every  one 
that  doeth  evil  is  good  in  the  sight  of  the 
Lord,  and  such  please  Him:  for  surely  where 
is  the  God  of  judgment  ?  "  4  Adding  further 
that  blasphemy  which  is  described  in  the 
same  way  in  what  follows :  "  He  laboureth  in 
vain  that  serveth  God,  and  what  profit  is  it 
that  we  have  kept  His  ordinances,  and  walked 
sorrowful  before  the  Lord?  Wherefore  now 
we  call  the  proud  happy,  for  they  that  work 
wickedness  are  enriched,  and  they  have 
tempted  God,  and  are  preserved. "  5  Where- 
fore that  we  may  avoid  this  ignorance  which 
is  the  root  and  cause  of  this  most  deadly 
error,  we  ought  in  the  first  place  to  know 
what  is  really  good,  and  what  is  bad,  and  so 
finally  if  we  grasp  the  true  scriptural  meaning 
of  these  words,  and  not  the  false  popular  one, 
we  shall  escape  being  deceived  by  the  errors 
of  unbelievers. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Of  the  three  kinds  of  things  there  are  in  the  world ;  viz..  good 
bad,  and  indifferent. 

Altogether  there  are  three  kinds  of  things 
in  the  world;  viz.,  good,  bad,  and  indifferent. 
And  so  we  ought  to  know  what  is  properly 
good,  and  what  is  bad,  and  what  is  indiffer- 
ent, that  our  faith  may  be  supported  by  true 
knowledge  and  stand  firm  in  all  temptations. 
We  must  then  believe  that  in    things  which 


2  i  Cor.  xv.  19. 

3  Zeph.  i.  12. 


4  Mai.  ii.  17. 
6  Mai.  iii.  14,  15. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   THEODORE. 


353 


are  merely  human  there  is  no  real  good  except 
virtue  of  soul  alone,  which  leads  us  with  un- 
feigned faith  to  things  divine,  and  makes  us 
constantly  adhere  to  that  unchanging  good.  _ 
And  on  the  other  hand  we  ought  not  to  call 
anything  bad,  except  sin  alone,  which  sepa- 
rates us  from  the  good  God,  and  unites  us  to 
the  evil  devil.  But  those  things  are  indiffer- 
ent which  can  be  appropriated  to  either  side 
according  to  the  fancy  or  wish  of  their  owner, 
as  for  instance  riches,  power,  honour,  bodily 
strength,  good  health,  beauty,  life  itself,  and 
death,  poverty,  bodily  infirmities,  injuries, 
and  other  things  of  the  same  sort,  which  can 
contribute  either  to  good  or  to  evil  as  the 
character  and  fancy  of  their  owner  directs. 
For  riches  are  often  serviceable  for  our  good, 
as  the  Apostle  says,  who  charges  "  the  rich  of 
this  world  to  be  ready  to  give,  to  distribute 
to  the  needy,  to  lay  up  in  store  for  themselves 
a  good  foundation  against  the  time  to  come, 
that"  by  this  means  "  they  may  lay  hold  on  the 
true  life."  x  And  according  to  the  gospel  they 
are  a  good  thing  for  those  who  "  make  to  them- 
selves friends  of  the  unrighteous  mammon."2 
And  again,  they  can  be  drawn  in  the  direction 
of  what  is  bad  when  they  are  amassed  only 
for  the  sake  of  hoarding  them  or  for  a  life  of 
luxury,  and  are  not  employed  to  meet  the 
wants  of  the  poor.  And  that  power  also  and 
honour  and  bodily  strength  and  good  health 
are  indifferent  and  available  for  either  (good 
or  bad)  can  easily  be  shown  from  the  fact  that 
many  of  the  Old  Testament  saints  enjoyed 
all  these  things  and  were  in  positions  of  great 
wealth  and  the  highest  honour,  and  blessed 
with  bodily  strength,  and  yet  are  known  to 
have  been  most  acceptable  to  God.  And  on 
the  contrary  those  who  have  wrongfully  abused 
these  things  and  perverted  them  for  their  own 
purposes  are  not  without  good  reason  pun- 
ished or  destroyed,  as  the  Book  of  Kings 
shows  us  has  often  happened.  And  that  even 
life  and  death  are  in  themselves  indifferent 
the  birth  of  S.  John  and  of  Judas  proves. 
For  in  the  case  of  the  one  his  life  was  so 
profitable  to  himself  that  we  are  told  that  his 
birth  brought  joy  to  others  also,  as  we  read 
"  And  many  shall  rejoice  at  his  birth ;  "  3  but  of 
the  life  of  the  other  it  is  said:  "It  were  good 
for  that  man  if  he  had  never  been  born."4 
Further  it  is  said  of  the  death  of  John  and  of 
all  saints  "  Right  dear  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord 
is  the  death  of  His  saints:  "  5  but  of  that  of 
Judas  and  men  like  him  "The  death  of  the 
wicked  is  very  evil. ' '  6     And  how  useful  bodily 


1  i  Tim.  vi.  17-19. 

2  S.  Luke  xvi.  9. 

3  S.  Luke  i.  14. 


4  S.  Matt.  xxvi.  24. 

5  Ps.  cxv.  6  (cxvi.  15). 

6  Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)  32. 


sickness  sometimes  may  be  the  blessing  on 
Lazarus,  the  beggar  who  was  full  of  sores, 
shows  us.  For  Scripture  makes  mention  of 
no  other  good  qualities  or  deserts  of  his,  but 
it  was  for  this  fact  alone;  viz.,  that  he  endured 
want  and  bodily  sickness  with  the  utmost 
patience,  that  he  was  deemed  worthy  of  the 
blessed  lot  of  a  place  in  Abraham's  bosom.7 
And  with  regard  to  want  and  persecution  and 
injuries  which  everybody  thinks  to  be  bad,  how 
useful  and  necessary  they  are  is  clearly  proved 
by  this  fact;  viz.,  that  the  saints  not  only 
never  tried  to  avoid  them,  but  actually  either 
sought  them  with  all  their  powers  or  bravely 
endured  them,  and  thus  became  the  friends  of 
God,  and  obtained  the  reward  of  eternal  life, 
as  the  blessed  Apostle  chants:  "For  which 
cause  I  delight  myself  in  my  infirmities,  in 
reproaches,  in  necessities,  in  persecutions,  in 
distresses  for  Christ.  For  when  I  am  weak, 
then  I  am  strong,  for  power  is  made  perfect  in 
infirmity."8  And  therefore  those  who  are 
exalted  with  the  greatest  riches  and  honours 
and  powers  of  this  world,  should  not  be 
deemed  to  have  secured  their  chief  good  out 
of  them  (for  this  is  shown  to  consist  only  in 
virtue)  but  only  something  indifferent,  because 
just  as  to  good  men  who  use  them  well  and 
properly  they  will  be  found  to  be  useful  and 
convenient  (for  they  afford  them  opportunities 
for  good  works  and  fruits  which  shall  endure 
to  eternal  life),  so  to  those  who  wrongfully 
abuse  their  wealth,  they  are  useless  and  out 
of  place,  and  furnish  occasions  of  sin  and 
death. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

How  evil  cannot  be  forced  on  any  one  by  another  against 
his  will. 

Preserving  then  these  distinctions  clear 
and  fixed,  and  knowing  that  there  is  nothing 
good  except  virtue  alone,  and  nothing  bad 
except  sin  alone  and  separation  from  God,  let 
us  now  carefully  consider  whether  God  ever 
allows  evil  to  be  forced  on  his  saints  either 
by  Himself  or  by  some  one  else.  And  you 
will  certainly  find  that  this  never  happens. 
For  another  can  never  possibly  force  the  evil 
of  sin  upon  anyone,  who  does  not  consent  and 
who  resists,  but  only  on  one  who  admits  it 
into  himself  through  sloth  and  the  corrupt 
desire  of  his  heart.  Finally,  when  the  devil 
having  exhausted  all  his  wicked  devices  had 
tried  to  force  upon  the  blessed  Job  this  evil  of 
sin,  and  had  not  only  stripped  him  of  all  his 
worldly  goods,  but  also  after  that  terrible  and 


7  Cf.  S.  Luke  xvi.  20. 


8  2  Cor.  xii.  9,  10. 


354 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


utterly  unlooked  for  calamity  of  bereavement 
through  the  death  of  his  seven  children,  had 
heaped  upon  him  dreadful  wounds  and  intol- 
erable tortures  from  the  crown  of  his  head  to 
the  sole  of  his  foot,  he  tried  in  vain  to  fasten 
on  him  the  stain  of  sin,  because  he  remained 
steadfast  through  it  all,  never  brought  him- 
self to  consent  to  blasphemy. 


CHAPTER   V. 

An  objection,  how  God  Himself  can  be  said  to  create  evil. 

Germanus  :  We  often  read  in  holy  Scrip- 
ture that  God  has  created  evil  or  brought  it 
upon  men,  as  is  this  passage :  "  There  is  none 
beside  Me.  I  am  the  Lord,  and  there  is  none 
else :  I  form  the  light  and  create  darkness,  I 
make  peace,  and  create  evil."  *  And  again: 
"  Shall  there  be  evil  in  a  city  which  the  Lord 
hath  not  done  ?  "  2 


CHAPTER   VI. 

The  answer  to  the  question  proposed. 

Theodore:  Sometimes  holy  Scripture  is 
wont  by  an  improper  use  of  terms  to  use 
"evils"  for  "affliction;"  not  that  these  are 
properly  and  in  their  nature  evils,  but  because 
they  are  imagined  to  be  evils  by  those  on  whom 
they  are  brought  for  their  good.  For  when 
divine  judgment  is  reasoning  with  men  it 
must  speak  with  the  language  and  feelings  of 
men.  For  when  a  doctor  for  the  sake  of 
health  with  good  reason  either  cute  or  cauter- 
izes those  who  are  suffering  from  the  inflam- 
mation of  ulcers,  it  is  considered  an  evil  by 
those  who  have  to  bear  it.  Nor  are  the  spur 
and  the  whip  pleasant  to  a  restive  horse. 
Moreover  all  chastisement  seems  at  the 
moment  to  be  a  bitter  thing  to  those  who 
are  chastised,  as  the  Apostle  says :  "  Now  all 
chastisement  for  the  present  indeed  seemeth 
not  to  bring  with  it  joy  but  sorrow;  but  after- 
wards it  will  yield  to  them  that  are  exercised 
by  it  most  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness," 
and  "whom  the  Lord  loveth  He  chasteneth, 
and  scourgeth  every  son  whom  He  receiveth : 
for  what  son  is  there  whom  the  father  doth 
not  correct  ?"  3  And  so  evils  are  sometimes 
wont  to  stand  for  afflictions,  as  where  we 
read:  "And  God  repented  of  the  evil  which 
He  had  said  that  He  would  do  to  them  and 


1  Is.  xlv.  6,  7. 


2  Amos  iii.  6. 


3  Heb.  xii.  6-11. 


He  did  it  not."  4  And  again  :  "  For  Thou,  Lord, 
are  gracious  and  merciful,  patient  and  very 
merciful  and  ready  to  repent  of  the  evil,"  5  i.e., 
of  the  sufferings  and  losses  which  Thou  art 
forced  to  bring  upon  us  as  the  reward  of  our 
sins.  And  another  prophet,  knowing  that  these 
are  profitable  to  some  men,  and  certainly  not 
through  any  jealousy  of  their  safety,  but  with 
an  eye  to  their  good,  prays  thus:  "Add  evils 
to  them,  O  Lord,  add  evils  to  the  haughty 
ones  of  the  earth;"6  and  the  Lord  Himself 
says  " Lo,  I  will  bring  evils  upon  them, "  7  i.e., 
sorrows,  and  losses,  with  which  they  shall 
for  the  present  be  chastened  for  their  soul's 
health,  and  so  shall  be  at  length  driven  to 
return  and  hasten  back  to  Me  whom  in  their 
prosperity  they  scorned.  And  so  that  these 
are  originally  evil  we  cannot  possibly  assert: 
for  to  many  they  conduce  to  their  good  and 
offer  the  occasions  of  eternal  bliss,  and 
therefore  (to  return  to  the  question  raised) 
all  those  things,  which  are  thought  to  be 
brought  upon  us  as  evils  by  our  enemies  or 
by  any  other  people,  should  not  be  counted  as 
evils,  but  as  things  indifferent.  For  in  the 
end  they  will  not  be  what  he  thinks,  who 
brought  them  upon  us  in  his  rage  and  fury, 
but  what  he  makes  them  who  endures  them. 
And  so  when  death  has  been  brought  upon  a 
saint,  we  ought  not  to  think  that  an  evil  has 
happened  to  him  but  a  thing  indifferent; 
which  is  an  evil  to  a  wicked  man,  while  to 
the  good  it  is  rest  and  freedom  from  evils. 
"  For  death  is  rest  to  a  man  whose  way  is 
hidden."  8  And  so  a  good  man  does  not  suffer 
any  loss  from  it,  because  he  suffers  nothing 
strange,  but  by  the  crime  of  an  enemy  he 
only  receives  (and  not  without  the  reward  of 
eternal  life)  that  which  would  have  happened 
to  him  in  the  course  of  nature,  and  pays  the 
debt  of  man's  death,  which  must  be  paid  by 
an  inevitable  law,  with  the  interest  of  a  most 
fruitful  passion,  and  the  recompense  of  a 
great  reward. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

A  question  whether  the  man  who  causes  the  death  of  a  good 
man  is  guilt}-,  if  the  good  man  is  the  gainer  by  his  death. 

Germanus:  Well  then,  if  a  good  man  does 
not  only  suffer  no  evil  by  being  killed,  but 
actually  gains  a  reward  from  his  suffering, 
how  can  we  accuse  the  man  who  has  done 
him  no  harm  but  good  by  killing  him? 


*  Jonah  iii.  10  (LXX.). 
0  Joel  ii.  13  (LXX^. 
6  Is.  xxvi.  15  (LXX). 


7  Jer.  xi.  11. 

8  Job  iii.  23  (LXX). 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   THEODORE. 


355 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

The  answer  to  the  foregoing  question. 

Theodore  :  We  are  talking  about  the  actual 
qualities  of  things  good  and  bad,  and  what 
we  call  indifferent;  and  not  about  the  charac- 
ters of  the  men  who  do  these  things.  Nor 
ought  any  bad  or  wicked  man  to  go  unpun- 
ished because  his  evil  deed  was  not  able  to 
do  harm  to  a  good  man.  For  the  endurance 
and  goodness  of  a  righteous  man  are  of  no 
profit  to  the  man  who  is  the  cause  of  his 
death  or  suffering,  but  only  to  him  who 
patiently  endures  what  is  inflicted  on  him. 
And  so  the  one  is  justly  punished  for  his 
savage  cruelty,  because  he  meant  to  injure 
him,  while  the  other  nevertheless  suffers  no 
evil,  because  in  the  goodness  of  his  heart  he 
patiently  endures  his  temptation  and  suffer- 
ings, and  so  causes  all  those  things,  which 
were  inflicted  upon  him  with  evil  intent,  to 
turn  out  to  his  advantage,  and  to  conduce  to 
the  bliss  of  eternal  life. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

The  case  of  Job  who  was  tempted  by  the  devil;  and  of  the 
Lord  who  was  betrayed  by  Judas:  and  how  prosperity  as 
well  as  adversity  is  advantageous  to  a  good  man. 

For  the  patience  of  Job  did  not  bring  any 
gain  to  the  devil,  through  making  him  a 
better  man  by  his  temptations,  but  only  to 
Job  himself  who  endured  them  bravely;  nor 
was  Judas  granted  freedom  from  eternal 
punishment,  because  his  act  of  betrayal  con- 
tributed to  the  salvation  of  mankind.  For 
we  must  not  regard  the  result  of  the  deed, 
but  the  purpose  of  the  doer.  Wherefore  we 
should  always  cling  to  this  assertion;  viz., 
that  evil  cannot  be  brought  upon  a  man  by 
another,  unless  a  man  has  admitted  it  by  his 
sloth  or  feebleness  of  heart:  as  the  blessed 
Apostle  confirms  this  opinion  of  ours  in  a 
verse  of  Scripture :  "  But  we  know  that  all 
things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that 
love  God."1  But  by  saying  "  All  things  work 
together  for  good,"  he  includes  everything 
alike,  not  only  things  fortunate,  but  also 
those  which  seem  to  be  misfortunes :  through 
which  the  Apostle  tells  us  in  another  place 
that  he  himself  has  passed,  when  he  says : 
"  By  the  armour  of  righteousness  on  the  right 
hand  and  on  the  left,"  i.e.,  "Through  honour 
and  dishonour,  through  evil  report  and  good 


1  Rom.  viii.  28. 


report,  as  deceivers  and  yet  true,  as  sorrowful 
but  always  rejoicing,  as  needy  and  yet  enrich- 
ing many:"2  All  those  things  then  which 
are  considered  fortunate,  and  are  called 
those  "on  the  right  hand,"  which  the  holy 
Apostle  designates  by  the  terms  honour  and 
good  report;  and  those  too  which  are  counted 
misfortunes,  which  he  clearly  means  by  dis- 
honour and  evil  report,  and  which  he  de- 
scribes as  ''on  the  left  hand,"  become  to  the 
perfect  man  "the  armour  of  righteousness,"  if 
when  they  are  brought  upon  him,  he  bears 
them  bravely,  because,  as  he  fights  with 
these,  and  uses  those  very  weapons  with 
which  he  seems  to  be  attacked,  and  is  pro- 
tected by  them  as  by  bow  and  sword  and 
stout  shield  against  those  who  bring  these 
things  upon  him,  he  secures  the  advantage 
of  his  patience  and  goodness,  and  obtains  a 
grand  triumph  of  steadfastness  by  means  of 
those  very  weapons  of  his  enemies  which  are 
hurled  against  him  to  kill  him ;  and  if  only 
he  is  not  elated  by  success  or  cast  down  by 
failure,  but  ever  marches  straightforward  on 
the  king's  highway,  and  does  not  swerve  from 
that  state  of  tranquillity  as  it  were  to  the 
right  hand,  when  joy  overcomes  him,  nor  let 
himself  be  driven  so  to  speak  to  the  left  hand, 
when  misfortunes  overwhelm  him,  and  sor- 
row holds  sway.  For  "  Much  peace  have  they 
that  love  Thy  law,  and  to  them  there  is  no 
stumbling  block."3  But  of  those  who  shift 
about  according  .to  the  character  and  changes 
of  the  several  chances  which  happen  to  them, 
we  read:  "But  a  fool  will  change  like  the 
moon."4  For  just  as  it  is  said  of  men  who 
are  perfect  and  wise :  "  To  them  that  love  God 
all  things  work  together  for  good,"5  so  of 
those  who  are  weak  and  foolish  it  is  declared 
that  "everything  is  against  a  foolish  man," 6 
for  he  gets  no  profit  out  of  prosperity,  nor 
does  adversity  make  him  any  better.  For  it 
requires  as  much  goodness  to  bear  sorrows 
bravely,  as  to  be  moderate  in  prosperity:  and 
it  is  quite  certain  that  one  who  fails  in  one  of 
these,  will  not  bear  up  under  the  other.  But 
a  man  can  be  more  easily  overcome  by  pros- 
perity than  by  misfortunes :  for  these  some- 
times restrain  men  against  their  will  and 
make  them  humble  and  through  most  salutary 
sorrow  cause  them  to  sin  less,  and  make  them 
better:  while  prosperity  puffs  up  the  mind 
with  soothing  but  most  pernicious  flatteries 
and  when  men  are  secure  in  the  prospect  of 
their  happiness  dashes  them  to  the  ground 
with  a  still  greater  destruction. 


-  2  Cor.  vi.  7-10. 

3  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  165. 

i  Ecclus.  xxvii.    11. 


5  Rom.  viii.  28. 

e  Prov.  xiv.  7  (LXX.). 


356 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Of  the  excellence  of  the  perfect  man  who  is  figuratively 
spoken  of  as  ambidextrous. 

Those  are  they  then  who  are  figurately 
spoken  of  in  holy  Scripture  as  d/jqioTsgodiHioi', 
i.e.,  ambidextrous,  as  Ehud  is  described  in 
the  book  of  Judges  "who  used  either  hand  as 
the  right1  hand."  And  this  power  we  also 
can  spiritually  acquire,  if  by  making  a  right 
and  proper  use  of  those  things  which  are  for- 
tunate, and  which  seem  to  be  "on  the  right 
hand,"  as  well  as  of  those  which  are  unfortu- 
nate and  as  we  call  it  "on  the  left  hand,"  we 
make  them  both  belong  to  the  right  side,  so 
that  whatever  turns  up  proves  in  our  case,  to 
use  the  words  of  the  Apostle,  "  the  armour  of 
righteousness."  For  we  see  that  the  inner 
man  consists  of  two  parts,  and  if  I  may  be 
allowed  the  expression,  two  hands,  nor  can 
any  of  the  saints  do  without  that  which  we 
call  the  left  hand:  but  by  means  of  it  the  per- 
fection of  virtue  is  shown,  where  a  man  by 
skilful  use  can  turn  both  hands  into  right 
hands.  And  in  order  to  make  our  meaning 
clearer,  the  saint  has  for  his  right  hand  his 
spiritual  achievements,  in  which  he  is  found 
when  with  fervent  spirit  he  gets  the  better  of 
his  desires  and  passions,  when  he  is  free  from 
all  attacks  of  the  devil,  and  without  any  effort 
or  difficulty  rejects  and  cuts  off  all  carnal  sins, 
when  he  is  exalted  above  the  earth  and  regards 
all  things  present  and  earthly  as  light  smoke 
or  vain  shadows,  and  scorns  them  as  what  is 
about  to  vanish  away,  when  with  an  overflow- 
ing heart  he  not  only  longs  most  intensely 
for  the  future  but  actually  sees  it  the  more 
clearly,  when  he  is  more  effectually  fed  on 
spiritual  contemplations,  when  he  sees  hea- 
venly mysteries  more  brightly  laid  open  to 
him,  when  he  pours  forth  his  prayers  to  God 
with  greater  purity  and  readiness,  when  he  is 
so  inflamed  with  fervour  of  spirit  as  to  pass 
with  the  utmost  readiness  of  soul  to  things 
invisible  and  eternal,  so  as  scarcely  to  believe 
that  he  any  longer  remains  in  the  flesh.  He 
has  also  a  left  hand,  when  he  is  entangled  in 
the  toils  of  temptation,  when  he  is  inflamed 
with  the  heat  of  desire  for  carnal  lusts,  when 
he  is  set  on  fire  by  emotion  towards  rage  and 
anger,  when  he  is  overcome  by  being  puffed 
up  with  pride  or  vainglory,  when  he  is  op- 
pressed by  a  sorrow  that  worketh  death,  when 
he  is  shaken  to  pieces  by  the  contrivances  and 
attacks  of  accidie,  and  when  he  has  lost  all 
spiritual  warmth,  and  grows  indifferent  with 
a  sort  of  lukewarmness  and  unreasonable  grief 


1  Judg.  iii.  15,  where  the  LXX.  has  aix<f>oTepoSi^iov. 


so  that  not  only  is  he  forsaken  by  good  and 
kindling  thoughts,  but  acually  Psalms,  prayer, 
reading,  and  retirement  in  his  cell  all  pall 
upon  him,  and  all  virtuous  exercises  seem  by 
an  intolerable  and  horrible  loathing  to  have 
lost  their  savour.  And  when  a  monk  is 
troubled  in  this  way,  then  he  knows  that  he 
is  attacked  "  on  the  left  hand. ' '  Anyone  there- 
fore who  is  not  at  all  puffed  up  through  the 
aid  of  vainglory  by  any  of  those  things  on 
the  right  hand  which  we  have  mentioned,  and 
who  struggles  manfully  against  those  on  the 
left  hand,  and  does  not  yield  to  despair  and 
give  in,  but  rather  on  the  other  hand  seizes 
the  armour  of  patience  to  practise  himself  in 
virtue  —  this  man  can  use  both  hands  as  right 
hands,  and  in  each  action  he  proves  trium- 
phant and  carries  off  the  prize  of  victory  from 
that  condition  on  the  left  hand  as  well  as  that 
on  the  right.  Such,  we  read,  was  the  reward 
which  the  blessed  Job  obtained  who  was  cer- 
tainly crowned  (for  a  victory)  on  the  right 
hand,  when  he  was  the  father  of  seven  sons 
and  walked  as  a  rich  and  wealthy  man,  and 
yet  offered  daily  sacrifices  to  the  Lord  for  their 
purification,  in  his  anxiety  that  they  might 
prove  acceptable  and  dear  to  God  rather  than 
to  himself,  when  his  gates  stood  open  to  every 
stranger,  when  he  was  "  feet  to  lame  and  eyes 
to  blind,"2  when  the  shoulders  of  the  suffer- 
ing were  kept  warm  by  the  wool  of  his  sheep, 
when  he  was  a  father  to  orphans  and  a  husband 
to  widows,  when  he  did  not  even  in  his  heart 
rejoice  at  the  fall  of  his  enemy.  And  again 
it  was  the  same  man  who  with  still  greater 
virtue  triumphed  over  adversity  on  the  left 
hand,  when  deprived  in  one  moment  of  his 
seven  sons  he  was  not  as  a  father  overcome 
with  bitter  grief  but  as  a  true  servant  of  God 
rejoiced  in  the  will  of  his  Creator.  When 
instead  of  being  a  wealthy  man  he  became 
poor,  naked  instead  of  rich,  pining  away 
instead  of  strong,  despised  and  contemptible 
instead  of  famous  and  honourable,  and  yet 
preserved  his  fortitude  of  mind  unshaken, 
when,  lastly,  bereft  of  all  his  wealth  and  sub- 
stance he  took  up  his  abode  on  the  dunghill, 
and  like  some  stern  executioner  of  his  own 
body  scraped  with  a  potsherd  the  matter  that 
broke  out,  and  plunging  his  fingers  deep  into 
his  wounds  dragged  out  on  every  side  masses 
of  worms  from  his  limbs.  And  in  all  this  he 
never  fell  into  despair  and  blasphemy,  nor 
murmured  at  all  against  his  Creator.  More- 
over also  so  little  was  he  overcome  by  such  a 
weight  of  bitter  temptations  that  the  cloak 
which  out  of  all  his  former  property  remained 
to  cover  his  body,  and  which  alone  could  be 

2  Job  xxix.  15. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   THEODORE. 


357 


saved  from  destruction  by  the  devil  because 
he  was  clothed  with  it,  he  rent  and  cast  off, 
and  covered  with  it  his  nakedness  which  he 
voluntarily  endured,  which  the  terrible  robber 
had  brought  upon  him.  The  hair  of  his  head 
too,  which  was  the  only  thing  left  untouched 
out  of  all  the  remains  of  his  former  glory,  he 
shaved  and  cast  to  his  tormentor,  and  cutting 
off  even  that  which  his  savage  foe  had  left  to 
him  he  exulted  over  him  and  mocked  him 
with  that  celestial  cry  of  his:  "If  we  have 
received  good  at  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  should 
we  not  also  receive  evil  ?  Naked  came  I  out 
of  my  mother's  womb,  and  naked  shall  I 
return  thither.  The  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord 
hath  taken  away ;  as  it  hath  pleased  the  Lord, 
so  is  it  done;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord."  l  I  should  also  with  good  reason  call 
Joseph  ambidextrous,  as  in  prosperity  he  was 
very  dear  to  his  father,  affectionate  to  his 
brethren,  acceptable  to  God;  and  in  adversity 
was  chaste,  and  faithful  to  the  Lord,  in  prison 
most  kind  to  the  prisoners,  forgetful  of  wrongs, 
generous  to  his  enemies;  and  to  his  brethren 
who  were  envious  of  him  and  as  far  as  lay  in 
their  powers,  his  murderers,  he  proved  not 
only  affectionate  but  actually  munificent. 
These  men  then  and  those  who  are  like  them 
are  rightly  termed  uucporeQodi^iov^  L  e. ,  ambidex- 
trous. For  they  can  use  either  hand  as  the 
right  hand,  and  passing  through  those  things 
which  the  Apostle  enumerates  can  fairly  say: 
"  Through  the  armour  of  righteousness  on  the 
right  hand  and  on  the  left,  through  honour  and 
dishonour,  through  evil  report  and  good  report 
etc. "  And  of  this  right  and  left  hand  Solomon 
speaks  as  follows  in  the  Song  of  songs,  in  the 
person  of  the  bride :  "  His  left  hand  is  under 
my  head,  and  his  right  hand  shall  embrace 
me."  2  And  while  this  passage  shows  that 
both  are  useful,  yet  it  puts  one  under  the 
head,  because  misfortunes  ought  to  be  subject 
to  the  control  of  the  heart,  since  they  are  only 
useful  for  this;  viz.,  to  train  us  for  a  time 
and  discipline  us  for  our  salvation  and  make 
us  perfect  in  the  matter  of  patience.  But  the 
right  hand  she  hopes  will  ever  cling  to  her  to 
cherish  her  and  hold  her  fast  in  the  blessed 
embrace  of  the  Bridegroom,  and  unite  her  to 
him  indissolubly.  We  shall  then  be  ambi- 
dextrous, when  neither  abundance  nor  want 
affects  us,  and  when  the  former  does  not  entice 
us  to  the  luxury  of  a  dangerous  carelessness, 
while  the  latter  does  not  draw  us  to  despair, 
and  complaining ;  but  when,  giving  thanks  to 
God  in  either  case  alike,  we  gain  one  and  the 
same  advantage  out  of  good  and  bad  fortune. 
And  such   that  truly  ambidextrous  man,   the 


Job  ii. 


2  Cant.  ii.  6. 


teacher  of  the  Gentiles,  testifies  that  he  him- 
self was,  when  he  says :  "  For  I  have  learnt  in 
whatsoever  state  I  am,  to  be  content  therewith. 
I  know  both  how  to  be  brought  low  and  I 
know  how  to  abound :  everywhere  and  in  all 
things  I  am  instructed  both  to  be  full  and  to 
be  hungry,  both  to  abound  and  to  suffer  need. 
I  can  do  all  things  in  Him  which  strength- 
ened me."3 

CHAPTER   XI. 

Of  the  two  kinds  of  trials,  which  come  upon  us  in  a  three- 
fold way. 

Well  then,  though  we  say  that  trial  is 
twofold,  i.e.,  in  prosperity  and  in  adversity, 
yet  you  must  know  that  all  men  are  tried  in 
three  different  ways.  Often  for  their  proba- 
tion, sometimes  for  their  improvement,  and 
in  some  cases  because  their  sins  deserve  it. 
For  their  probation  indeed,  as  we  read  that 
the  blessed  Abraham  and  Job  and  many  of 
the  saints  endured  countless  tribulations;  or 
this  which  is  said  to  the  people  in  Deutero- 
nomy by  Moses :  "  And  thou  shalt  remember  all 
the  way  through  which  the  Lord  thy  God  hath 
brought  thee  for  forty  years  through  the  desert, 
to  afflict  thee  and  to  prove  thee,  and  that  the 
things  that  were  in  thy  heart  might  be  made 
known,  whether  thou  wouldst  keep  His  Com- 
mandments or  no  :  "  4  and  this  which  we  find  in 
the  Psalms :  "  I  proved  thee  at  the  waters  of 
strife."5  To  Job  also:  "Thinkest  thou  that 
I  have  spoken  for  any  other  cause  than  that 
thou  mightest  be  seen  to  be  righteous  ? "  6  But 
for  improvement,  when  God  chastens  his 
righteous  ones  for  some  small  and  venial  sins, 
or  to  raise  them  to  a  higher  state  of  purity, 
and  delivers  them  over  to  various  trials,  that 
He  may  purge  away  all  their  unclean  thoughts, 
and,  to  use  the  prophet's  word,  the  "dross," 
which  he  sees  to  have  collected  in  their  secret 
parts,  and  may  thus  transmit  them  like  pure 
gold,  to  the  judgment  to  come,  as  He  allows 
nothing  to  remain  in  them  for  the  fire  of  judg- 
ment to  discover  when  hereafter  it  searches 
them  with  penal  torments  according  to  this 
saying :  "  Many  are  the  tribulations  of  the 
righteous."7  And:  "My  son,  neglect  not  the 
discipline  of  the  Lord,  neither  be  thou  wearied 
whilst  thou  art  rebuked  by  Him.  For  whom 
the  Lord  loveth  He  chastiseth,  and  scourgeth 
every  son  whom  He  receiveth.  For  what  son 
is  there  whom  the  father  doth  not  correct? 
But  if  ye  are  without  chastisement,  whereof 
all   are  partakers,  then  are  ye   bastards,   and 


3  Phil.  iv.  1 1— 13. 

4  Deut.  viii.  2. 

5  Ps.  lxxx.  (lxxxi.)  7. 


6  Job  xl.  3  (LXX.). 

7  Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)  19. 


358 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


not  sons."1  And  in  the  Apocalypse:  "Those 
whom  I  love,  I  reprove  and  chasten."-  To 
whom  under  the  figure  of  Jerusalem  the  follow- 
ing words  are  spoken  by  Jeremiah,  in  the  per- 
son of  God:  "For  I  will  utterly  consume  all 
the  nations  among  which  I  scattered  thee :  but 
I  will  not  utterly  consume  thee:  but  I  will 
chastise  thee  in  judgment,  that  thou  may- 
est  not  seem  to  thyself  innocent."3  And 
for  this  life-giving  cleansing  David  prays 
when  he  says:  "  Prove  me,  O  Lord,  and  try 
me;  turn  my  reins  and  my  heart."4  Isaiah 
also,  well  knowing  the  value  of  this  trial, 
says  "O  Lord,  correct  us  but  with  judgment: 
not  in  Thine  anger."  5  And  again:  "  I  will  give 
thanks  to  thee,  O  Lord,  for  thou  wast  angry 
with  me :  Thy  wrath  is  turned  away,  and  Thou 
hast  comforted  me."6  But  as  a  punishment 
for  sins,  the  blows  of  trial  are  inflicted,  as 
where  the  Lord  threatens  that  He  will  send 
plagues  upon  the  people  of  Israel:  "I  will 
send  the  teeth  of  beasts  upon  them,  with  the 
fury  tof  creatures  that  trail  upon  the  ground :  "  7 
and  "  In  vain  have  I  struck  your  children : 
they  have  not  received  correction. "  8  In  the 
Psalms  also :  "  Many  are  the  scourges  of  the 
sinners  :  "  9  and  in  the  gospel :  "  Behold  thou 
art  made  whole  :  now  sin  no  more,  lest  a  worse 
thing  happen  unto  thee."  10  We  find,  it  is 
true,  a  fourth  way  also  in  which  we  know  on 
the  authority  of  Scripture  that  some  sufferings 
are  brought  upon  us  simply  for  the  manifes- 
tation of  the  glory  of  God  and  His  works, 
according  to  these  words  of  the  gospel : 
"  Neither  did  this  man  sin  nor  his  parents,  but 
that  the  works  of  God  might  be  manifested  in 
him :  "  u  and  again :  "  This  sickness  is  not  unto 
death,  but  for  the  glory  of  God  that  the  Son  of 
God  may  be  glorified  by  it."  12  There  are  also 
other  sorts  of  vengeance,  with  which  some 
who  have  overpassed  the  bounds  of  wicked- 
ness are  smitten  in  this  life,  as  we  read  that 
Dathan  and  Abiram  or  Korah  were  punished, 
or  above  all,  those  of  whom  the  Apostle 
speaks :  "  Wherefore  God  gave  them  up  to  vile 
passions  and  a  reprobate  mind:"13  and  this 
must  be  counted  worse  than  all  other  punish- 
ments. For  of  these  the  Psalmist  says :  "  They 
are  not  in  the  labours  of  men;  neither  shall 
they  be  scourged  like  other  men."  14     For  they 


I  Heb.  xii.  5-S. 
-  Rev.  iii.  19. 

3  Jer.  xxx.  1  r. 

*  Ps.  xxv.  (xxvi.)  2. 

6  The  passage  is  not  from  Isaiah,  but  from  Jer.  x.  24. 
G  Is.  xii.  1. 

7  Deut.  xxxii.  24. 

8  Jer.  ii.  30. 

9  Ps.  xxxi.  (xxxii.)  10. 

10  S.  John  v.  14. 

II  S.  John  ix.  3. 
12  S.  John  xi.  4. 
J3  Rom.  i.  26,  28. 

J*  Ps.  lxxii.  (lxxiii.)  5. 


are  not  worthy  of  being  healed  by  the  visita- 
tion of  the  Lord  which  gives  life,  and  by 
plagues  in  this  world,  as  "  in  despair  they  have 
given  themselves  over  to  lasciviousness,  unto 
the  working  of  all  error  unto  uncleanness,"  15 
and  as  by  hardening  their  hearts,  and  by 
growing  accustomed  and  used  to  sin  they  have 
got  beyond  cleansing  in  this  brief  life  and 
punishment  in  the  present  world :  men,  who 
are  thus  reproved  by  the  holy  word  of  the 
prophet :  "  I  destroyed  some  of  you,  as  God 
destroyed  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  and  you 
were  as  a  firebrand  plucked  out  of  the  burn- 
ing: yet  you  returned  not  to  Ale,  saith  the 
Lord,"16  and  Jeremiah:  "I  have  killed  and 
destroyed  thy  people,  and  yet  they  are  not 
returned  from  their  ways."17  And  again: 
"Thou  hast  smitten  them  and  they  have  not 
grieved:  Thou  hast  bruised  them  and  they 
refused  to  receive  correction:  they  have  made 
their  faces  harder  than  the  rock,  they  have 
refused  to  return."  18  And  the  prophet  seeing 
that  all  the  remedies  of  this  life  will  have 
been  applied  in  vain  for  their  healing,  and 
already  as  it  were  despairing  of  their  life, 
declares:  "The  bellows  have  failed  in  the. fire, 
the  founder  hath  melted  in  vain :  for  their 
wicked  deeds  are  not  consumed.  Call  them 
reprobate  silver,  for  the  Lord  hath  rejected 
them."19  And  the  Lord  thus  laments  that  to 
no  purpose  has  He  applied  this  salutary 
cleansing  by  fire  to  those  who  are  hardened 
in  their  sins,  in  the  person  of  Jerusalem 
crusted  all  over  with  the  rust  of  her  sins, 
when  He  says:  "set  it  empty  upon  burning 
coals,  that  it  may  be  hot,  and  the  brass  thereof 
may  be  melted;  and  let  the  filth  of  it  be 
melted  in  the  midst  thereof.  Great  pains 
have  been  taken,  and  the  great  rust  thereof 
is  not  gone  out,  no  not  even  by  fire.  Thy  un- 
cleanness is  execrable:  because  I  desired  to 
cleanse  thee,  and  thou  art  not  cleansed  from 
thy  filthiness. " 2J  Wherefore  like  a  skilful 
physician,  who  has  tried  all  saving  cures,  and 
sees  there  is  no  remedy  left  which  can  be 
applied  to  their  disease,  the  Lord  is  in  a 
manner  overcome  by  their  iniquities  and  is 
obliged  to  desist  from  that  kindly  chastise- 
ment of  His,  and  so  denounces  them  saying: 
"  I  will  no  longer  be  angry  with  thee,  and  thy 
jealousy  has  departed*  from  thee.""-1  But  of 
others,  whose  heart  has  not  grown  hard  by 
continuance  in  sin,  and  who  do  not  stand  in 
need  of  that  most  severe  and  (if  I  may  so  call 
it)  caustic  remedy,  but  for  whose  salvation 
the  instruction  of  the  life-giving  word  is  suffi- 


15  Eph.  iv.  k 
10  Amos  iv.  i 

17  Jer.  xv.  7. 

18  Jer.  v.  3. 


lu  Jer.  vi.  29,  30. 
-°  Ezek.  xxiv.  11 
21  Ezek.  xvi.  42. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   THEODORE. 


359 


cient — -of  them  it  is  said:  "I  will  improve 
them  by  hearing  of  their  suffering."1  We 
are  well  aware  that  there  are  other  reasons 
also  of  the  punishment  and  vengeance  which 
is  inflicted  on  those  who  have  sinned  grie- 
vously — 'not  to  expiate  their  crimes,  nor  wipe 
out  the  deserts  of  their  sins,  but  that  the  li- 
ving may  be  put  in  fear  and  amend  their  lives. 
And  these  we  plainly  see  were  inflicted  on 
Jeroboam  the  son  of  Nebat,  and  Baasha  the 
son  of  Ahiah,  and  Ahab  and  Jezebel,  when  the 
Divine  reproof  thus  declares:  "Behold,  I  will 
bring  evil  upon  thee,  and  will  cut  down  thy 
posterity,  and  will  kill  of  Ahab  every  male, 
and  him  that  is  shut  up  and  the  last  in  Israel. 
And  I  will  make  thy  house  like  the  house  of 
Jeroboam  the  son  of  Nebat  and  like  the 
house  of  Baasha  the  son  of  Ahiah :  for  that 
which  thou  hast  done  to  provoke  Me  to  anger, 
and  for  making  Israel  to  sin.  The  dogs  also 
shall  eat  Jezebel  in  the  field  of  Jezreel.  If 
Ahab  die  in  the  city,  the  dogs  shall  eat  him: 
but  if  he  die  in  the  field  the  birds  of  the  air 
shall  eat  him,"2  and  this  which  is  threatened 
as  the  greatest  threat  of  all:  "Thy  dead  body 
shall  not  be  brought  to  the  sepulchre  of  thy 
fathers."3  It  was  not  that  this  short  and 
momentary  punishment  would  suffice  to  purge 
away  the  blasphemous  inventions  of  him  who 
first  made  the  golden  calves  and  led  to  the 
lasting  sin  of  the  people,  and  their  wicked 
separation  from  the  Lord,  —  or  the  countless 
and  disgraceful  profanities  of  those  others, 
but  it  was  that  by  their  example  the  fear  of 
those  punishments  which  they  dreaded  might 
fall  on  others  also,  who,  as  they  thought  little 
of  the  future  or  even  disbelieved  in  it  alto- 
gether, would  only  be  moved  by  consideration 
of  things  present;  and  that  owing  to  this 
proof  of  His  severity  they  might  acknowledge 
that  there  is  no  lack  of  care  for  the  affairs  of 
men,  and  for  their  daily  doings,  in  the  majesty 
of  God  on  high,  and  so  through  that  which 
they  greatly  feared  might  the  more  clearly  see 
in  God  the  rewarder  of  all  their  deeds.  We 
find,  it  is  true,  that  even  for  lighter  faults 
some  men  have  received  the  same  sentence  of 
death  in  this  world,  as  that  with  which  those 
men  were  punished  who,  as  we  said  before, 
were  the  authors  of  a  blasphemous  falling 
away:  as  happened  in  the  case  of  the  man  who 
gathered  sticks  on  the  Sabbath,4  and  in  that 
of  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  who  through  the 
sin  of  unbelief  kept  back  some  portion  of 
their  goods:  not  that  the  guilt  of  their  sins 
was  equal,  but  because  they  were  the  first 
found  out  in  a  new  kind  of  transgression,  and 


1  Hos.  vii.  12  (LXX.). 
1  i  Kings  xxi.  21-24. 


s  1  Kings  xiii.  22. 
4  Cf.  Numb.  xv.  32. 


so  it  was  right  that  as  they  had  given  to  others 
an  example  of  sin,  so  also  they  should  give 
them  an  example  of  punishment  and  of  fear, 
that  anyone,  who  should  attempt  to  copy  them, 
might  know  that  (even  if  his  punishment  were 
postponed  in  this  life)  he  would  be  punished 
in  the  same  way  that  they  were  at  the  trial 
of  the  judgment  hereafter.  And,  since  in  our 
desire  to  run  through  the  different  kinds  of 
trials  and  punishments  we  seem  to  have 
wandered  somewhat  from  our  subject,  on 
which  we  were  saying  that  the  perfect  man  will 
always  remain  steadfast  in  either  kind  of 
trial,  now  let  us  return  to  it  once  more. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

How  the  upright  man  ought  to  be  like  a  stamp  not  of  wax  but 
of  hard  steel. 

And  so  the  mind  of  the  upright  man  ought 
not  to  be  like  wax  or  any  other  soft  material 
which  always  yields  to  the  shape  of  what 
presses  on  it,  and  is  stamped  with  its  form 
and  impress  and  keeps  it  until  it  takes  an- 
other shape  by  having  another  seal  stamped 
upon  it ;  and  so  it  results  that  it  never  retains 
its  own  form  but  is  turned  and  twisted  about 
to  correspond  to  whatever  is  pressed  upon  it. 
But  he  should  rather  be  like  some  stamp  of 
hard  steel,  that  the  mind  may  always  keep  its 
proper  form  and  shape  inviolate,  and  may 
stamp  and  imprint  on  everything  which  occurs 
to  it  the  marks  of  its  own  condition,  while 
upon  it  itself  nothing  that  happens  can  leave 
any  mark. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

A  question  whether  the  mind  can  constantly  continue  in  one 
and  the  same  condition. 

Germanus  :  But  can  our  mind  constantly 
preserve  its  condition  unaltered,  and  always 
continue  in  the  same  state? 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

The  answer  to  the  point  raised  by  the  questioner. 

Theodore:  It  is  needful  that  one  must 
either,  as  the  Apostle  says,  "be  renewed  in 
the  spirit  of  the  mind,"5  and  daily  advance 
by  "  pressing  forward  to  those  things  which  are 
before,"6  or,  if  one  neglects  to  do  this,  the 
sure  result  will  be  to  go  back,   and   become 


5  Eph.  iv.  23. 


0  Phil.  iii.  13. 


:6o 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


worse  and  worse.  And  therefore  the  mind 
cannot  possibly  remain  in  one  and  the  same 
state.  Just  as  when  a  man,  by  pulling  hard, 
is  trying  to  force  a  boat  against  the  stream  of 
a  strong  current  he  must  either  stem  the  rush 
of  the  torrent  by  the  force  of  his  arms,  and 
so  mount  to  what  is  higher  up,  or  letting 
his  hands  slacken  be  whirled  headlong  down 
stream.  Wherefore  it  will  be  a  clear  proof  of 
our  failure  if  we  find  that  we  have  gained 
nothing  more,  nor  should  we  doubt  but  that 
we  have  altogether  gone  back,  whenever  we 
find  that  we  have  not  advanced  upwards, 
because,  as  I  said,  the  mind  of  man  cannot 
possibly  continue  in  the  same  condition,  nor 
so  long  as  he  is  in  the  flesh  will  any  of  the 
saints  ever  reach  the  height  of  all  virtues,  so 
that  they  continue  unalterable.  For  some- 
thing must  either  be  added  to  them  or  taken 
away  from  them,  and  in  no  creature  can  there 
be  such  perfection,  as  not  to  be  subject  to 
the  feeling  of  change;  as  we  read  in  the  book 
of  Job :  "  What  is  man  that  he  should  be  with- 
out spot,  and  he  that  is  born  of  a  woman  that 
he  should  appear  just?  Behold  among  His 
saints  none  is  unchangeable,  and  the  heavens 
are  not  pure  in  His  sight."  x  For  we  confess 
that  God  only  is  unchangeable,  who  alone  is 
thus  addressed  by  the  prayer  of  the  holy 
prophet  "  But  Thou  art  the  same,"  2  and  who 
says  of  Himself  "I  am  God,  and  I  change 
not,"3  because  He  alone  is  by  nature  always 
good,  always  full  and  perfect,  and  one  to 
whom  nothing  can  ever  be  added,  or  from 
whom  nothing  can  be  taken  away.  And  so 
we  ought  always  with  incessant  care  and 
anxiety  to  give  ourselves  up  to  the  acquire- 
ment of  virtue,  and  constantly  to  occupy  our- 
selves with  the  practice  of  it,  lest,  if  we  cease 
to  go  forward,  the  result  should  immediately 
be  a  going  back.  For,  as  we  said,  the  mind 
cannot  continue  in  one  and  the  same  condi- 
tion, I  mean  without  receiving  addition  to  or 
diminution  of  its  good  qualities.  For  to  fail  to 
gain  new  ones,  is  to  lose  them,  because  when 
the  desire  of  making  progress  ceases,  there  the 
danger  of  going  back  is  present. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

How  one  loses  by  going  away  from  one's  cell. 

And  so  we  ought  always  to  remain  shut  up 
in  our  cell.  For  whenever  a  man  has  strayed 
from  it  and  returns  fresh  to  it  and  begins 
again  to  live  there  he  will  be  upset  and  dis- 


turbed. For  if  he  has  let  it  go  he  cannot 
without  difficulty  and  pains  recover  that  fixed 
purpose  of  mind,  which  he  had  gained  when 
he  remained  in  his  cell ;  and  as  through  this 
he  has  gone  back,  he  will  not  think  anything 
of  the  advance  which  he  has  missed,  and  which 
he  would  have  secured  if  he  had  not  allowed 
himself  to  leave  his  cell,  but  he  will  rather 
congratulate  himself  if  he  finds  that  he  has 
regained  that  condition  from  which  he  fell 
away.  For  just  as  time  once  lost  and  gone 
cannot  any  more  be  recovered,  so  neither  can 
those  advantages  which  have  been  missed  be 
restored :  for  whatever  earnest  purpose  of  the 
mind  there  may  be  afterwards,  it  will  be  the 
profit  of  the  day  then  present,  and  the  gain 
that  belongs  to  the  time  that  then  is,  and  will 
not  make  up  for  the  gain  that  has  been  once 
for  all  lost. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

How  even  celestial  powers  above  are  capable  of  change. 

But  that  even  the  powers  above  are,  as  we 
said,  subject  to  change  is  shown  by  those  who 
fell  from  their  ranks  through  the  fault  of  a 
corrupt  will.  Wherefore  we  ought  not  to 
think  that  the  nature  of  those  is  unchangeable, 
who  remain  in  the  blessed  condition  in  which 
they  were  created,  simply  because  they  were 
not  in  like  manner  led  astray  to  choose  the 
worse  part.  For  it  is  one  thing  to  have  a 
nature  incapable  of  change,  and  another 
thing  for  a  man  through  the  efforts  of  his  vir- 
tue, and  by  guarding  what  is  good  through  the 
grace  of  the  unchangeable  God,  to  be  kept 
from  change.  For  everything  that  is  secured 
or  preserved  by  care,  can  also  be  lost  by  care- 
lessness. And  so  we  read:  "Call  no  man 
blessed  before  his  death,"4  because  so  long 
as  a  man  is  still  engaged  in  the  struggle, 
and  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  still  wrest- 
ling—  even  though  he  generally  conquers 
and  carries  off  many  prizes  of  victory,  —  yet 
he  can  never  be  free  from  fear,  and  from  the 
suspicion  of  an  uncertain  issue.  And  there- 
fore God  alone  is  called  unchangeable  and 
good,  as  His  goodness  is  not  the  result  of 
effort,  but  a  natural  possession,  and  so  He 
cannot  be  anything  but  good.  No  virtue  then 
can  be  acquired  by  man  without  the  possibility 
of  change,  but  in  order  that  when  it  once 
exists  it  may  be  continually  preserved,  it  must 
be  watched  over  with  the  same  care  and  dili- 
gence with  which  it  was  acquired. 


1  Job  xv.  14,  15. 


2  Ps.  ci.  (cii.)  27. 


3  Mai.  iii.  6. 


i  Ecclus.  xi.  30. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   SERENUS. 


361 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

That  no  one  is  dashed  to  the  ground  by  a  sudden  fall. 

But  we  must  not  imagine  that  anyone  slips 
and  comes  to  grief  by  a  sudden  fall,  but  that 
he  falls  by  a  hopeless  collapse  either  from 
being  deceived  by  beginning  his  training 
badly,  or  from  the  good  qualities  of  his  soul 
failing  through  a  long  course  of  carelessness  of 
mind,  and  so  his  faults  gaining  ground  upon 
him  little  by  little.  For  "  loss  goeth  before 
destruction,  and  an  evil  thought  before  a 
fall,"  *  just  as  no  house  ever  falls  to  the  ground 
by  a  sudden  collapse,  but  only  when  there  is 
some  flaw  of  long  standing  in  the  foundation, 
or  when  by  long  continued  neglect  of  its  in- 
mates, what  was  at  first  only  a  little  drip  finds 
its  way  through,  and  so  the  protecting  walls 
are  by  degrees  ruined,  and  in  consequence 
of  long  standing  neglect  the  gap  becomes 
larger,  and  break  away,  and  in  time  the 
drenching  storm  and  rain  pours  in  like  a 
river:  for  "by  slothfulness  a  building  is  cast 
down,  and  through  the  weakness  of  hands  the 
house  shall  drop  through,"  2  And  that  the  same 
thing  happens  spiritually  to  the  soul  the  same 


Solomon  thus  tells  us  in  other  words,  when  he 
says:  "water  dripping  drives  a  man  out  of  the 
house  on  a  stormy  clay."  4  Elegantly  then 
does  he  compare  carelessness  of  mind  to  a 
roof,  and  to  tiles  that  have  not  been  looked 
after,  through  which  in  the  first  instance  only 
very  slight  drippings  (so  to  speak)  of  the  pas- 
sions make  their  way  to  the  soul :  but  if  these 
are  not  heeded,  as  being  but  small  and  trifling, 
then  the  beams  of  virtues  will  decay  and  be  car- 
ried away  by  a  great  tempest  of  sins,  through 
which  "on  a  stormy  day,"  i.e.,  in  the  time 
of  temptation,  the  devil's  attack  will  assail  us, 
and  the  soul  will  be  driven  forth  from  the 
abode  of  virtue,  in  which,  as  long  as  it  pre- 
served all  watchful  diligence,  it  had  remained 
as  in  a  house  that  belonged  to  it. 

And  so  when  we  had  heard  this,  we  were 
so  immensely  delighted  with  our  spiritual 
repast,  that  the  mental  pleasure  with  which 
we  were  filled  by  this  conference  outweighed 
the  sorrow  which  we  had  experienced  before 
from  the  death  of  the  saints.  For  not  only 
were  we  instructed  in  things  about  which  we 
had  been  puzzled,  but  we  also  learnt  from  the 
raising  of  that  question  some  things,  which 
our  understanding  had  been  too  small  for  us 
to  ask  about. 


CONFERENCE    VII. 


FIRST  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  SERENUS. 

ON  INCONSTANCY   OF  MIND,    AND    SPIRITUAL    WICKEDNESS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

On  the  chastity  of  Abbot  Serenus.3 

As  we  desire  to  introduce  to  earnest  minds 
the  Abbot  Serenus,  a  man  of  the  greatest 
holiness  and  continence,  and  one  who  answers 
like  a  mirror  to  his  name,  whom  we  admired 
above  all  others  with  peculiar  veneration,  we 
think  that  we  only  carry  out  our  desire  by  the 
attempt  to  insert  his  conferences  in  our  book. 
To  this  man  beyond  all  other  virtues,  which 
shone  forth  not  merely  in  his  actions  and 
manners,  but  by  God's  grace  in  his  very  look 
as  well,  there  was  granted  by  a  special  blessing 
the  gift  of  continence,  so  that  he  never  felt 
himself  disturbed  even  by  natural  incitements 


1  Prov.  xvi.  18  (LXX.). 

2  Eccl.  x.  18  (LXX.). 

3  Very  little  is  known  of  Serenus  but  what  is  here  told. 
Vitas  Patrum,  c.  1. 


Cf.  the 


even  in  sleep.  And  how  it  was  that  by  the 
assistance  of  God's  grace  he  attained  such 
wondrous  purity  of  the  flesh,  as  it  seems 
beyond  the  conditions  of  human  nature,  I 
think  that  I  ought  first  of  all  to  explain. 

CHAPTER    II. 

The  question  of  the  aforesaid  old  man  on  the  state  of  our 
thoughts. 

This  man  then  in  his  prayers  by  day  and 
night,  and  in  fasts  and  vigils  unweariedly 
entreated  for  inward  chastity  of  heart  and  soul, 
and  seeing  that  he  had  obtained  what  he 
wished  and  prayed  for,  and  that  all  the  pas- 
sions of  carnal  concupiscence  in  his  heart  were 
dead,  was  roused  as  it  were  by  the  sweetest 
taste  of  purity,  and  inflamed  by  his  zeal  for 


*  Prov.  xxvii.  15  (LXX.). 


:62 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


chastity  towards  a  yet  more  ardent  desire,  and 
began  to  apply  himself  to  stricter  fasts  and 
prayers  that  the  mortification  of  this  passion 
which  by  God's  grace  had  been  granted  to  his 
inner  man,  might  be  extended  also  so  as  to  in- 
clude external  purity,  to  such  an  extent  that 
he  might  no  longer  be  affected  by  any  simple 
and  natural  movement,  such  as  is  excited 
even  in  children  and  infants.  And  by  the  ex- 
perience of  the  gift  he  had  obtained,  which 
he  knew  he  had  secured  by  no  merit  of  his 
labours,  but  by  the  grace  of  God,  he  was  the 
more  ardently  stimulated  to  obtain  this  also 
in  like  manner,  as  he  believed  that  God  could 
much  more  easily  tear  up  by  the  roots  this  in- 
citement of  the  flesh,  (which  even  by  man's 
art  and  skill  is  sometimes  destroyed  by  potions 
and  remedies  or  by  the  use  of  the  knife)  since 
He  had  of  His  own  free  gift  conferred  that 
purity  of  spirit  which  is  a  still  greater  thing, 
and  which  cannot  be  acquired  by  human  efforts 
and  exertions.  And  when  with  unceasing 
supplications  and  tears  he  was  applying  him- 
self unweariedly  to  the  petition  he  had  com- 
menced, there  came  to  him  an  angel  in  a  vision 
by  night,  and  seemed  to  open  his  belly,  and  to 
remove  from  his  bowels  a  sort  of  fiery  fleshly 
humour,  and  to  cast  it  away,  and  restore 
everything  to  its  place  as  before;  and  "  lo  "  he 
said,  "  the  incitements  of  your  flesh  are  re- 
moved, and  you  may  be  sure  that  you  have 
this  day  obtained  that  lasting  purity  of  body 
for  which  you  have  faithfully  asked."  It  will 
be  enough  thus  briefly  to  have  told  this  of 
the  grace  of  God  which  was  granted  to  this 
famous  man  in  a  special  way.  But  I  deem  it 
unnecessary  to  say  anything  of  those  virtues 
which  he  possessed  in  common  with  other 
good  men,  for  fear  lest  that  particular  narra- 
tive on  this  man's  name  might  seem  to  deprive 
others  of  that  which  is  specially  mentioned 
of  him.  Him  therefore,  as  we  were  inflamed 
with  the  greatest  eagerness  for  conference  with 
and  instruction  from  him,  we  arranged  to 
visit  in  Lent ;  and  when  he  had  very  quietly 
inquired  of  us  of  the  character  of  our  thoughts 
and  the  state  of  our  inner  man,  and  what  help 
we  had  got  towards  its  purity  from  our  long 
stay  in  the  desert,  we  approached  him  with 
these  complaints : 

CHAPTER   III. 

Our  answer  on  the  fickle  character  of  our  thoughts. 

The  time  spent  here,  and  the  dwelling  in 
solitude,  and  meditation,  through  which  you 


think  that  we  ought  to  have  attained  perfec- 
tion of  the  inner  man,  has  only  done  this  for 
us;  viz.,  teach  us  that  which  we  are  unable  to 
be,  without  making  us  what  we  are  trying  to 
be.     Nor  do  we  feel  that  by  this  knowledge 
we  have  acquired  any  fixed  steadfastness  of 
the  purity  which  we  long  for,  or  any  strength 
and  firmness ;  but  only  an   increase  of  confu- 
sion and  shame :  for  though  our  meditation  in 
all  our  discipline  aims  at   this  in  our    daily 
studies,    and  endeavours  from  trembling  be- 
ginnings to  reach  a  sure  and  unwavering  skill, 
and   to    begin    to   know    something   of   what 
originally  it  knew  but  vaguely  or  was   alto- 
gether ignorant  of,  and  by  advancing  by  sure 
steps  (so  to  speak)  towards  the  condition  of 
that  discipline,   to  habituate  itself   perfectly 
to  it  without  any  difficulty,  I  find  on  the  con- 
trary that  while  I  am  struggling  in  this  desire 
for  purity,  I  have  only  got  far  enough  to  know 
what   I   cannot  be.     And   hence   I   feel   that 
nothing  but  trouble  results  to  me  from  all  this 
contrition  of  heart,  so  that  matter  for  tears  is 
never  wanting,  and  yet  I  do  not  cease  to  be 
what  I  ought  not  to  be.     And  so  what  is  the 
good  of  having  learnt  what  is  best,  if  it  cannot 
be  attained  even  when  known  ?  for  when  Ave 
have  been  feeling  that  the  aim  of   our  heart 
was  directed  towards  what  we  purposed,    in- 
sensibly the  mind  returns  to  its  previous  wan- 
dering thoughts  and  slips  back  with  a  more 
violent  rush,  and  is  taken  up  with  daily  dis- 
tractions and  incessantly  drawn  away  by  num- 
berless things  that  take  it  captive,  so  that  we 
almost  despair  of  the  improvement  which  we 
long  for,  and  all  these  observances  seem  use- 
less.     Since  the  mind  which  every  moment 
wanders  off  vaguely,  when  it  is  brought  back 
to  the  fear  of  God  or  spiritual  contemplation, 
before  it  is  established  in  it,   darts  off   and 
strays ;  and  when  we  have  been  roused   and 
have  discovered  that  it  has  wandered  from  the 
purpose  set  before  it,  and  want  to  recall  it  to 
the  meditation  from  which  it  has  strayed,  and 
to  bind   it  fast  with  the  firmest  purpose   of 
heart,  as  if  with  chains,  while  we  are  making 
the    attempt  it   slips    away  from   the   inmost 
recesses  of   the  heart   swifter  than    a    snake. 
Wherefore  we  being  inflamed  by  daily  exer- 
cises of  this  kind,  and  yet  not  seeing  that  we 
gain  from  them  any  strength  and  stability  in 
heart  are  overcome  and  in  despair  driven  to 
this  opinion;  viz.,  to  believe  that  it  is  from  no 
fault  of  our  own  but  from  a  fault  of  our  nature 
that  these  wanderings  of  mind  are  found  in 
mankind. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    SERENUS. 


36; 


CHAPTER   IV. 

The  discourse  of  the  old  man  on  the  state  of  the  soul  and  its 
excellence. 

Serenus:  It  is  dangerous  to  jump  to  a 
conclusion  and  lay  down  the  law  hastily  on 
the  nature  of  anything  before  you  have  pro- 
perly discussed  the  subject  and  considered  its 
true  character.  Nor  should  you,  looking  only 
at  your  own  weakness,  hazard  a  conjecture 
instead  of  pronouncing  a  judgment  based  on 
the  character  and  value  of  the  practice  itself, 
and  others'  experience  of  it.  For  if  anyone, 
who  was  ignorant  of  swimming  but  knew  that 
the  weight  of  his  body  could  not  be  supported 
by  water,  wished  from  the  proof  which  his 
inexperience  afforded,  to  lay  down  that  no 
one  composed  of  solid  flesh  could  possibly  be 
supported  on  the  liquid  element,  we  ought  not 
therefore  to  think  his  opinion  a  true  one, 
which  he  seemed  to  bring  forward  in  accord- 
ance with  his  own  experience,  since  this  can 
be  shown  to  be  not  merely  not  impossible  but 
actually  extremely  easily  done  by  others,  by 
the  clearest  proofs  and  ocular  demonstration. 
And  so  the  vovg,  i.e.,  the  mind,  is  defined  as 
<xetx[vT]Tog  xalnolvxlvrjioc,  i.e.,  ever  shifting  and 
very  shifting :  as  it  is  thus  described  in  the  so 
called  wisdom  of  Solomon  in  other  words :  xal 
yeadeg  ov.r\voq  ^gldei  vovv  nolvcpodvTidu,  i.e.,"  And 
the  earthly  tabernacle  weigheth  down  the 
mind  that  museth  on  many  things."  l  This 
then  in  accordance  with  its  nature  can  never 
remain  idle,  but  unless  provision  is  made 
where  it  may  exercise  its  motions  and  have 
what  will  continually  occupy  it,  it  must  by 
its  own  fickleness  wander  about  and  stray 
over  all  kinds  of  things  until,  accustomed  by 
long  practice  and  daily  use  —  in  which  you 
say  that  you  have  toiled  without  result  —  it 
tries  and  learns  what  food  for  the  memory  it 
ought  to  prepare,  toward  which  it  may  bring 
back  its  unwearied  flight  and  acquire  strength 
for  remaining,  and  thus  may  succeed  in  dri- 
ving away  the  hostile  suggestion  of  the  enemy 
by  which  it  is  distracted,  and  in  persisting  in 
that  state  and  condition  which  it  yearns  for. 
We  ought  not  then  to  ascribe  this  wandering 
inclination  of  our  heart  either  to  human  nature 
or  to  God  its  Creator.  For  it  is  a  true  state- 
ment of  Scripture,  that  "  God  made  man  up- 
right; but  they  themselves  found  out  many 
thoughts"2  The  character  of  these  then  de- 
pends on  us  ourselves,  for  it  says  "a  good 
thought  comes  near  to  those  that  know  it,  but 
a  prudent  man  will  find  it."  3    For  where  any- 


1  Wisdom  ix.  15.  -  Eccl.  vii.  29  (LXX.). 

'     3  Prov.  xix.  7  (LXX.). 


thing  is  subject  to  our  prudence  and  industry  so 
that  it  can  be  found  out,  there  if.it  is  not  found 
out,  we  ought  certainly  to  set  it  down  to  our  own 
laziness  or  carelessness  and  not  to  the  fault  of 
our  nature.  And  with  this  meaning  the  Psalm- 
ist also  is  in  agreement,  when  he  says :  "  Blessed 
is  the  man  whose  help  is  from  Thee :  in  his 
heart  he  hath  disposed  his  ascents."  4  You  see 
then  that  it  lies  in  our  power  to  dispose  in 
our  hearts  either  ascents,  i.e.,  thoughts  that 
belong  to  God,  or  desce?its ;  viz.,  those  that  sink 
down  to  carnal  and  earthly  things.  And  if 
this  was  not  in  our  power  the  Lord  would  not 
have  rebuked  the  Pharisees,  saying  "Why  do 
ye  think  evil  in  your  hearts?  "  5  nor  wou.  He 
have  given  this  charge  by  the  prophet,  saying: 
"Take  away  the  ev"il  of  your  thoughts  from 
mine  eyes;"  and  "How  long  shall  wicked 
thoughts  remain  in  you  ?  " 6  Nor  would  the 
character  of  them  as  of  our  works  be  taken 
into  consideration  in  the  day  of  judgment  in 
our  case  as  the  Lord  threatens  by  Isaiah : 
"Lo,  I  come  to  gather  together  their  works 
and  thoughts  together  with  all  nations  and 
tongues ; " 7  nor  would  it  be  right  that  we 
should  be  condemned  or  defended  by  their 
evidence  in  that  terrible  and  dreadful  ex- 
amination, as  the  blessed  Apostle  says: 
"Their  thoughts  between  themselves  accusing 
or  also  defending  one  another,  in  the  day 
when  God  shall  judge  the  secrets  of  men 
according  to  my  gospel."  8 


CHAPTER   V. 

On  the  perfection  of  the  soul,  as  drawn  from  the  comparison 
of  the  Centurion  in  the  gospel. 

Of  this  perfect  mind  then  there  is  an  excel- 
lent figure  drawn  in  the  case  of  the  centurion 
in  the  gospel ;  whose  virtue  and  consistency, 
owing  to  which  he  was  not  led  away  by  the 
rush  of  thoughts,  but  in  accordance  with  his 
own  judgment  either  admitted  such  as  were 
good,  or  easily  drove  away  those  of  the  oppo- 
site character,  are  described  in  this  tropical 
form :  "  For  I  also  am  a  man  under  authority, 
having  soldiers  under  me :  and  I  say  to  this 
man,  Go,  and  he  goeth;  and  to  another, 
Come,  and  he  cometh ;  and  to  my  servant,  Do 
this,  and  he  doeth  it."  9  If  then  we  too  strive 
manfully  against  disturbances  and  sins  and  can 
bring  them  under  our  own  control  and  dis- 
cretion, and  fight  and  destroy  the  passions  in 
our  flesh,  and  bring  under  the  sway  of  reason 


4  Ps.  lxxxiii.  (lxxxiv.)  6. 

5  S.  Matt.  ix.  4. 

0  Is.  i.  16  ;  Jer.  iv.  14. 


Is.  lxvi.  iS. 
Rom.  ii.  15,  16. 
S.  Matt.  viii.  9. 


3^4 


CASSIAN'S   CONFERENCES. 


the  swarm  of  our  thoughts,  and  drive  back 
from  our  breast  the  terrible  hosts  of  the 
powers  opposed  to  us  by  the  life-giving 
standard  of  the  Lord's  cross,  we  shall  in 
reward  for  such  triumphs  be  promoted  to  the 
rank  of  that  centurion  spiritually  understood, 
who,  as  we  read  in  Exodus,  was  mystically 
pointed  to  by  Moses :  "  Appoint  for  thee  rulers 
of  thousands,  and  of  hundreds,  and  of  fifties 
and  of  tens."  1  And  so  we  too  when  raised  to 
the  height  of  this  dignity  shall  have  the  same 
right  and  power  to  command,  so  that  we 
shall  not  be  carried  away  by  thoughts  against 
our  will,  but  shall  be  able  to  continue  in  and 
cling  to  those  which  spiritually  delight  us, 
commanding  the  evil  suggestions  to  depart,  and 
they  will  depart,  while  to' good  ones  we  shall 
say  "Come,'1  and  they  will  come:  and  to  our 
servant  also,  i.e.,  the  body  we  shall  in  like 
manner  enjoin  what  belongs  to  chastity  and 
continence,  and  it  will  serve  us  without  any 
gainsaying,  no  longer  arousing  in  us  the  hos- 
tile incitements  of  concupiscence,  but  showing 
all  subservience  to  the  spirit.  And  what  is 
the  character  of  the  arms  of  this  centurion, 
and  for  what  use  in  battle  they  are,  hear  the 
blessed  Apostle  declaring:  "The  arms,"  he 
says,  "of  our  warfare  are  not  carnal,  but 
mighty  to  God."  He  tells  us  their  character; 
viz.,  that  they  are  not  carnal  or  weak,  but 
spiritual  and  mighty  to  God.  Then  he  next 
suggests  in  what  struggles  they  are  to  be 
used:  "Unto  the  pulling  down  of  fortifica- 
tions, purging  the  thoughts,  and  ever}''  height 
that  exalteth  itself  against  the  knowledge  of 
God,  and  bringing  into  captivity  every  under- 
standing unto  the  obedience  of  Christ,  and 
having  in  readiness  to  avenge  all  disobedience, 
when  your  obedience  shall  be  first  fulfilled."  - 
And  since  though  useful,  it  yet  belongs  to 
another  time  to  run  through  these  one  by  one,  I 
only  want  you  to  see  the  different  sorts  of  these 
arms  and  their  characteristics,  as  we  also  ought 
always  to  walk  with  them  girt  upon  us  if  Ave 
mean  to  fight  the  Lord's  battles  and  to  serve 
among  the  centurions  of  the  gospel.  "Take," 
he  says  "the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye  may 
be  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the 
evil  one."3  Faith  then  is  that  which  inter- 
cepts the  flaming  darts  of  lust,  and  destroys 
them  by  the  fear  of  future  judgment,  and 
belief  in  the  heavenly  kingdom.  "And  the 
breastplate,"  he  says,  "of  charity."  4  This  in- 
deed is  that  which  going  round  the  vital  parts 
of  the  breast  and  protecting  what  is  exposed 


1  Exod.  via.  21, 

2  1  Cor.  x.  4-6. 


z  Eph.  vi.  16. 
4   1  Thess.  v.  S. 


to  the  deadly  wounds  of  swelling  thoughts, 
keeps  off  the  blows  opposed  to  it,  and  does 
not  allow  the  darts  of  the  devil  to  penetrate  to 
our  inner  man.  For  it  "endureth  all  things, 
suffereth  all  things,  beareth  all  things."5 
"And  for  an  helmet  the  hope  of  salvation."  6 
The  helmet  is  what  protects  the  head.  As 
then  Christ  is  our  head,  we  ought  always 
in  all  temptations  and  persecutions  to  pro- 
tect it  with  the  hope  of  future  good  things 
to  come,  and  especially  to  keep  faith  in  Him 
whole  and  undefiled.  For  it  is  possible  for 
one  who  has  lost  other  parts  of  the  body, 
weak  as  he  may  be,  still  to  survive :  but  even 
a  short  time  of  living  is  extended  to  no  one 
without  a  head.  "  And  the  sword  of  the  Spirit 
which  is  the  word  of  God."7  For  it  is 
"sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword,  and  pier- 
cing even  to  the  dividing  of  soul  and  spirit,  and 
of  the  joints  and  marrow,  and  is  a  discerner 
of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart : "  8 
as  it  divides  and  cuts  off  whatever  carnal 
and  earthly  things  it  may  find  in  us.  And 
whosoever  is  protected  by  these  arms  will  ever 
be  defended  from  the  weapons  and  ravages  of 
his  foes,  and  will  not  be  led  away  bound  in 
the  chains  of  his  spoilers,  a  captive  and  a 
prisoner,  to  the  hostile  land  of  vain  thoughts, 
nor  hear  the  words  of  the  prophet :  "  Why  art 
thou  grown  old  in  a  strange  country?  "  9  But 
he  will  stand  like  a  triumphant  conqueror  in 
the  land  of  thoughts  which  he  has  chosen. 
Would  you  understand  too  the  strength  and 
courage  of  this  centurion,  by  which  he  bears 
these  arms  of  which  we  spoke  before  as  not 
carnal  but  mighty  to  God?  Hear  of  the  se- 
lection by  which  the  King  himself  marks  and 
approves  brave  men  when  he  summons  them 
to  the  spiritual  combat.  "'Let,"  says  He, 
"the  weak  say  that  I  am  strong;  "  and:  "Let 
him  who  is  the  sufferer  become  a  warrior."10 
You  see  then  that  none  but  sufferers  and 
weak  people  can  fight  the  Lord's  battles,  weak 
indeed  with  that  weakness,  founded  on  which 
that  centurion  of  ours  in  the  gospel  said  with 
confidence :  "  For  when  I  am  weak,  then  am  I 
strong,"  and  again,  "for  strength  is  made  per- 
fect in  weakness."  n  Of  which  weakness  one 
of  the  prophets  says:  "And  he  that  is  weak 
among  them  shall  be  as  the  house  of  David.12 
For  the  patient  sufferer  shall  fight  these 
wars,  with  that  patience  of  which  it  is  said 
"patience  is  necessary  for  you  that  doing  the 
will  of  God  vou  may  receive  the  reward.''" ls 


1  Cor.  xiii.  7. 
1  Thess.  v.  8. 
Eph.  vi.  17. 
Heb.  iv.  12. 
Baruch  iii.  11. 


*°  Joelii.  10,  11  (LXX.). 

11  2  Cor.  xii.  q,  10. 

12  Zech.  xii.  8. 

13  Heb.  x.  36. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    SERENUS. 


365 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Of  perseverance  as  regards  care  of  the  thoughts. 

But  we  shall  find  out  by  our  own  experience 
that  we  can  and  ought  to  cling  to  the  Lord  if 
we  have  our  wills  mortified  and  the  desires  of 
this  world  cut  off,  and  we  shall  be  taught  by 
the  authority  of  those  who  in  converse  with 
the  Lord  say  in  all  confidence :  "  My  soul  hath 
stuck  close  to  Thee  ;  "  and  :  "  I  have  stuck 
unto  Thy  testimonies,  OLord;"  and:  "It  is 
good  for  me  to  stick  fast  to  God ;  "  and :  "  He 
who  cleaveth  to  the  Lord,  is  one  spirit." x  We 
ought  not  then  to  be  wearied  out  by  these 
wanderings  of  mind  and  relax  from  our  fer- 
vour: for  "he  that  tilleth  his  ground  shall  be 
filled  with  bread:  but  he  that  followeth  idle- 
ness shall  be  filled  with  poverty."2  Nor 
should  we  be  drawn  away  from  being  intent 
on  this  watchfulness  through  a  dangerous 
despair,  for  "  in  every  one  who  is  anxious  there 
is  abundance,  for  he  who  is  pleasant  and  free 
from  grief  will  be  in  want ; "  and  again :  "  a 
man  in  grief  labours  for  himself,  and  forcibly 
brings  about  his  own  destruction. "  3  Moreover 
also :  "  the  kingdom  of  heaven  suffereth  vio- 
lence and  the  violent  take  it  by  force,"4  for 
no  virtue  is  acquired  without  effort,  nor  can 
anyone  attain  to  that  mental  stability  which 
he  desires  without  great  sorrow  of  heart,  for 
"man  is  born  to  trouble,"  5  and  in  order  that 
he  may  be  able  to  attain  to  "  the  perfect  man, 
the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of 
Christ "  6  he  must  ever  be  on  the  watch  with 
still  greater  intentness,  and  toil  with  cease- 
less carefulness.  But  to  the  fulness  of  this 
measure  no  one  will  ever  attain,  but  one  who 
has  considered  it  beforehand  and  been  trained 
to  it  now  and  has  had  some  foretaste  of  it 
while  still  in  this  world,  and  being  marked  a 
most  precious  member  of  Christ,  has  possessed 
in  the  flesh  an  earnest  of  that  "joint"7  by 
which  he  can  be  united  to  His  body  :  desiring 
one  thing  alone,  thirsting  for  but  one  thing, 
ever  bringing  not  only  his  acts  but  even  his 
thoughts  to  bear  on  one  thing  alone;  viz., 
that  he  may  even  now  keep  as  an  earnest 
that  which  is  said  of  the  blessed  life  of  the 
saints  hereafter;  viz.,  that  "God  may  be"  to 
him  "all  in  all."  8 


1  Ps.  xlii.  (lxiii.)  9;  cxviii.   (cxix.)3i;  lxxi.  (lxxiii)  28;    1   Cor. 
vi.  17. 

2  Prov.  xxviii.  19. 

3  Prov.  xiv.  23  ;  xvi.  26  (LXX.). 

4  S.  Matt.  xi.  12. 

5  Job  v.  7. 

c  Er>h.  iv.  13. 

7  Ibid. 

8  1  Cor.  xv.  2S. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

A  question  on  the  roving  tendency  of  the  mind  and  the 
attacks  of  spiritual  wickedness. 

Germanus:  Perhaps  this  tendency  of  the 
mind  to  rove  might  to  some  extent  be 
checked  were  it  not  that  so  great  a  swarm  of 
enemies  surrounded  it,  and  ceaselessly  urged 
it  toward  what  it  has  no  wish  for,  or  rather 
whither  the  roving  character  of  its  own  nature 
drives  it.  And  since  such  numberless  foes, 
and  those  so  powerful  and  terrible,  surround 
it,  we  should  not  fancy  that  it  was  possible  for 
them  to  be  withstood  especially  by  this  weak 
flesh  of  ours,  were  we  not  encouraged  to  this 
view  by  your  words  as  if  by  oracles  from 
heaven. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

The  answer  on  the  help  of  God  and  the  power  of  free  will. 

Serenus  :  No  one  who  has  experienced 
the  conflicts  of  the  inner  man,  can  doubt  that 
our  foes  are  continually  lying  in  wait  for  us. 
But  we  mean  that  they  oppose  our  progress  in 
such  a  way  that  we  can  think  of  them  as  only 
inciting  to  evil  things  and  not  forcing.  But  no 
one  could  altogether  avoid  whatever  sin  they 
were  inclined  to  imprint  upon  our  hearts,  if  a 
strong  impulse  was  present  to  force  (evil) 
upon  us,  just  as  it  is  to  suggest  it.  Wherefore 
as  there  is  in  them  ample  power  of  inciting, 
so  in  us  there  is  a  supply  of  power  of  rejec- 
tion, and  of  liberty  of  acquiescing.  But  if  we 
are  afraid  of  their  power  and  assaults,  we 
may  also  claim  the  protection  and  assistance 
of  God  against  them,  of  which  we  read :  "  For 
greater  is  He  who  is  in  us  than  he  who  is  in  this 
world:  "9  and  His  aid  fights  on  our  side  with 
much  greater  power  than  their  hosts  fight 
against  us ;  for  God  is  not  only  the  suggester  of 
what  is  good,  but  the  maintainer  and  insister 
of  it,  so  that  sometimes  He  draws  us  towards 
salvation  even  against  our  will  and  without  our 
knowing  it.  It  follows  then  that  no  one  can  be 
deceived  by  the  devil  but  one  who  has  chosen 
to  yield  to  him  the  consent  of  his  own  will :  as 
Ecclesiastes  clearly  puts  it  in  these  words: 
"  For  since  there  is  no  gainsaying  by  those  who 
do  evil  speedily,  therefore  the  heart  of  the  child- 
ren of  men  is  filled  within  them  to  do  evil."  10 
It  is  therefore  clear  that  each  man  goes  wrong 
from  this ;  viz. ,  that  when  evil  thoughts  assault 
him  he  does  not  immediately  meet  them  with 
refusal  and  contradiction,  for  it  says:  ''resist 
him,  and  he  will  flee  from  you."  u 


8  1  John  iv.  4. 


Eccl.  viii.  11  (LXX.). 


S.  James  iv.  7. 


366 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

A  question  on  the  union  of  the  soul  with  devils. 

Germanus:  What,  I  pray  you,  is  that  in- 
discriminate and  common  union  of  the  soul 
with  those  evil  spirits,  by  which  it  is  possible 
for  them  to  be  (I  will  not  say  joined  with  but) 
united  to  it  in  such  a  way  that  they  can  im- 
perceptibly talk  with  it,  and  find  their  way 
into  it  and  suggest  to  it  whatever  they  want, 
and  incite  it  to  whatever  they  like,  and  look 
into  and  see  its  thoughts  and  movements; 
and  the  result  is  so  close  a  union  between  them 
and  the  soul  that  it  is  almost  impossible  with- 
out God's  grace  to  distinguish  between  what 
results  from  their  instigation,  and  what  from 
our  free  will. 


CHAPTER   X. 

The  answer  how  unclean  spirits  are  united  with  human  souls. 

Serenus  :  It  is  no  wonder  that  spirit  can 
be  imperceptibly  joined  with  spirit,  and  exer- 
cise an  unseen  power  of  persuasion  toward 
what  is  allowed  to  it.  For  there  is  between 
them  (just  as  between  men)  some  sort  of 
similarity  and  kinship  of  substance,  since 
the  description  which  is  given  of  the  nature 
of  the  soul,  applies  equally  well  to  their  sub- 
stance. But  it  is  impossible  for  spirits  to  be 
implanted  in  spirits  inwardly  or  united  with 
them  in  such  a  way  that  one  can  hold  the 
other;  for  this  is  the  true  prerogative  of  Deity 
alone,  which  is  the  only  simple  and  incor- 
poreal nature. 


CHAPTER   XL 


An  objection  whether  unclean  spirits  can  be  present  in  or 
united  with  the  souls  of  those  whom  they  have  filled. 


Germanus  :  To  this  idea  we  think  that 
what  we  see  happen  in  the  case  of  those 
possessed  is  sufficiently  opposed,  when  they 
say  and  do  what  they  know  not  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  spirits.  How  then  are  we  to 
refuse  to  believe  that  their  souls  are  not 
united  to  those  spirits,  when  we  see  them  made 
their  instruments,  and  (forsaking  their  natural 
condition)  yielding  to  their  movements  and 
moods,  in  such  a  way  that  they  give  expres- 
sion no  longer  to  their  own  words  and  actions 
and  wishes,  but  to  those  of  the  demons? 


CHAPTER   XII. 

The  answer  how  it  is  that  unclean  spirits  can  lord  it  over 
those  possessed. 

Serenus  :  What  you  speak  of  as  taking 
place  in  the  case  of  demoniacs  is  not  opposed 
to  our  assertion;  viz.,  that  those  possessed  by 
unclean  spirits  say  and  do  what  they  do  not 
want  to,  and  are  forced  to  utter  what  they 
know  not;  for  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  they 
are  not  subject  to  the  entrance  of  the  spirits 
all  in  the  same  way :  for  some  are  affected  by 
them  in  such  a  way  as  to  have  not  the  slight- 
est conception  of  what  they  do  and  say,  while 
others  know  and  afterwards  recollect  it.  But 
we  must  not  imagine  that  this  is  done  by  the 
infusion  of  the  spirit  in  such  a  way  that  it 
penetrates  into  the  actual  substance  of  the 
soul  and,  being  as  it  were  united  to  it  and 
somehow  clothed  with  it,  utters  words  and 
sayings  through  the  mouth  of  the  sufferer. 
For  we  ought  not  to  believe  that  this  can 
possibly  be  done  by  them.  For  we  can 
clearly  see  that  this  results  from  no  loss 
of  the  soul  but  from  weakness  of  the  body, 
when  the  unclean  spirit  seizes  on  those 
members  in  which  the  vigour  of  the  soul 
resides,  and  laying  on  them  an  enormous  and 
intolerable  weight  overwhelms  it  with  foulest 
darkness,  and  interferes  with  its  intellectual 
powers :  as  we  see  sometimes  happen  also 
from  the  fault  of  wine  and  fever  or  excessive 
cold,  and  other  indispositions  affecting  men 
from  without;  and  it  was  this  which  the  devil 
was  forbidden  to  attempt  to  inflict  on  the 
blessed  Job,  though  he  had  received  power 
over  his  flesh,  when  the  Lord  commanded  him 
saying:  "  Lo,  I  give  him  into  thine  hands: 
only  preserve  his  soul,"  1  i.e.,  do  not  weaken 
the  seat  of  his  soul  and  make  him  mad,  and 
overpower  the  understanding  and  wisdom  of 
what  remains,  by  smothering  the  ruling  power 
in  his  heart  with  your  weight. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

How  spirit  cannot  be  penetrated  by  spirit,  and  how  God 
alone  is  incorporeal. 

For  even  if  spirit  is  mingled  with  this 
crass  and  solid  matter;  viz.,  flesh  fas  very 
easily  happens),  should  we  therefore  believe 
that  it  can  be  united  to  the  soul,  which  is  in 
like  manner  spirit,  in  such  a  way  as  to  make 
it  also  receptive  in  the  same  way  of  its  own 
nature :     a    thing    which    is    possible    to    the 


1  Job  ii.  6  (T.XX.). 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   SERENUS. 


;67 


Trinity  alone,  which  is  so  capable  of  perva- 
ding every  intellectual  nature,  that  it  cannot 
only  embrace  and  surround  it  but  even  insert 
itself  into  it  and,  incorporeal  though  it  is, 
be  infused  into  a  body?  For  though  we 
maintain  that  some  spiritual  natures  exist, 
such  as  angels,  archangels  and  the  other 
powers,  and  indeed  our  own  souls  and  the 
thin  air,  yet  we  ought  certainly  not  to  con- 
sider them  incorporeal.  For  they  have  in 
their  own  fashion  a  body  in  which  they  exist, 
though  it  is  much  finer  than  our  bodies  are, 
in  accordance  with  the  Apostle's  words  when 
he  says :  "  And  there  are  bodies  celestial,  and 
bodies  terrestrial :  "  and  again :  "  It  is  sown  a 
natural  body,  it  is  raised  a  spiritual  body;  "  * 
from  which  it  is  clearly  gathered  that  there  is 
nothing  incorporeal  but  God  alone,  and  there- 
fore it  is  only  by  Him  that  all  spiritual  and 
intellectual  substances  can  be  pervaded, 
because  He  alone  is  whole  and  everywhere 
and  in  all  things,  in  such  a  way  as  to  be- 
hold and  see  the  thoughts  of  men  and  their 
inner  movements  and  all  the  recesses  of  the 
soul;  since  it  was  of  Him  alone  that  the 
blessed  Apostle  spoke  when  he  said:  "For 
the  word  of  God  is  quick  and  powerful  and 
sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword,  and  pier- 
cing even  to  the  dividing  of  soul  and  spirit  and 
of  the  joints  and  marrow;  and  is  a  discerner 
of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart ;  and 
there  is  no  creature  invisible  in  His  sight, 
but  all  things  are  naked  and  open  to  His 
eyes."2  And  the  blessed  David  says:  "Who 
fashioneth  their  hearts  one  by  one;  "  and 
again :  "  For  He  knoweth  the  secrets  of  the 
heart;"3  and  Job  too:  "Thou  who  alone 
knowest  the  hearts  of  men."  4 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

An  objection,  as  to  how  we  ought  to  believe  that  devils  see 
into  the  thoughts  of  men. 

Germanus:  In  this  way,  which  you  de- 
scribe, those  spirits  cannot  possibly  see  into 
our  thoughts.  But  we  think  it  utterly  absurd 
to  hold  such  an  opinion,  when  Scripture 
says:  "If  the  spirit  of  him  that  hath  power 
ascend  upon  thee ;  "  5  and  again :  "  When  the 
devil  had  put  it  into  the  heart  of  Simon 
Iscariot  to  betray  the  Lord."  6  How  then  can 
we  believe  that  our  thoughts  are  not  open  to 
them,  when  we  feel  that  for  the  most  part  they 
spring  up  and  are  nursed  by  their  suggestions 
and  instigation? 


1  1  Cor.  xv.  40,  44.  4  2  Chron.  vi.  30. 

2  Heb.  iv.  12,  13.  5  Eccl.  x.  4. 

3  Ps.  xxxii.  (xxxiii.)  15  ;  xliii.  (xliv.)  22.       G  S.  John  xiii.  2. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

The  answer  what  devils  can  and  what  they  cannot  do  in 
regard  to  the  thoughts  of  men. 

Serenus:  Nobody  doubts  that  unclean 
spirits  can  influence  the  character  of  our 
thoughts,  but  this  is  by  affecting  them  from 
without  by  sensible  influences,  i.e.,  either 
from  our  inclinations  or  from  our  words,  and 
those  likings  to  which  they  see  that  we  are 
especially  disposed.  But  they  cannot  possibly 
come  near  to  those  which  have  not  yet  come 
forth  from  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  soul. 
And  the  thoughts  too,  which  they  suggest, 
whether  they  are  actually  or  in  a  kind  of  way 
embraced,  are  discovered  by  them  not  from 
the  nature  of  the  soul  itself,  i.e.,  that  inner  in- 
clination which  lies  concealed  so  to  speak  in 
the  very  marrow,  but  from  motions  and  signs 
given  by  the  outward  man,  as  for  example, 
when  they  suggest  gluttony,  if  they  have  seen 
a  monk  raising  his  eyes  anxiously  to  the  win- 
dow or  to  the  sun,  or  inquiring  eagerly  what 
o'clock  it  is,  they  know  that  he  has  admitted 
the  feeling  of  greediness.  If  when  they 
suggest  fornication  they  find  him  calmly  sub- 
mitting to  the  attack  of  lust,  or  see  him  per- 
turbed in  body,  or  at  any  rate  not  groaning 
as  he  ought  under  the  wantonness  of  an  im- 
pure suggestion,  they  know  that  the  dart  of  lust 
is  already  fixed  in  his  very  soul.  If  they  stir 
up  incitements  to  grief,  or  anger,  or  rage,  they 
can  tell  whether  they  have  taken  root  in  the 
heart  by  the  movements  of  the  body,  and 
visible  disturbances,  when,  for  instance,  they 
have  noticed  him  either  groaning  silently,  or 
panting  with  indignation  or  changing  colour; 
and  so  they  cunningly  discover  the  fault  to 
which  he  is  given  over.  For  they  know  that 
every  one  of  us  is  enticed  in  a  regular  way  by 
that  one,  to  the  incitement  of  which  they  see, 
by  a  sort  of  assenting  motion  of  the  body,  that 
he  has  yielded  his  consent  and  agreement. 
And  it  is  no  wonder  that  this  is  discovered 
by  those  powers  of  the  air,  when  we  see  that 
even  clever  men  can  often  discover  the  state 
of  the  inner  man  from  his  mien  and  look  and 
external  bearing.  How  much  more  surely 
then  can  this  be  discovered  by  those  who  as 
being  of  a  spiritual  nature  are  certainly  much 
more  subtle  and  cleverer  than  men. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

An  illustration  showing  how  we  are  taught  that  unclean 
spirits  know  the  thoughts  of  men. 

For  just  as  some  thieves  are  in  the  habit 
of  examining  the  concealed  treasures  of  the 


368 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


men  in  those  houses  which  they  mean  to  rob, 
and  in  the  dark  shades  of  night  sprinkle  with 
careful  hands  little  grains  of  sand  and  discover 
the  hidden  treasures  which  they  cannot  see 
by  the  tinkling  sound  with  which  they  answer 
to  the  fall  of  the  sand,  and  so  arrive  at  certain 
knowledge  of  each  thing  and  metal,  which  be- 
trays itself  in  a  way  by  the  voice  elicited  from 
it;  so  these  too,  in  order  to  explore  the  trea- 
sures of  our  heart,  scatter  over  us  the  sand  of 
certain  evil  suggestions,  and  when  they  see 
some  bodily  affection  arise  corresponding  to 
their  character,  they  recognize  as  if  by  a  sort 
of  tinkling  sound  proceeding  from  the  inmost 
recesses,  what  it  is  that  is  stored  up  in  the 
secret  chamber  of  the  inner  man. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

On  the  fact  that  not  every  devil  has  the  power  of  suggesting 
every  passion  to'men. 

But  we  ought  to  know  this,  that  not  all 
devils  can  implant  all  the  passions  in  men, 
but  that  certain  spirits  brood  over  each  sin, 
and  that  some  gloat  over  uncleanness  and  filthy 
lusts,  others  over  blasphemy,  others  are  more 
particularly  devoted  to  anger  and  wrath, 
others  thrive  on  gloominess,  others  are  paci- 
fied with  vainglory  and  pride ;  and  each  one 
implants  in  the  hearts  of  men  that  sin,  in 
which  he  himself  revels,  and  they  cannot  im- 
plant their  special  vices  all  at  one  time,  but 
in  turn,  according  as  the  opportunity  of  time 
or  place,  or  a  man,  who  is  open  to  their 
suggestions,  excites  them. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


A  question  whether  among  the  devils  there  is  any  order 
observed  in  the  attack,  or  system  in  its  changes. 


Germanus  :  Must  we  then  believe  that 
wickedness  is  arranged  and  so  to  speak  sys- 
tematized among  them  in  such  a  way  that 
there  is  some  order  in  the  changes  observed 
by  them,  and  a  regular  plan  of  attack  carried 
out,  though  it  is  clear  that  method  and  system 
can  only  exist  among  good  and  upright  men, 
as  Scripture  says :  "  Thou  shalt  seek  wisdom 
ainong  the  ungodly  and  shalt  not  find  it;  " 
and:  "our  enemies  are  senseless;  "  and  this  : 
"  There  is  neither  wisdom,  nor  courage,  nor 
counsel  among  the  ungodly."  x 


1  Prov.  xiv.  6;  Deut.  xxxii.  31;  Prov.  xxi.  30  (LXX.). 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

The  answer  how  far  an  agreement  exists  among  devils  about 
the  attack  and  its  changes. 

Serenus  :  It  is  a  true  assertion  that  there  is 
no  lasting  concord  among  bad  men,  and  that 
perfect  harmony  cannot  exist  even  in  regard 
to  those  particular  faults  which  have  attrac- 
tions for  them  all  in  common.  For,  as  you 
have  said,  it  can  never  be  that  system  and 
discipline  are  preserved  ainong  undisciplined 
things.  But  in  some  matters,  where  commu- 
nity of  interests,  and  necessity  enforces  it,  or 
participation  in  some  gain  recommends  it,  they 
must  arrange  for  some  agreement  for  the  time 
being.  And  we  see  very  clearly  that  this  is 
so  in  the  case  of  this  war  of  spiritual  wicked- 
ness ;  so  that  not  only  do  they  observe  times 
and  changes  among  themselves,  but  actually 
are  known  specially  to  occupy  some  particular 
spots  and  to  haunt  them  persistently:  for  since 
they  must  make  their  attacks  through  certain 
fixed  temptations  and  well  defined  sins,  and 
at  particular  times,  we  clearly  infer  from  this 
that  no  one  can  at  one  and  at  the  same  time  be 
deluded  by  the  emptiness  of  vainglory  and 
inflamed  by  the  lust  of  fornication,  nor  at 
one  and  the  same  time  be  puffed  up  by  the  out- 
rageous haughtiness  of  spiritual  pride,  and 
subject  to  the  humiliation  of  carnal  gluttony. 
Nor  can  anyone  be  overcome  by  silly  giggling 
and  laughter  and  at  the  same  time  be  excited 
by  the  stings  of  anger,  or  at  any  rate  filled  with 
the  pains  of  gnawing  grief:  but  all  the  spirits 
must  one  by  one  advance  to  attack  the  soul, 
in  such  a  way  that  when  one  has  been  van- 
quished and  retreated,  he  must  make  way  for 
another  spirit  to  attack  it  still  more  vehe- 
mently, or  if  he  has  come  forth  victorious,  he 
will  none  the  less  hand  it  over  to  be  deceived 
by  another. 

CHAPTER   XX. 

Of  the  fact  that  opposite  powers  are  not  of  the  same  boldness, 
and  that  the  occasions  of  temptation  are  not  under  their 
control. 

We  ought  also  not  to  be  ignorant  of  this, 
that  they  have  not  all  the  same  fierceness  and 
energy,  nor  indeed  the  same  boldness  and 
malice,  and  that  with  beginners  and  feeble 
folk  only  the  weaker  spirits  join  battle,  and 
when  these  spiritual  wickednesses  are  beaten, 
then  gradually  the  assaults  of  stronger  ones 
are  made  against  the  athlete  of  Christ.  For 
in  proportion  to  a  man's  strength  and  pro- 
gress, is  the  difficulty  of  the  struggle  made 
greater:  for  none  of  the  saints  could  possibly 
be  equal  to  the  endurance  of  the  malice  of  so 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    SERENUS. 


369 


many  and  so  great  foes,  or  meet  their  attacks, 
or  even  bear  their  cruelty  and  savagery,  were 
it  not  that  the  merciful  judge  of  our  contest, 
and  president  of  the  games,  Christ  Himself, 
equalized  the  strength  of  the  Combatants,  and 
repelled  and  checked  their  excessive  attacks, 
and  made  with  the  temptation  a  way  of  escape 
as  well  that  we  might  be  able  to  bear  it. x 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Of  the  fact  that  devils  struggle  with  men  not  without  effort  on 
their  part. 

But  our  belief  is  that  they  undertake  this 
struggle  not  without  effort  on  their  part.  For 
in  their  conflict  they  themselves  have  some 
sort  of  anxiety  and  depression,  and  especially 
when  they  are  matched  with  stronger  rivals, 
i.e.,  saints  and  perfect  men.  Otherwise  no 
contest  or  struggle,  but  only  a  simple  decep- 
tion of  men,  and  one  free  from  anxiety  on 
their  part  would  be  assigned  to  them.  And 
how  then  would  the  Apostle's  words  stand, 
where  he  says :  "  We  wrestle  not  against  flesh 
and  blood,  but  against  principalities,  against 
powers,  against  world-rulers  of  this  darkness, 
against  spiritual  wickedness  in  heavenly 
places; "  and  this  too:  "  So  fight  I,  not  as  one 
that  beateth  the  air;"  and  again:  ''I  have 
fought  a  good  fight "  ? 2  For  where  it  is  spoken 
of  as  a  fight,  and  conflict,  and  battle,  there 
must  be  effort  and  exertion  andanxiety  on  both 
sides,  and  equally  there  must  either  be  in  store 
for  them  chagrin  and  confusion  for  their  fai- 
lure, or  delight  consequent  upon  their  victory. 
But  where  one  fights  with  ease  and  security 
against  another  who  struggles  with  great 
effort,  and  in  order  to  overthrow  his  rival 
makes  use  of  his  will  alone  as  his  strength, 
there  it  ought  not  to  be  called  a  battle, 
struggle,  or  strife,  but  a  sort  of  unfair  and  un- 
reasonable assault  and  attack.  But  they 
certainly  have  to  labour,  and  when  they  attack 
men,  exert  themselves  in  no  lesser  degree  in 
order  to  secure  from  each  one  that  victory 
which  they  want  to  obtain,  and  there  is  hurled 
back  upon  them  the  same  confusion  which 
was  awaiting  us  had  we  been  worsted  by  them ; 
as  it  is  said:  "The  head  of  their  compassing 
me  about,  the  labour  of  their  own  lips  shall 
overwhelm  them; "  and:  "  His  sorrow  shall  be 
turned  on  his  own  head;"  and  again:  "Let 
the  snare  which  he  knoweth  not  come  upon 
him,  and  let  the  net  which  he  hath  hidden 
catch  him,  and  into  that  very  snare  let  him 
fall ;  "  3  viz. ,  that  which  he  contrived  for  the  de- 


ception of  men.  They  then  themselves  also 
come  to  grief,  and  as  they  damage  us  so  are 
they  also  in  like  manner  damaged  by  us,  nor 
when  they  are  worsted  do  they  depart  without 
confusion,  and  seeing  these  defeats  of  theirs 
and  their  struggles,  one  who  had  good  eyes  in 
his  inner  man,  seeing  also  that  they  gloated 
over  the  downfall  and  mischances  of  indivi- 
duals, and  fearing  lest  his  own  case  might 
furnish  them  with  this  kind  of  delight,  prayed 
to  the  Lord  saying:  "Lighten  mine  eyes  that 
I  sleep  not  in  death:  lest  mine  enemy  say,  I 
have  prevailed  against  him.  They  that  trouble 
me  will  rejoice  if  I  be  moved;"  and:  "O  My 
God,  let  them  not  rejoice  over  me;  let  them 
not  say  in  their  hearts,  Aha,  Aha,  our  very 
wish;  neither  let  them  say,  we  have  devoured 
him;"  and:  "They  gnashed  their  teeth  upon 
me.  Lord,  how  long  wilt  Thou  look  on  this  ?  " 
for:  "he  lieth  in  wait  secretly  as  a  lion  in  his 
den :  he  lieth  in  wait  to  ravish  the  poor ;  "  and : 
"He  seeketh  from  God  his  meat."4  And 
again  when  all  their  efforts  are  exhausted,  and 
they  have  failed  to  secure  our  deception,  they 
must  "be  confounded  and  blush"  at  the  fai- 
lure of  their  efforts,  "who  seek  our  souls  to 
destroy  them :  and  let  them  be  covered  with 
shame  and  confusion  who  imagine  evil  against 
us."  5  Jeremiah  also  says:  "Let  them  be  con- 
founded, and  let  not  me  be  confounded:  let 
them  be  afraid,  and  let  not  me  be  afraid : 
bring  upon  them  the  fury  of  Thy  wrath,  and 
with  a  double  destruction  destroy  them."  °  For 
no  one  can  doubt  that  when  they  are  van- 
quished by  us  they  will  be  destroyed  with  a 
double  destruction :  first,  because  while  men 
are  seeking  after  holiness,  they,  though  they 
possessed  it,  lost  it,  and  became  the  cause 
of  man's  ruin;  secondly,  because  being  spi- 
ritual existences,  they  have  been  vanquished 
by  carnal  and  earthly  ones.  Each  one  then 
of  the  saints  when  he  looks  on  the  destruction 
of  his  foes  and  his  own  triumphs,  exclaims 
with  delight:  "I  will  follow  after  mine  ene- 
mies and  overtake  them :  and  I  will  not  turn 
until  they  are  destroyed.  I  will  break  them 
and  they  shall  not  be  able  to  stand:  they 
shall  fall  under  my  feet,"7  and  in  his  prayers 
against  them  the  same  prophet  says:  "Judge 
thou,  O  Lord,  them  that  wrong  me :  overthrow 
them  that  fight  against  me.  Take  hold  of 
arms  and  shield:  and  rise  up  to  help  me. 
Bring  out  the  sword  and  shut  up  the  way 
against  them  that  persecute  me :  say  to  my 
soul,  I   am   thy    salvation."8     And   when  by 


Cor.  x.  13.  2  Eph.  vi.  12  ;   1  Cor.  ix.  26 ;  2  Tim.  iv. 

3  Ps.  cxxxix.  (cxl.)  10;  vii.  17;  xxxiv.  (xxxv.)  S. 


4  Ps.  xii.  (xiii.)  4,  5;   xxxiv.  (xxxv.)  24,  28;   16,  17;  ix.  (x.)  9; 
ciii.  (civ.)  21. 

5  Ps.  xxxix.  (xl.)  15;  xxxiv.  (xxxv.)  26;  xxxix.  (xl.),  15. 

c  Jer.  xvii.  18.  7  Ps.  xvii.  (xviii.)  38,  39. 

8  Ps.  xxiv.  (xxxv.)  1-3. 


3/0 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


subduing  and  destroying  all  our  passions  we 
have  vanquished  these,  we  shall  then  be  per- 
mitted to  hear  those  words  of  blessing:  "Thy 
hand  shall  be  exalted  over  thine  enemies, 
and  all  thine  enemies  shall  perish."1  And 
so  when  we  read  or  chant  all  these  and  such 
like  passages  found  in  holy  writ,  unless  we 
take  them  as  written  against  those  spiritual 
wickednesses  which  lie  in  wait  for  us  night 
and  day,  we  shall  not  only  fail  to  draw  from 
them  any  edification  to  make  us  gentle  and 
patient,  but  shall  actually  meet  with  some 
dreadful  consequence  and  one  that  is  quite 
contrary  to  evangelical  perfection.  For  we 
shall  not  only  not  be  taught  to  pray  for  or  to 
love  our  enemies,  but  actually  shall  be  stirred 
up  to  hate  them  with  an  implacable  hatred, 
and  to  curse  them  and  incessantly  to  pour 
forth  prayers  against  them.  And  it  is  terribly 
wrong  and  blasphemous  to  think  that  these 
words  were  uttered  in  such  a  spirit  by  holy 
men  and  friends  of  God,  on  whom  before  the 
coming  of  Christ  the  law  was  not  imposed 
for  the  very  reason  that  they  went  beyond  its 
commands,  and  chose  rather  to  obey  the  pre- 
cepts of  the  gospel  and  to  aim  at  apostolical 
perfection,  though  they  lived  before  the  dis- 
pensation of  the  time. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

On  the  fact  that  the  power  to  hurt  does  not  depend  upon  the 
will  of  the  devils^ 

But  that  they  have  not  the  power  of  hurting 
any  man  is  shown  in  a  very  clear  way  by  the 
instance  of  the  blessed  Job,  where  the  enemy 
did  not  venture  to  try  him  beyond  what  was 
allowed  to  him  by  the  Divine  permission; 
and  it  is  evidenced  by  the  confession  of  the 
same  spirits  contained  in  the  records  of  the 
gospel,  where  they  say :  "  If  Thou  cast  us  out, 
suffer  us  to  go  into  the  herd  of  swine.'' 2  And 
far  more  must  we  hold  that  they  cannot  of 
their  own  free  will  enter  into  any  one  of  men 
who  are  created  in  the  image  of  God,  if  they 
have  not  power  to  enter  into  dumb  and  un- 
clean animals  without  the  permission  of  God. 
But  no  one  —  I  will  not  say  of  the  younger 
men,  whom  we  see  living  most  steadfastly  in 
this  desert,  but  even  of  those  who  are  perfect  — 
could  live  alone  in  the  desert,  surrounded  by 
such  swarms  of  foes  of  this  kind,  if  they  had 
unlimited  power  and  freedom  to  hurt  and 
tempt  us :  and  still  more  clearly  is  this  sup- 
ported by  the  words  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour, 
which  in  the  lowliness  of  the  manhood  He 
had  assumed,  He  uttered  to  Pilate,  when  He 


1  Micah  v.  9. 


S.  Matt.  viii.  31. 


said :  "  Thou  couldest  have  no  power  against 
Me  at  all,  unless  it  were  given  thee  from 
above."  3 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Of  the  diminished  power  of  the  devils. 

But  we  have  thoroughly  discovered  both  by 
our  own  experience  and  by  the  testimony  of 
the  Elders  that  the  devils  have  not  now  the 
same  power  as  they  had  formerly  during  the 
early  days  of  the  anchorites,  when  yet  there 
were  only  a  few  monks  living  in  the  desert. 
For  such  was  their  fierceness  that  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  a  few  very  steadfast  men,  and 
those  advanced  in  years  were  able  to  endure 
a  life  of  solitude.  Since  in  the  actual  mo- 
nasteries where  eight  or  ten  men  used  to  live, 
their  violence  attacked  them  so  and  their  as- 
saults were  experienced  so  frequently,  and 
so  visibly,  that  they  did  not  dare  all  to  go 
to  bed  at  once  by  night,  but  took  turns  and 
while  some  snatched  a  little  sleep,  others  kept 
watch  and  devoted  themselves  to  Psalms  and 
prayer  and  reading.  And  when  the  wants  of 
nature  compelled  them  to  sleep,  they  awoke 
the  others,  and  committed  to  them  in  like 
manner  the  duty  of  keeping  watch  over  those 
who  were  going  to  bed.  Whence  we  cannot 
doubt  that  one  of  two  things  has  brought  about 
this  result  not  only  in  the  case  of  us  who  seem 
to  be  fairly  strong  from  the  experience  which 
our  age  gives  us,  but  also  in  the  case  of 
younger  men  as  well.  For  either  the  malice 
of  the  devils  has  been  beaten  back  by  the 
power  of  the  cross  penetrating  even  to  the 
desert,  and  by  its  grace  which  shines  every- 
where; or  else  our  carelessness  makes  them 
relax  something  of  their  first  onslaught,  as 
they  scorn  to  attack  us  with  the  same  energy 
with  which  they  formerly  raged  against  those 
most  admirable  soldiers  of  Christ;  and  by 
this  deceit  and  ceasing  from  open  attacks 
they  do  us  still  more  damage.  For  we  see 
that  some  have  fallen  into  so  sluggish  a  con- 
dition that  they  have  to  be  coaxed  by  too 
gentle  exhortations  for  fear  lest  they  should 
forsake  their  cells  and  fall  into  more  danger- 
ous troubles,  and  wander  and  stray  about  and 
be  entangled  in  what  I  would  call  grosser 
sins;  and  it  is  thought  that  a  great  thing  is 
got  from  them  if  they  can  even  with  some  list- 
lessness  remain  in  the  desert  and  the  Elders 
often  say  to  them  as  a  great  relief:  Stop  in 
your  cells,  and  eat  and  drink  and  sleep  as 
much  as  you  like,4  if  only  you  will  stay  in 
them  always. 


s  S.  John  xix.  n. 

4  So  centuries  later  it  is  told  of  a  Jesuit  father  that  when  one 
wanted  to  relax  the  strictness  of  his  fast,  he  replied,  "  Eat  an  ox, 
but  be  a  Christian." 


FIRST   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   SERENUS. 


71 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Of  the  way  in  which  the  devils  prepare  for  themselves  an 
entrance  into  the  bodies  of  those  whom  they  are  going 
to  possess. 

It  is  clear  then  that  unclean  spirits  cannot 
make  their  way  into  those  whose  bodies  they 
are  going  to  seize  upon,  in  any  other  way  than 
by  first  taking  possession  of  their  minds  and 
thoughts.  And  when  they  have  robbed  them 
of  fear  and  the  recollection  of  God  and  spirit- 
ual meditation,  they  boldly  advance  upon 
them,  as  if  they  were  dispossessed  of  all  pro- 
tection and  Divine  safeguard,  and  could 
easily  be  bound,  and  then  take  up  their  dwell- 
ing in  them  as  if  in  a  possession  given  over 
to  them. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

On  the  fact  that  those  men  are  more  wretched  who  are  pos- 
sessed by  sins  than  those  who  are  possessed  by  devils. 

Although  it  is  a  fact  that  those  men  are 
more  grievously  and  severely  troubled,  who, 
while  they  seem  to  be  very  little  affected  by 
them  in  the  body,  are  yet  possessed  in  spirit 
in  a  far  worse  way,  as  they  are  entangled  in 
their  sins  and  lusts.  For  as  the  Apostle 
says :  "  Of  whom  a  man  is  overcome,  of  him  he 
is  also  the  servant."  Only  that  in  this  respect 
they  are  more  dangerously  ill,  because  though 
they  are  their  slaves,  yet  they  do  not  know 
that  they  are  assaulted  by  them,  and  under 
their  dominion.  But  we  know  that  even 
saintly  men  have  been  given  over  in  the  flesh 
to  Satan  and  to  great  afflictions  for  some  very 
slight  faults,  since  the  Divine  mercy  will  not 
suffer  the  very  least  spot  or  stain  to  be  found 
in  them  on  the  day  of  judgment,  and  purges 
away  in  this  world  every  spot  of  their  filth,  as 
the  prophet,  or  rather  God  Himself  says,  in 
order  that  He  may  commit  them  to  eternity  as 
gold  or  silver  refined  and  needing  no  penal 
purification.  "And,"  says  He,  "I  will  clean 
purge  away  thy  dross,  and  I  will  take  away 
all  thy  tin ;  and  after  this  thou  shalt  be  called 
the  city  of  the  just,  a  faithful  city."  And 
again :  "  Like  as  silver  and  gold  are  tried  in 
the  furnace,  so  the  Lord  chooseth  the  hearts ;  " 
And  again:  "The  fire  tries  gold  and  silver; 
but  man  is  tried  in  the  furnace  of  humilia- 
tion;" and  this  also:  "  For  whom  the  Lord 
loveth  He  chasteneth,  and  scourgeth  every 
son  whom  He  receiveth."  1 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

Of  the  death  of  the  prophet  who  was  led  astray,  and  of  the 
infirmity  of  the  Abbot  Paul,  with  which  he  was  visited  for 
the  sake  of  his  cleansing. 

And  we  see  clear  instance  of  this  in  the 
case  of  that  prophet  and  man  of  God  in  the 
third  book  of  Kings,  who  was  straightway 
destroyed  by  a  lion  for  a  single  fault  of  dis- 
obedience, in  which  he  was  implicated  not  of 
set  purpose  nor  by  the  fault  of  his  own  will  but 
by  the  enticement  of  another,  as  the  Scripture 
speaks  thus  of  him :  "  It  is  the  man  of  God, 
who  was  disobedient  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  Lord  delivered  him  to  the  lion, 
i  and  it  tare  him  according  to,  the  word  of  the 
Lord,  which  He  spake."  a  In  which  case  the 
punishment  of  the  present  offence  and  care- 
lessness together  with  the  reward  of  his  right- 
eousness, for  which  the  Lord  gave  over  his 
prophet  in  this  world  to  the  destroyer,  are 
shown  by  the  moderation  and  abstinence  of 
the  beast  of  prey,  as  that  most  savage  creature 
did  not  dare  even  to  taste  the  carcass  that 
was  given  over  to  him.  And  of  the  same 
thing  a  very  clear  and  plain  proof  has  been 
given  in  our  own  days  in  the  case  of  the 
Abbots  Paul  and  Moses  who  lived  in  a  spot 
in  this  desert  called  Calamus,3  for  the  former 
had  formerly  dwelt  in  the  wilderness  which 
is  hard  by  the  city  of  Panephysis,4  which  we 
know  had  only  recently  been  made  a  wilder- 
ness by  an  inundation  of  salt  water;  which 
whenever  the  north  wind  blew,  was  driven 
from  the  marshes  and  spreading  over  the 
adjacent  fields  covered  the  face  of  the  whole 
district,  so  as  to  make  the  ancient  villages, 
which  on  this  very  account  had  been  deserted 
by  all  their  inhabitants,  look  like  islands. 
Here,  then,  the  Abbot  Paul  had  made  such 
progress  in  purity  of  heart  in  the  stillness  and 
silence  of  the  desert,  that  he  did  not  suffer,  I 
will  not  say  a  woman's  face,  but  even  the 
clothes  of  one  of  that  sex  to  appear  in  his 
sight.  For  when  as  he  was  going  to  the  cell 
of  one  of  the  Elders  together  with  Abbot 
Archebius 5  who  lived  in  the  same  desert,  by 
accident  a  woman  met  him,  he  was  so  dis- 
gusted at  meeting  her  that  he  dropped  the 
business  of  his  friendly  visit  which  he  had 
taken  in  hand  and  dashed  back  again  to 
his  own  monastery  with  greater  speed  than  a 
man  would  flee  from  the  face  of  a  lion  or 
terrible  dragon;  so  that  he  was  not  moved 
even  by  the  shouts  and  prayers  of  the  afore- 
said Abbot  Archebius  who  called  him  back  to 


1  Is.  i.  25,   26;  Prov.  xvii.  3  (LXX.);  Ecclus.ii.  5 


I  2  1  Kings  xiii.  26.  4  Cf .  on  the  Institutes  IV.  xxx. 

Heb.  xii.  6.  \  3  Cf.  on  the  Institutes  X.  xxiv.   G  On  Archebius  cf.  the  note  on  XI.  ii. 


37* 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


go  on  with  the  journey  they  had  undertaken 
to  ask  the  old  man  what  they  had  proposed  to 
do.  But  though  this  was  done  in  his  eager- 
ness for  chastity  and  desire  for  purity,  yet 
because  it  was  done  not  according  to  know- 
ledge, and  because  the  observance  of  disci- 
pline, and  the  methods  of  proper  strictness 
were  overstrained,  for  he  imagined  that  not 
merely  familiarity  with  a  woman  (which  is  the 
real  harm,)  but  even  the  very  form  of  that  sex 
was  to  be  execrated,  he  was  forthwith  over- 
taken by  such  a  punishment  that  his  whole 
body  was  struck  with  paralysis,  and  none  of 
his  limbs  were  able  to  perform  their  proper 
functions,  since  not  merely  his  hands  and 
feet,  but  even  the  movements  of  the  tongue, 
which  enables  us  to  frame  our  words,  (were 
affected)  and  his  very  ears  lost  the  sense  of 
hearing,  so  that  there  was  left  in  him  nothing 
more  of  his  manhood  than  an  immovable  and 
insensible  figure.  But  he  was  reduced  to 
such  a  condition  that  the  utmost  care  of  men 
was  unable  to  minister  to  his  infirmity,  but 
only  the  tender  service  of  women  could  attend 
to  his  wants:  for  when  he  was  taken  to  a  con- 
vent of  holy  virgins,  food  and  drink,  which 
he  could  not  ask  for  even  by  signs,  were 
brought  to  him  by  female  attendants,  and  for 
the  performance  of  all  that  nature  required 
he  was  ministered  to  by  the  same  service  for 
nearly  four  years,  i.e.,  to  the  end  of  his  life. 
And  though  he  was  affected  by  such  weakness 
of  all  his  members  that  none  of  his  limbs 
retained  their  keen  power  of  motion  and  feel- 
ing, nevertheless  such  grace  of  goodness  pro- 
ceeded from  him  that  when  sick  persons  were 
anointed  with  the  oil  which  had  touched 
what  should  be  called  his  corpse  rather  than 
his  body,  they  were  instantly  healed  of  all 
diseases,  so  that  as  regards  his  own  malady  it 
was  made  clearly  and  plainly  evident  even  to 
unbelievers  that  the  infirmity  of  all  his  limbs 
was  caused  by  the  providence  and  love  of  the 
Lord,  and  that  the  grace  of  these  healings 
was  granted  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
as  a  witness  of  his  purity  and  a  manifestation 
of  his  merits. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

On  the  temptation  of  Abbot  Moses. 

But  the  second  person  whom  we  mentioned 
as  living  in  this  desert,  although  he  was  also  a 
remarkable  and  striking  man,  yet,  in  order  to 
punish  a  single  word,  to  which  in  a  dispute 
with  Abbot  Macarius,1  he  had  given  utterance 


1  On  Macarius  see  the  note  on  th;  Institutes  V.  xli. 


somewhat  too  sharply,  as  he  was  anticipated 
in  some  opinion,  he  was  instantly  delivered 
to  so  dreadful  a  demon  that  he  filled  his 
mouth  with  filth'2  which  he  supplied,  and  the 
Lord  showed  by  the  quickness  of  his  cure, 
and  the  author  of  his  healing,  that  He  had 
brought  this  scourge  upon  him  to  purify  him, 
that  there  might  not  remain  in  him  any  stain 
from  his  momentary  error:  for  as  soon  as 
Abbot  Macarius  committed  himself  to  prayer, 
quicker  than  a  word  the  evil  spirit  fled  away 
from  him  and  departed. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

How  we  ought  not  to  despise  those  who  are  delivered  up  to 
unclean  spirits. 

From  which  it  plainly  results  that  we  ought 
not  to  hate  or  despise  those  whom  we  see  to 
be  delivered  up  to  various  temptations  or  to 
those  spirits  of  evil,  because  we  ought  firmly 
to  hold  these  two  points :  first,  that  none  of 
them  can  be  tempted  at  all  by  them  without 
God's  permission,  and  secondly  that  all  things 
which  are  brought  upon  us  by  God,  whether 
they  seem  to  us  at  the  present  time  to  be  sad 
or  joyful,  are  inflicted  for  our  advantage  as  by 
a  most  kind  father  and  most  compassionate 
physician,  and  that  therefore  men  are,  as  it 
were,  given  into  the  charge  of  schoolmasters, 
and  humbled  in  order  that  when  they  depart 
out  of  this  world  they  may  be  removed  in  a 
state  of  greater  purity  to  the  other  life,  or 
have  a  lighter  punishment  inflicted  on  them, 
as  they  have  been,  as  the  Apostle  says, 
delivered  over  at  the  present  time  "  to  Satan 
for  the  destruction  of  the  flesh  that  the  spirit 
may  be  saved  in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus. ' '  8 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

An  objection,  asking  why  those  who  are  tormented  by  unclean 
spirits  are  separated  from  the  Lord's  communion. 

Germanus  :  And  how  is  it  that  we  see 
them  not  only  scorned  and  shunned  by  every- 
body, but  actually  always  kept  away  from  the 
Lord's  communion  in  our  provinces,  in  accord- 
ance with  these  words  of  the  gospel :  "  Give 
not  that  which  is  holy  to  the  dogs,  neither  cast 
your  pearls  before  swine;  "  4  while  you  tell  us 
that  somehow  we  ought  to  hold  that  the 
humiliation  of  this  temptation  is  brought 
upon  them  with  a  view  to  their  purification 
and  profit  ? 


Humanas  egestiones.        3  i  Cor.  v.  5.        4  S.  Matt.  vii.  6. 


FIRST   CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    SERENUS. 


373 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

The  answer  to  the  question  raised. 

Serenus:  If  we  had  this  knowledge  or 
rather  faith,  of  which  I  treated  above;  viz., 
to  believe  that  all  things  were  brought  about 
by  God,  and  ordered  for  the  good  of  our  souls, 
we  should  not  only  never  despise  them,  but 
rather  pray  without  ceasing  for  them  as  our 
own  members,  and  sympathize  with  them  with 
all  our  hearts  and  the  fullest  affection  (for 
"when  one  member  suffers,  all  the  members 
suffer  with  it"1),  as  we  know  that  we  cannot 
possibly  be  perfected  without  them  inasmuch 
as  the)^  are  members  of  us,  just  as  we  read 
that  our  predecessors  could  not  attain  the 
fulness  of  promise  without  us,  as  the  Apostle 
speaks  of  them  as  follows:  "And  these  all 
being  approved  by  the  testimony  of  faith, 
received  not  the  promise,  God  providing  some 
better  thing  for  us  that  they  should  not  be 
perfected  without  us. "  2  But  we  never  remem- 
ber that  holy  communion  was  forbidden  them ; 
nay  rather  if  it  were  possible,  they  thought 
that  it  ought  to  be  given  to  them  daily ;  nor 
indeed  according  to  the  words  of  the  gospel 
which  you  incongruously  apply  in  this  sense 
"  Give  not  that  which  is  holy  to  dogs, "  3  ought 
we  to  believe  that  holy  communion  becomes 
food  for  the  demon,  and  not  a  purification 
and  safeguard  of  body  and  soul ;  for  when  it 
is  received  by  a  man  it,  so  to  speak,  burns 
out  and  puts  to  flight  the  spirit  which  has 
its  seat  in  his  members  or  is  trying  to  lurk 
in  them.  P'or  in  this  way  we  have  lately  seen 
Abbot  Andronicus  and  many  others  cured. 
For  the  enemy  will  more  and  more  abuse  the 
man  who  is  possessed,  if  he  sees  him  cut  off 
from  the  heavenly  medicine,  and  will  tempt 
him  more  often  and  more  fearfully,  as  he  sees 
him  removed  the  further  from  this  spiritual 
remedy.4 

CHAPTER   XXXI. 

On  the  fact  that  those  men  are  more  to  be  pitied  to  whom  it 
is  not  given  to  be  subjected  to  those  temporal  temptations. 

But  we  ought  to  consider  those  men  truly 
wretched  and  miserable  in  whose  case,  al- 
though they  defile  themselves  with  all  kinds 
of  sins  and  wickedness,  yet  not  only  is  there 
no  visible  sign  of  the  devil's  possession 
shown  in  them,  nor  is  any  temptation  propor- 


1  i  Cor.  xii.  26.  2  Heb.  xi.  39,  40.  3  S.  Matt.  vii.  6. 

4  The  question  whether  the  Holy  Communion  should  ever  be 
given  to  those  possessed  is  discussed  by  S.  Thomas  Aquinas,  in  the 
Summa  III.  Q.  lxxx.  Art.  9,  and  answered  in  the  affirmative,  the 
authorities  quoted  in  its  favour  being  this  passage  from  Cassian,  and 
the  third  Canon  of  the  1st  Council  of  Orange  (A.D.  441). 


tionate  to  their  actions,  nor  any  scourge  of 
punishment  brought  to  bear  upon  them.  For 
they  are  vouchsafed  no  swift  and  immediate 
remedy  in  this  v/orld,  whose  "hardness  and 
impenitent  heart,"  being  too  much  for  punish- 
ment in  this  life,  "heapeth  up  for  itself  wrath 
and  indignation  in  the  day  of  wrath  and  reve- 
lation of  the  righteous  judgment  of  God," 
"where  their  worm  dieth  not,  and  their  fire  is 
not  quenched."5  Against  whom  the  prophet 
as  if  perplexed  at  the  affliction  of  the  saints, 
when  he  sees  them  subject  to  various  losses 
and  temptations,  and  on  the  other  hand  sees 
sinners  not  only  passing  through  the  course 
of  this  world  without  any  scourge  of  humilia- 
tion, but  even  rejoicing  in  great  riches,  and 
the  utmost  prosperity  in  everything,  inflamed 
with  uncontrollable  indignation  and  fervour  of 
spirit,  exclaims :  "  But  as  for  me,  my  feet  had 
almost  gone,  my  treadings  had  well  nigh 
slipped.  For  I  was  grieved  at  the  wicked, 
when  I  saw  the  peace  of  sinners.  For  there 
is  no  regard  to  their  death,  nor  is  there 
strength  in  their  stripes.  They  are  not  in  the 
labour  of  men,  neither  shall  they  be  scourged 
like  other  men,"  °  since  hereafter  they  shall  be 
punished  with  the  devils,  to  whom  in  this 
world  it  was  not  vouchsafed  to  be  scourged 
in  the  lot  and  discipline  of  sons,  together  with 
men.  Jeremiah  also,  when  conversing  with 
God  on  this  prosperity  of  sinners,  although  he 
never  professes  to  doubt  about  the  justice  of 
God,  as  he  says  "for  Thou  art  just,  O  Lord, 
if  I  dispute  with  Thee,"  yet  in  his  inquiry 
as  to  the  reasons  of  this  inequality,  proceeds 
to  say:  "But  yet  I  will  speak  what  is  just 
to  Thee.  Why  doth  the  way  of  the  wicked 
prosper?  Why  is  it  well  with  all  them 
that  transgress  and  do  wickedly?  Thou  hast 
planted  them  and  they  have  taken  root :  they 
prosper  and  bring  forth  fruit.  Thou  art  near 
in  their  mouth  and  far  from  their  reins."7 
And  when  the  Lord  mourns  for  their  destruc- 
tion by  the  prophet,  and  anxiously  directs 
doctors  and  physicians  to  heal  them,  and  in  a 
manner  urges  them  on  to  a  similar  lamenta- 
tion and  says:  "Babylon  is  suddenly  fallen: 
she  is  destroyed.  Howl  for  her :  take  balm  for 
her  pain,  if  so  she  may  be  healed ;  "  then,  in 
their  despair,  the  angels,  to  whom  is  entrusted 
the  care  of  man's  salvation,  make  reply;  or  at 
any  rate  the  prophet  in  the  person  of  the 
Apostles  and  spiritual  men  and  doctors  who 
see  the  hardness  of  their  soul,  and  their  im- 
penitent heart:  "We  have  healed  Babylon: 
but  she  is  not  cured.  Let  us  forsake  her, 
and  let  us  go  every  man  to  his  own  land 
because  her  judgment  hath  reached  even  to 


c  Rom.  ii.  5  ;  Is.  lxvi.  24.     •  Ps.  lxxii.  (lxxiii.)  2-5.     7  Jer.  xii.  1,  2. 


374 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


the  heavens,  and  is  lifted  up  to  the  clouds."1 
Of  their  desperate  feebleness  then  Isaiah 
speaks  in  the  Person  of  God  to  Jerusalem : 
"  From  the  sole  of  the  foot  unto  the  top  of  the 
head  there  is  no  soundness  therein :  wounds 
and  bruises  and  swelling  sores:  they  are  not 
bound  up  nor  dressed  nor  fermented  with  oil."  2 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

Of  the  different  desires  and  wishes  which  exist  in  the  powers 
of  the  air. 

But  it  is  clearly  proved  that  there  exist  in 
unclean  spirits  as  many  desires  as  there  are  in 
men.  For  some  of  them,  which  are  com- 
monly called  Plani,8  are  shown  to  be  so 
seductive  and  sportive  that,  when  they  have 
taken  continual  possession  of  certain  places  or 
roads,  they  delight  themselves  not  indeed  with 
tormenting  the  passers  by  whom  they  can 
deceive,  but,  contenting  themselves  merely 
with  laughing  at  them  and  mocking  them, 
try  to  tire  them  out  rather  than  to  injure 
them :  while  some  spend  the  night  merely  by 
harmlessly  taking  possession  of  men,  though 
others  are  such  slaves  to  fury  and  ferocity  that 
they  are  not  simply  content  with  hurting  the 
bodies  of  those,  of  whom  they  have  taken 
possession,  by  tearing  them  in  a  dreadful 
manner,  but  actually  are  eager  to  rush  upon 
those  who  are  passing  by  at  a  distance,  and  to 
attack  them  with  most  savage  slaughter:  like 
those  described  in  the  gospel,  for  fear  of 
whom  no  man  dared  to  pass  by  that  way. 
And  there  is  no  doubt  that  these  and  such  as 
these  in  their  insatiable  fury  delight  in  wars 
and  bloodshed.  Others  we  find  affect  the 
hearts  of  those  whom  they  have  seized  with 
empty  pride,  (and  these  are  commonly  called 
Bacucei 4 )  so  that  they  stretch  themselves  up 
beyond  their  proper  height  and  at  one  time 
puff  themselves  up  with  arrogance  and  pom- 
posity, and  at  another  time  condescend  in  an 
ordinary  and  bland  manner,  to  a  state  of  calm- 
ness and  affability:  and  as  they  fancy  that 
they  are  great  people  and  the  wonder  of  every- 
body, at  one  time  show  by  bowing  their  body 
that  they  are  worshipping  higher  powers,  while 
at  another  time  they  think  that  they  are  wor- 
shipped by  others,  and  so  go  through  all  those 
movements  which  express  true  service  either 
proudly  or  humbly.  Others  we  find  are  not 
only  keen  for  lies,  but  also  inspire  men  with 
blasphemies.     And  of   this  we  ourselves  can 


1  Jer.  li.  8,  9.  2  Is.  i.  6. 

3  "  nAaroi,"   "  Seducers,"  if  the  reading  be  correct:  but  some 
MSS.  have  "  Fauni." 

4  The  origin  of  this  term  is  obscure. 


testify  as  we  have  heard  a  demon  openly  con- 
fessing that  he  had  proclaimed  a  wicked  and 
impious  doctrine  by  the  mouths  of  Arius  and 
Eunomius.  And  the  same  thing  we  read  that 
one  of  them  openly  proclaimed  in  the  fourth 
book  of  Kings:  "I  will  go  forth,'"  he  said, 
"and  will  be  a  lying  spirit  in  the  mouth  of 
all  his  prophets."5  On  which  the  Apostle, 
when  reproving  those  who  are  deceived  by 
them,  adds  as  follows:  "giving  heed  to  sedu- 
cing spirits  and  doctrines  of  devils  speaking 
lies  in  hypocrisy."  6  And  that  there  are  other 
kinds  of  devils  which  are  deaf  and  dumb  the 
gospels  testify.  And  that  some  spirits  incite 
to  lust  and  wantonness  the  prophet  maintains 
saying:  "The  spirit  of  fornication  deceived 
them  and  they  went  astray  from  their  God."  " 
In  the  same  way  the  authority  of  Scripture 
teaches  us  that  there  are  demons  of  the  night 
and  of  the  day  and  of  the  noonday : 8  But  it 
would  take  too  long  to  search  through  the 
whole  of  Scripture  and  run  through  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  them,  as  they  are  termed  by  the 
prophets  onocentaurs,  satyrs,  sirens,  witches, 
howlers,  ostriches,  urchins;  and  asps  and 
basilisks  in  the  Psalms;  and  are  called  lions, 
dragons,  scorpions  in  the  gospel,  and  are 
named  by  the  Apostle  the  prince  of  this  world, 
rulers  of  this  darkness,  and  spirits  of  wicked- 
ness.9 And  all  these  names  we  ought  not  to 
take  as  given  at  random  or  hap-hazard,  but 
as  alluding  to  their  fierceness  and  madness 
under  the  sign  of  those  wild  beasts  which  are 
more  or  less  harmful  and  dangerous  among  us, 
and  by  comparing  them  to  the  poisonous 
wickedness  or  power  which  among  other 
beasts  or  serpents,  some  pre-eminence  in  evil 
confers  on  them,  they  are  called  by  their 
names,  in  such  a  way  that  to  one  is  assigned 
the  name  of  lion  because  of  the  fury  of  his 
rage  and  the  madness  of  his  anger,  to  another 
that  of  basilisk  because  of  his  deadly  poison, 
which  kills  a  person  before  it  is  perceived, 
and  to  another  that  of  onocentaur  or  urchin 
or  ostrich  because  of  his  sluggish  malice. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

A  question  as  to  the  origin  of  such  differences  in  powers  of 
evil  in  the  sky. 

Germanus  :  We  certainly  do  not  doubt  that 
those  orders  which  the  Apostle  enumerates 
refer  to  them :  "  For  we  wrestle  not  against 
flesh   and   blood,    but  against  principalities, 


5  1  Kings  xxii.  22.  7  Hos.  iv.  12. 

6  1  Tim.  iv.  1,  2.  8  Ps.  xc.  (xci.)  5,  6. 

9  Cf.  Is.  xiii.  21,  22;  xxxiv.  13,  15;  Ps.  xc.  (xci.)  13;  S.  Luke 
x.  19;  S.Johnxiv.  30.    Eph.  vi.  12. 


THE  SECOND  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  SERENUS. 


375 


against  powers,  against  the  world-rulers  of 
this  darkness,  against  spirits  of  wickedness  in 
heavenly  places :  "  x  but  we  want  to  know 
whence  comes  such  a  difference  between  them, 
or  how  such  grades  of  wickedness  exist? 
Were  they  created  for  this,  to  meet  with  these 
orders  of  evil,  and  in  some  way  to  serve  this 
wickedness? 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

The  postponement  of  the  answer  to  the  question  raised. 

Serenus:  Although  your  proposals  would 
rob  us  of  our  whole  night's  rest,  so  that  we 
should  not  notice  the  approach  of  the  rising 
dawn,  and  should  be  tempted  greedily  to 
prolong  our  conference  till  sunrise,  yet  since 
the   solving   of    the   question   raised,    if  we 


began  to  trace  it  out,  would  launch  us  on  a 
wide  and  deep  sea  of  questions,  which  the 
shortness  of  the  time  at  our  disposal  would 
not  permit  us  to  traverse,  I  think  it  will  be 
more  convenient  to  reserve  it  for  consider- 
ation another  night,  when  by  the  raising  of 
this  question  I  shall  receive  from  your  very 
ready  converse  some  spiritual  joy  and  richer 
fruit,  and  we  shall  be  able  if  the  Holy  Spirit 
grants  us  a  prosperous  breeze  to  penetrate 
more  freely  into  the  intricacies  of  the  ques- 
tions raised.  Wherefore  let  us  enjoy  a  little 
sleep,  and  so  shake  off  the  drowsiness  that 
steals  over  our  eyes,  as  the  dawn  approaches, 
and  then  we  will  go  together  to  church,  for 
the  observance  of  Sunday  bids  us  do  this,  and 
after  service  will  come  back,  and  as  you  wish, 
discuss  with  redoubled  delight  what  the  Lord 
may  have  given  to  us  for  our  common  im- 
provement. 


VIII. 
THE  SECOND  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  SERENUS. 


ON  PRINCIPALITIES. 


CHAPTER   I. 

Of  the  hospitality  of  Abbot  Serenus. 

When  we  had  finished  the  duties  of  the 
day,  and  the  congregation  had  been  dis- 
missed from  Church  we  returned  to  the  old 
man's  cell,  and  enjoyed  a  most  sumptuous 
repast.  For  instead  of  the  sauce  which  with 
a  few  drops  of  oil  spread  over  it  was  usually 
set  on  the  table  for  his  daily  meal,  he  mixed 
a  little  decoction  and  poured  over  it  a  some- 
what more  liberal  allowance  of  oil  than  usual; 
for  each  of  them  when  he  is  going  to  partake 
of  his  daily  repast,  pours  those  drops  of  oil  on, 
not  that  he  may  receive  any  enjoyment  from 
the  taste  of  it  (for  so  limited  is  the  supply 
that  it  is  hardly  enough  I  will  not  say  to 
line  the  passage  of  his  throat  and  jaws,  but 
even  to  pass  down  it)  but  that  using  it,  he 
may  keep  down  the  pride  of  his  heart  (which  is 
certain  to  creep  in  stealthily  and  surely  if  his 
abstinence  is  any  stricter)  and  the  incitements 
to  vainglory,  for  as  his  abstinence  is  practised 
with  the  greater  secrecy,  and  is  carried  on 
without  anyone  to  see  it,  so  much  the  more 


1  Eph.  vi.  12. 


subtly  does  it  never  cease  to  tempt  the  man 
who  conceals  it.  Then  he  set  before  us  table 
salt,  and  three  olives  each:  after  which  he 
produced  a  basket  containing  parched  vetches 
which  they  call  trogalia,'2  from  which  we  each 
took  five  grains,  two  prunes  and  a  fig  apiece. 
For  it  is  considered  wrong  for  anyone  to  ex- 
ceed that  amount  in  that  desert.  And  when 
we  had  finished  this  repast  and  had  begun 
to  ask  him  again  for  his  promised  solution 
of  the  question,  "Let  us  hear,"  said  the  old 
man,  "your  question,  the  consideration  of 
which  we  postponed  till  the  present  time." 


CHAPTER    II. 

Statements  on  the  different  kinds  of  spiritual  wickednesses. 

Then  Germanus:  We  want  to  know  what 
is  the  origin  of  the  great  variety  of  hostile 
powers  opposed  to  men,  and  the  difference 
between  them,  which  the  blessed  Apostle 
sums  up  as  follows:  "We  wrestle  not  against 
flesh  and  blood,  but  against  principalities, 
against  powers,  against  the  world-rulers  of  this 
darkness,  against  spiritual  wickedness  in  hea- 


2  Cf.  Horace,  De  Arte  Poetica,  1.  249. 


76 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


venly  places  i"1  and  again :  "  Neither  angels  nor 
principalities  nor  powers  nor  any  other  crea- 
ture, can  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God 
which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord. "  2  Whence 
then  arises  the  enmity  of  all  this  malice 
jealous  of  us?  Are  we  to  believe  that  those 
powers  were  created  by  the  Lord  for  this;  viz., 
to  fight  against  men  in  these  grades  and 
orders  ? 


CHAPTER   III. 

The  answer  on  the  many  kinds  of  food  provided  in  holy 
Scripture. 

Serenus  :  The  authority  of  holy  Scripture 
says  on  those  points  on  which  it  would  inform 
us  some  things  so  plainly  and  clearly  even  to 
those  who  are  utterly  void  of  understanding, 
that  not  only  are  they  not  veiled  in  the 
obscurity  of  any  hidden  meaning,  but  do  not 
even  require  the  help  of  any  explanation,  but 
carry  their  meaning  and  sense  on  the  surface 
of  the  words  and  letters :  but  some  things  are 
so  concealed  and  involved  in  mysteries  as  to 
offer  us  an  immense  field  for  skill  and  care 
in  the  discussion  and  explanation  of  them. 
And  it  is  clear  that  God  has  so  ordered  it 
for  many  reasons :  first  for  fear  lest  the  holy 
mysteries,  if  they  were  covered  by  no  veil  of 
spiritual  meaning,  should  be  exposed  equally 
to  the  knowledge  and  understanding  of  every- 
body, i.e.,  the  profane  as  well  as  the  faithful, 
and  thus  there  might  be  no  difference  in  the 
matter  of  goodness  and  prudence  between  the 
lazy  and  the  earnest :  next  that  among  those 
who  are  indeed  of  the  household  of  faith, 
while  immense  differences  of  intellectual 
power  open  out  before  them,  there  might  be 
the  opportunity  of  reproving  the  slothfulness 
of  the  idle,  and  of  proving  the  keenness  and 
diligence  of  the  earnest.  And  so  holy  Scrip- 
ture is  fitly  compared  to  a  rich  and  fertile  field, 
which,  while  bearing  and  producing  much  which 
is  good  for  man's  food  without  being  cooked 
by  fire,  produces  some  things  which  are  found 
to  be  unsuitable  for  man's  use  or  even  harm- 
ful unless  they  have  lost  all  the  roughness  of 
their  raw  condition  by  being  tempered  and 
softened  down  by  the  heat  of  fire.  But  some 
are  naturally  fit  for  use  in  both  states,  so  that 
even  when  uncooked  they  are  not  unpleasant 
from  their  raw  condition,  but  still  are  ren- 
dered more  palatable  by  being  cooked  and 
heated  by  fire.  Many  more  things  too  are 
produced   only  fit  for  the  food   of   irrational 


Eph.  vi.  12. 


2  Rom.  viii.  38,  39. 


creatures,  and  cattle,  and  wild  animals  and 
birds,  but  utterly  useless  as  food  for  men, 
which  while  still  in  their  rough  state  without 
being  in  any  way  touched  by  fire,  conduce 
to  the  health  and  life  of  cattle.  And  we  can 
clearly  see  that  the  same  system  holds  good 
in  that  most  fruitful  garden  of  the  Scriptures 
of  the  Spirit,  in  which  some  things  shine 
forth  clear  and  bright  in  their  literal  sense, 
in  such  a  way  that  while  they  have  no  need  of 
any  higher  interpretation,  they  furnish  abun- 
dant food  and  nourishment  in  the  simple 
sound  of  the  words,  to  the  hearers :  as  in  this 
passage:  "Hear,  O  Israel,  the  Lord  thy 
God  is  one  Lord;"  and:  ''Thoushalt  love  the 
Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all 
thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength. "  3  But  there 
are  some  which,  unless  they  are  weakened  down 
by  an  allegorical  interpretation,  and  softened 
by  the  trial  of  the  fire  of  the  spirit  cannot 
become  wholesome  food  for  the  inner  man 
without  injury  and  loss  to  him;  and  damage 
rather  than  profit  will  accrue  to  him  from 
receiving  them :  as  with  this  passage :  "  But 
let  your  loins  be  girded  up  and  your  lights 
burning;"  and:  "  whosoever  has  no  sword, 
let  him  sell  his  coat  and  buy  himself  a  sword ;  " 
and:  "  whosoever  taketh  not  up  his  cross 
and  followeth  after  Me  is  not  worthy  of  Me ;  "  4 
a  passage  which  some  most  earnest  monks, 
having  "  indeed  a  zeal  for  God,  but  not  ac- 
cording to  knowledge  "  5  understood  literally, 
and  so  made  themselves  wooden  crosses,  and 
carried  them  about  constantly  on  their  shoul- 
ders, and  so  were  the  cause  not  of  edification 
but  of  ridicule  on  the  part  of  all  who  saw 
them.  But  some  are  capable  of  being  taken 
suitable  and  properly  in  both  ways,  i.e.,  the 
historical  and  allegorical,  so  that  either  ex- 
planation furnishes  a  healing  draught  to  the 
soul;  as  this  passage:  "If  anyone  shall  smite 
thee  on  the  right  cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other 
also;"  and:  "when  they  persecute  you  in  one 
city,  flee  to  another;"  and:  '"if  thou  wilt  be 
perfect,  go,  sell  all  that  thou  hast  and  give  to 
the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in 
heaven,  and  come  follow  Me."  6  It  produces 
indeed  "grass  for  the  cattle  "  also,  (and  of  this 
food  all  the  fields  of  Scripture  are  full);  viz., 
plain  and  simple  narratives  of  history,  by 
which  simple  folk,  and  those  who  are  incapable 
of  perfect  and  sound  understanding  (of  whom 
it  is  said  "Thou,  Lord,  wilt  save  both  man 
and  beast ") '  may  be  made  stronger  and  more 
vigorous  for  their  hard  work  and  the  labour  of 
actual  life,  in  accordance  with  the  state  and 
measure  of  their  capacity. 


3  Deut.  vi.  4,  5.  4  S.  Luke  xii.  35;  xxii.  36;  S.  Matt.  x.  3S. 

5  Rom.  x.  2.  °  S.  Matt.  v.  39;  x.  23  ;  xix.21.  7  Ps.  x.xxv.  (xxxvi.)  7. 


THE  SECOND  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  SERENUS. 


77 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Of  the  double  sense  in  which  Holy  Scripture  may  be  taken. 

Wherefore  on  those  passages  which  are 
brought  forward  with  a  clear  explanation  we 
also  can  constantly  lay  down  the  meaning  and 
boldly  state  our  own  opinions.  But  those 
which  the  Holy  Spirit,  reserving  for  our  medi- 
tation and  exercise,  has  inserted  in  holy 
Scripture  with  veiled  meaning,  wishing  some  of 
them  to  be  gathered  from  various  proofs  and 
conjectures,  ought  to  be  step  by  step  and  care- 
fully brought  together,  so  that  their  assertions 
and  proofs  may  be  arranged  by  the  discretion 
of  the  man  who  is  arguing  or  supporting  them. 
For  sometimes  when  a  difference  of  opinion  is 
expressed  on  one  and  the  same  subject,  either 
view  may  be  considered  reasonable  and  be 
held  without  injury  to  the  faith  either  firmly, 
or  doubtfully,  i.e.,  in  such  a  way  that  neither 
is  full  belief  nor  absolute  rejection  accorded 
to  it,  and  the  second  view  need  not  interfere 
with  the  former,  if  neither  of  them  is  found 
to  be  opposed  to  the  faith :  as  in  this  case : 
where  Elias  came  in  the  person  of  John,1  and 
is  again  to  be  the  precursor  of  the  Lord's 
Advent:  and  in  the  matter  of  the  "Abomina- 
tion of  desolation  "  which  "  stood  in  the  holy 
place,"  by  means  of  that  idol  of  Jupiter  which, 
as  we  read,  was  placed  in  the  temple  in  Jeru- 
salem, and  which  is  again  to  stand  in  the 
Church  through  the  coming  of  Antichrist,2  and 
all  those  things  which  follow  in  the  gospel, 
which  we  take  as  having  been  fulfilled  before 
the  captivity  of  Jerusalem  and  still  to  be  ful- 
filled at  the  end  of  this  world.  In  which  mat- 
ters neither  view  is  opposed  to  the  other,  nor 
does  the  first  interpretation  interfere  with  the 
second. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Of  the  fact  that  the  question  suggested  ought  to  be  included 
among  those  things  to  be  held  in  a  neutral  or  doubtful  way. 

And  therefore  since  the  question  raised  by 
us,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  sufficiently 
or  often  ventilated  among  men,  and  is  not 
clear  to  most  people,  and  from  this  fact  what 
we  bring  forward  may  "perhaps  appear  to  some 
to  be  doubtful,  we  ought  to  regulate  our  own 
view  (since  it  does  not  interfere  with  faith 
in  the  Trinity)  so  that  it  may  be  included 
among  those  things  which  are  to  be  held 
doubtfully;  although  they  rest  not  on  mere 
opinions  such  as  are  usually  given  to  guesses 
and  conjectures,  but  on  clear  Scripture  proof. 

1  Cf.  S.  Matt.  xi.  14. 

2  See  Dan.  ix.  27 ;  2  Mace.  vi.  2 ;   S.  Matt.  xxiv.  15  sq. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Of  the  fact  that  nothing  is  created  evil  by  God. 

God  forbid  that  we  should  admit  that  God 
has  created  anything  which  is  substantially 
evil,  as  Scripture  says  "  everything  that  God 
had  made  was  very  good. ' '  3  For  if  they  were 
created  by  God  such  as  they  are  now,  or  made 
for  this  purpose ;  viz. ,  to  occupy  these  positions 
of  malice,  and  ever  to  be  ready  for  the  decep- 
tion and  ruin  of  men,  we  should  in  opposition 
to  the  view  of  the  above  quoted  Scripture 
slander  God  as  the  Creator  and  author  of 
evil,  as  having  Himself  formed  utterly  evil 
wills  and  natures,  creating  them  for  this  very 
purpose;  viz.,  that  they  might  ever  persist 
in  their  wickedness  and  never  pass  over  to  the 
feeling  of  a  good  will.  The  following  reason 
then  of  this  diversity  is  what  we  received 
from  the  tradition  of  the  fathers,  being  drawn 
from  the  fount  of  Holy  Scripture. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Of  the  origin  of  principalities  or  powers. 

None  of  the  faithful  question  the  fact  that 
before  the  formation  of  this  visible  creation 
God  made  spiritual  and  celestial  powers,  in 
order  that  owing  to  the  very  fact  that  they  knew 
that  they  had  been  formed  out  of  nothing  by 
the  goodness  of  the  Creator  for  such  glory  and 
bliss,  they  might  render  to  Him  continual 
thanks  and  ceaselessly  continue  to  praise  Him. 
For  neither  should  we  imagine  that  God  for  the 
first  time  began  to  originate  His  creation  and 
work  with  the  formation  of  this  world,  as  if 
in  those  countless  ages  beforehand  He  had 
taken  no  thought  of  Providence  and  the 
divine  ordering  of  things,  and  as  if  we  could 
believe  that  having  none  towards  whom  to 
show  the  blessings  of  His  goodness,  He  had 
been  solitary,  and  a  stranger  to  all  bountiful- 
ness;  a  thing  which  is  too  poor  and  unsuitable 
to  fancy  of  that  boundless  and  eternal  and  in- 
comprehensible Majesty;  as  the  Lord  Himself 
says  of  these  powers :  "  When  the  stars  were 
made  together,  all  my  angels  praised  Me 
with  a  loud  voice."4  Those  then  who  were 
present  at  the  creation  of  the  stars,  are  most 
clearly  proved  to  have  been  created  before 
that  "beginning"  in  which  it  is  said  that 
heaven  and  earth  were  made,  inasmuch  as 
they  are  said  with  loud  voices  and  admiration 
to  have  praised  the  Creator  because  of  all 
those   visible    creatures    which,    as  they  saw, 


Geii. 


4  Job  xxxviii.  7  (LXX.). 


378 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


proceeded  forth  from  nothing.  Before  then 
that  beginning  in  time  which  is  spoken  of  by 
Moses,  and  which  according  to  the  historic 
and  Jewish  interpretation  denotes  the  age  of 
this  world  (without  prejudice  to  our  interpre- 
tation, according  to  which  we  explain  that  the  j 
"beginning,"  of  all  things  is  Christ,  in  whom 
the  Father  created  all  things,  as  it  is  said  "All 
things  were  made  by  him,  and  without  Him 
was  not  anything  made,'')  1  before,  I  say,  that 
beginning  of  Genesis  in  time  there  is  no 
question  that  God  had  already  created  all 
those  powers  and  heavenly  virtues;  which 
the  Apostle  enumerates  in  order  and  thus 
describes :  "  For  in  Christ  were  created  all 
things  both  in  heaven  and  on  earth,  visible 
and  invisible,  whether  they  be  angels  or  arch- 
angels, whether  they  be  thrones  or  dominions, 
whether  they  be  principalities  or  powers.  All 
things  were  made  by  Him  and  in  Him."  2 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Of  the  fall  of  the  devil  and  the  angels. 

And  so  we  are  clearly  shown  that  out  of 
that  number  of  them  some  of  the  leaders  fell, 
by  the  lamentations  of  Ezekiel  and  Isaiah,  in 
which  we  know  that  the  prince  of  Tyre  or  that 
Lucifer  who  rose  in  the  morning  is  lamented 
with  a  doleful  plaint:  and  of  him  the  Lord 
speaks  as  follows  to  Ezekiel :  "  Son  of  man,  take 
up  a  lamentation  over  the  prince  of  Tyre,  and 
say  to  him :  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God :  Thou 
wast  the  seal  of  resemblance,  full  of  wisdom, 
perfect  in  beauty.  Thou  wast  in  the  pleasures 
of  the  paradise  of  God:  every  precious  stone 
was  thy  covering :  the  sardius,  the  topaz  and 
the  jasper,  the  chrysolyte  and  the  onyx  and 
the  beryl,  the  sapphire  and  the  carbuncle 
and  the  emerald:  gold  the  work  of  thy  beauty, 
and  thy  pipes  were  prepared  in  the  day  that 
thou  wast  created.  Thou  wast  a  cherub 
stretched  out  and  protecting,  and  I  set  thee 
in  the  holy  mountain  of  God,  thou  hast 
walked  in  the  midst  of  the  stones  of  fire. 
Thou  wast  perfect  in  thy  ways  from  the  day  of 
thy  creation,  until  iniquity  was  found  in  thee. 
By  the  multitude  of  thy  merchandise  thy 
inner  parts  were  filled  with  iniquity  and  thou 
hast  sinned;  and  I  cast  thee  out  from  the 
mountain  of  God,  and  destroyed  thee,  O 
covering  cherub,  out  of  the  midst  of  the  stones 
of  fire.  And  thy  heart  was  lifted  up  with  thy 
beauty:  thou  hast  lost  thy  wisdom  in  thy 
beauty,  I  have  cast  thee  to  the  ground :  I  have 
set  thee  before  the  face  of   kings,   that  they 


1  S.  John  i.  3. 


2  Col.  i. 


might  behold  thee.  Thou  hast  defiled  thy 
sanctuaries  by  the  multitude  of  thy  iniquities 
and  by  the  iniquity  of  thy  traffic."  8  Isaiah 
also  says  of  another:  "How  art  thou  fallen 
from  heaven,  O  Lucifer,  who  didst  rise  in 
the  morning?  how  art  thou  fallen  to  the 
ground,  that  didst  wound  the  nations?  and 
thou  saidst  in  thine  heart,  I  will  ascend  into 
heaven,  I  will  exalt  my  throne  above  the  stars 
of  God,  I  will  sit  in  the  mountain  of  the 
covenant,  in  the  sides  of  the  north.  I  will 
ascend  above  the  heights  of  the  clouds.  I 
will  be  like  the  Most  High."4  But  Holy 
Scripture  relates  that  these  fell  not  alone  from 
that  summit  of  their  station  in  bliss,  as  it  tells 
us  that  the  dragon  dragged  down  together  with 
himself  the  third  part  of  the  stars.5  One  of 
the  Apostles  too  says  still  more  plainly:  "But 
the  angels  who  kept  not  their  first  estate,  but 
left  their  own  dwelling,  He  hath  reserved 
in  everlasting  chains  under  darkness  to  the 
judgment  of  the  great  day."  6  This  too  which 
is  said  to  us:  "But  ye  shall  die  like  men  and 
fall  like  one  of  the  princes,"  7  what  does  it 
imply  but  that  many  princes  have  fallen? 
And  by  these  testimonies  we  can  gather  the 
reason  for  this  diversity;  viz.,  either  that  they 
still  retain  those  differences  of  rank  (which 
adverse  powers  are  said  to  possess,  after  the 
manner  of  holy  and  heavenly  virtues)  from 
the  station  of  their  former  rank  in  which  they 
were  severally  created,  or  else  that,  though 
themselves  cast  down  from  heavenly  places, 
yet,  as  a  reward  for  that  wickedness  of  theirs 
in  which  they  have  graduated  in  evil,  they 
claim  in  perversity  these  grades  and  titles  of 
rank  among  themselves,  by  way  of  copying 
those  virtues  which  have  stood  firm  there. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

An  objection  stating  that  the  fall  of  the  devil  took  its  origin 
from  the  deception  of  God. 

Germanus:  Up  till  now  we  used  to  believe 
that  the  reason  and  commencement  of  the  ruin 
and  fall  of  the  devil,  in  which  he  was  cast  out 
from  his  heavenly  estate,  was  more  particu- 
larly envy,  when  in  his  spiteful  subtlety  he 
deceived  Adam  and  Eve. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  answer  about  the  beginning  of  the  devil's  fall. 

Serenus:   The  passage   in  Genesis   shows 
that  that  was  not  the  beginning  of  his  fall  and 

s  Ezek.  xxviii.n-iS.        4  Is.  xiv.  12-14.        5  Cf.  Rev.  xii.  4- 
0  Ep.  of  S.  Jude,  ver.  6.      7  Ps.  lxxxi.  (lxxx.)  7. 


THE  SECOND  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  SERENUS. 


379 


ruin,  as  before  their  deception  it  takes  the 
view  that  he  had  already  been  branded  with 
the  ignominy  of  the  name  of  the  serpent,  where 
it  says :  "  But  the  serpent  was  wiser  "  or  as  the 
Hebrew  copies  express  it,  "more  subtle  than 
all  the  beasts  of  the  earth,  which  the  Lord 
God  had  made."  l  You  see  then  that  he  had 
fallen  away  from  his  angelic  holiness  even 
before  he  deceived  the  first  man,  so  that  he 
not  only  deserved  to  be  stamped  with  the 
ignominy  of  this  title,  but  actually  excelled  all 
other  beasts  of  the  earth  in  the  subterfuges  of 
wickedness.  For  Holy  Scripture  would  not 
have  designated  a  good  angel  by  such  a  term, 
nor  would  it  say  of  those  who  were  still  con- 
tinuing in  that  state  of  bliss :  "  But  the  serpent 
was  wiser  than  all  the  beasts  of  the  earth." 
For  this  title  could  not  possibly  be  applied 
I  say  not  to  Gabriel  or  Michael,  but  it  would 
not  even  be  suitable  to  any  good  man.  And 
so  the  title  of  serpent  and  the  comparison  to 
beasts  most  clearly  suggests  not  the  dignity  of 
an  angel  but  the  infamy  of  an  apostate. 
Finally  the  occasion  of  the  envy  and  seduc- 
tion, which  led  him  to  deceive  man,  arose 
from  the  ground  of  his  previous  fall,  in  that  he 
saw  that  man,  who  had  but  recently  been 
formed  out  of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  was  to 
be  called  to  that  glory,  from  which  he  remem- 
bered that  he  himself,  while  still  one  of  the 
princes,  had  fallen.  And  so  that  first  fall  of 
his,  which  was  due  to  pride,  and  which  obtained 
for  him  the  name  of  the  serpent,  was  followed 
by  a  second  owing  to  envy:  and  as  this  one 
found  him  still  in  the  possession  of  something 
upright  so  that  he  could  enjoy  some  inter- 
change of  conference  and  counsel  with  man, 
by  the  Lord's  sentence  he  was  very  properly 
cast  down  to  the  lowest  depth,  that  he  might 
no  longer  walk  as  before  erect,  and  looking 
up  on  high,  but  should  cleave  to  the  ground 
and  creep  along,  and  be  brought  low  upon  his 
belly  and  feed  upon  the  earthly  food  and  works 
of  sins,  and  henceforward  proclaim  his  secret 
hostility,  and  put  between  himself  and  man 
an  enmity  that  is  to  our  advantage,  and  a  dis- 
cord that  is  to  our  profit,  so  that  while  men 
are  on  their  guard  against  him  as  a  dangerous 
enemy,  he  can  no  longer  injure  them  by  a 
deceptive  show  of  friendship. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

The  punishment  of  the  deceiver  and  the  deceived. 

But  we  ought  in  this  matter,  in  order  that 
we  may  shun  evil  counsels,  to  learn  a  special 


1  Gen.  iii.  i. 


lesson  from  the  fact  that  though  the  author 
of  the  deception  was  visited  with  a  fitting 
punishment  and  condemnation,  yet  still  the 
one  who  was  led  astray  did  not  go  scot  free 
from  punishment,  although  it  was  somewhat 
lighter  than  that  of  him  who  was  the  author 
of  the  deception.  And  this  we  see  was  very 
plainly  expressed.  For  Adam  who  was  de- 
ceived, or  rather  (to  use  the  Apostle's  words) 
"was  not  deceived"  but,  acquiescing  in  the 
wishes  of  her  who  was  deceived,  seems  to 
have  come  to  yield  a  consent  that  was 
deadly,  is  only  condemned  to  labour  and  the 
sweat  of  his  brow,  which  is  assigned  to  him 
not  by  means  of  a  curse  upon  himself,  but 
by  means  of  a  curse  upon  the  ground,  and  its 
barrenness.  But  the  woman,  who  persuaded 
him  to  this,  is  visited  with  an  increase  of 
anguish,  and  pains  and  sorrow,  and  also 
given  over  to  the  yoke  of  perpetual  subjection. 
But  the  serpent  who  was  the  first  to  incite 
them  to  this  offence,  is  punished  by  a  lasting 
curse.  Wherefore  we  should  with  the  utmost 
care  and  circumspection  be  on  our  guard 
against  evil  counsels,  for  as  they  bring  punish- 
ment upon  their  authors,  so  too  they  do  not 
suffer  those  who  are  deceived  by  them  to  go 
free  from  guilt  and  punishment. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Of  the  crowd  of  the  devils,  and  the  disturbance  which  they 
always  raise  in  our  atmosphere. 

But  the  atmosphere  which  extends  between 
heaven  and  earth  is  ever  filled  with  a  thick 
crowd  of  spirits,  which  do  not  fly  about  in 
it  quietly  or  idly,  so  that  most  fortunately 
the  divine  providence  has  withdrawn  them 
from  human  sight.  For  through  fear  of 
their  attacks,  or  horror  at  the  forms,  into 
which  they  transform  and  turn  themselves 
at  will,  men  would  either  be  driven  out 
of  their  wits  by  an  insufferable  dread,  and 
faint  away,  from  inability  to  look  on  such 
things  with  bodily  eyes,  or  else  would  daily 
grow  worse  and  worse,  and  be  corrupted  by 
their  constant  example  and  by  imitating  them, 
and  thus  there  would  arise  a  sort  of  danger- 
ous familiarity  and  deadly  intercourse  between 
men  and  the  unclean  powers  of  the  air,  where- 
as those  crimes  which  are  now  committed 
among  men,  are  concealed  either  by  walls 
and  enclosures  or  by  distance  and  space,  or  by 
some  shame  and  confusion :  but  if  they  could 
always  look  on  them  with  open  face,  they 
would  be  stimulated  to  a  greater  pitch  of  in- 
sanity, as  there  would  not  be  a  single  moment 
in  which  they  would  see  them  desist  from  their 


,8o 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


wickedness,  since  no  bodily  weariness,  or 
occupation  in  business  or  care  for  their  daily 
food  (as  in  our  case)  forces  them  sometimes 
even  against  their  will  to  desist  from  the 
purposes  they  have  begun  to  carry  out. 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

Of  the  fact  that  opposing  powers  turn  the  attack,  which  they 
aim  at  men,  even  against  each  other. 

For  it  is  quite  clear  that  they  aim  these 
attacks,  with  which  they  assault  men,  even 
against  each  other,  for  in  like  manner  they 
do  not  cease  to  promote  with  unwearied  strife 
the  discords  and  struggles  which  they  have 
undertaken  for  some  peoples  because  of  a  sort 
of  innate  love  of  wickedness  which  they 
have:  and  this  we  read  of  as  being  very 
clearly  set  forth  in  the  vision  of  Daniel 
the  prophet,  where  the  angel  Gabriel  speaks 
as  follows :  "  Fear  not,  Daniel :  for  from  the 
first  day  that  thou  didst  set  thy  heart  to  un- 
derstand, to  afflict  thyself  in  the  sight  of  thy 
God,  thy  words  have  been  heard :  and  I  am 
come  for  thy  words.  But  the  prince  of  the 
kingdom  of  the  Persians  resisted  me  one  and 
twenty  days :  and  behold  Michael  one  of  the 
chief  princes  came  to  help  me,  and  I  remained 
there  by  the  king  of  the  Persians.  But  I  am 
come  to  teach  thee  what  things  shall  befall 
thy  people  in  the  latter  days."  1  And  we  can- 
not possibly  doubt  that  this  prince  of  the 
kingdom  of  the  Persians  was  a  hostile  power, 
which  favoured  the  nation  of  the  Persians  an 
enemy  of  God's  people;  for  in  order  to  hinder 
the  good  which  it  saw  would  result  from  the 
solution  of  the  question  for  which  the  prophet 
prayed  the  Lord,  by  the  archangel,  in  its 
jealousy  it  opposed  itself  to  prevent  the 
saving  comfort  of  the  angel  from  reaching 
Daniel  too  speedily,  and  from  strengthen- 
ing the  people  of  God,  over  which  the 
archangel  Gabriel  was:  and  the  latter  said 
that  even  then,  owing  to  the  fierceness  of  his 
assaults,  he  would  not  have  been  able  to  come 
to  him,  had  not  Michael  the  archangel  come 
to  help  him,  and  met  the  prince  of  the  king- 
dom of  the  Persians,  and  joined  battle  with 
him,  and  intervened,  and  defended  him  from 
his  attack,  and  so  enabled  him  to  come  to  in- 
struct the  prophet  after  twenty-one  days.  And 
a  little  later  on  it  says:  "And  the  angel  said: 
Dost  thou  know  wherefore  I  am  come  to  thee  ? 
And  now  I  will  return  to  fight  against  the 
prince  of  the  Persians.  For  when  I  went 
forth,  there  appeared  the  prince  of  the  Greeks 
coming.     But  I  will  tell  thee  what  is  written 

1  Dan.  x.  12-14. 


down  in  the  Scriptures  of  truth :  and  none  is 
my  helper  in  all  these  things  but  Michael 
your  prince. " 2  And  again  :  "At  that  time  shall 
Michael  rise  up,  the  great  prince,  who  stand- 
eth  for  the  children  of  thy  people."3  So  then 
we  read  that  in  the  same  way  another  was 
called  the  prince  of  the  Greeks,  Avho  since  he 
was  patron  of  that  nation  which  was  subject 
to  him  seems  to  have  been  opposed  to  the 
nation  of  the  Persians  as  well  as  to  the  people 
of  Israel.  From  which  we  clearly  see  that 
antagonistic  powers  raise  against  each  other 
those  quarrels  of  nations,  and  conflicts  and 
dissensions,  which  they  show  among  them- 
selves at  their  instigation,  and  that  they  either 
exult  at  their  victories  or  are  cast  down  at 
their  defeats,  and  thus  cannot  live  in  harmony 
among  themselves,  while  each  of  them  is 
always  striving  with  restless  jealousy  on  be- 
half of  those  whom  he  presides  over,  against 
the  patron  of  some  other  nation. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

How  it  is  that  spiritual  wickednesses  obtained  the  names  of 
powers  or  principalities. 

We  can  then  see  clear  reasons,  in  addition 
to  those  ideas  which  we  expounded  above, 
why  they  are  called  principalities  or  powers; 
viz.,  because  they  rule  and  preside  over 
different  nations,  and  at  least  hold  sway 
over  inferior  spirits  and  demons,  of  which 
the  gospels  give  us  evidence  by  their  own 
confession  that  there  exist  legions.  For  they 
could  not  be  called  lords  unless  they  had 
some  over  whom  to  exercise  the  sway  of  lord- 
ship; nor  could  they  be  called  powers  or 
principalities,  unless  there  were  some  over 
whom  they  could  claim  power :  and  this  we  find 
pointed  out  very  clearly  in  the  gospel  by  the 
Pharisees  in  their  blasphemy :  "  He  casteth  out 
devils  by  Beelzebub  the  prince  of  the  devils,"  4 
for  we  find  that  they  are  also  called  "rulers  of 
darkness, "  5  and  that  one  of  them  is  styled  "  the 
prince  of  this  world.''6  But  the  blessed 
Apostle  declares  that  hereafter,  when  all 
things  shall  be  subdued  to  Christ,  these 
orders  shall  be  destroyed,  saying:  "'When 
He  shall  have  delivered  up  the  kingdom  to 
God  even  the  Father,  when  He  shall  have 
destroyed  all  principalities  and  powers  and 
dominions."7  And  this  certainly  can  only 
take  place  if  they  are  removed  from  the  sway 
of  those  over  whom  we  know  that  powers 
and  dominions  and  principalities  take  charge 
in  this  world. 


2  Dan.  x.  20,  21.     4  S.  Luke  xi.  15. 

3  Dan.  xii.  1.  E  Eph.  vi.  12. 


6  S.  John  xiv.  30. 

7  1  Cor.  xv.  24. 


THE  SECOND  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  SERENUS. 


38i 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Of  the  fact  that  it  is  not  without  reason  that  the  names  of 
angels  and  archangels  are  given  to  holy  and  heavenly 
powers. 

For  no  one  doubts  that  not  without  cause 
or  reason  are  the  same  titles  of  rank  assigned 
to  the  better  sort,  and  that  they  are  names  of 
office  and  of  worth  or  dignity,  for  it  is  plain 
that  they  are  termed  angels,  i.e.,  messengers 
from  their  office  of  bearing  messages,  and  the 
appropriateness  of  the  name  teaches  that  they 
are  "archangels"  because  they  preside  over 
angels, "  dominions  "  because  they  hold  domin- 
ion over  certain  persons,  and  "principalities" 
because  they  have  some  to  be  princes  over, 
and  "  thrones  "  because  they  are  so  near  to  God 
and  so  privy  and  close  to  Him  that  the  Divine 
Majesty  specially  rests  in  them  as  in  a  Divine 
throne,  and  in  a  way  reclines  surely  on  them. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Of  the  subjection  of  the  devils,  which  they  show  to  their 
own  princes,  as  seen  in  a  brother's  victim. 

But  that  unclean  spirits  are  ruled  over  by 
worse  powers  and  are  subject  to  them  we  not 
only  find  from  those  passages  of  Scripture, 
recorded  in  the  gospels  when  the  Pharisees 
maligned  the  Lord,  and  He  answered  "  If  I  by 
Beelzebub  the  prince  of  the  devils  cast  out 
devils,"  *  but  we  are  also  taught  this  by  clear 
visions  and  many  experiences  of  the  saints, 
for  when  one  of  our  brethren  was  making  a 
journey  in  this  desert,  as  day  was  now  declin- 
ing he  found  a  cave  and  stopped  there  mean- 
ing to  say  his  evening  office  in  it,  and  there 
midnight  passed  while  he  was  still  singing 
the  Psalms.  And  when  after  he  had  finished 
his  office  he  sat  down  a  little  before  refresh- 
ing his  wearied  body,  on  a  sudden  he  began 
to  see  innumerable  troops  of  demons  gather- 
ing together  on  all  sides,  who  came  forward 
in  an  immense  crowd,  and  a  long  line,  some 
preceding  and  others  following  their  prince; 
who  at  length  arrived,  being  taller  and  more 
dreadful  to  look  at  than  all  the  others;  and, 
a  throne  having  been  placed,  he  sat  down  as 
on  some  lofty  tribunal,  and  began  to  investi- 
gate by  a  searching  examination  the  actions 
of  each  one  of  them ;  and  those  who  said 
that  they  had  not  yet  been  able  to  circumvent 
their  rivals,  he  commanded  to  be  driven  out 
of  his  sight  with  shame  and  ignominy  as  idle 
and  slothful,  rebuking  them  with  angry  wrath 
for  the  waste  of  so  much  time,  and  for  their 


labour  thrown  away:  but  those  who  reported 
that  they  had  deceived  those  assigned  to  them, 
he  dismissed  before  all  with  the  highest  praise 
amidst  the  exultation  and  applause  of  all, 
as  most  brave  warriors,  and  most  renowned  as 
an  example  to  all  the  rest:  and  when  in  this 
number  some  most  evil  spirit  had  presented 
himself,  in  delight  at  having  to  relate  some 
magnificent  triumph,  he  mentioned  the  name 
of  a  very  well  known  monk,  and  declared  that 
after  having  incessantly  attacked  him  for  fif- 
teen years,  he  had  at  last  got  the  better  of  him, 
so  as  to  destroy  him  that  very  same  night  by 
the  sin  of  fornication,  for  that  he  had  not 
only  impelled  him  to  commit  adultery  with 
some  consecrated  maid,  but  had  actually 
persuaded  him  to  keep  her  and  marry  her. 
And  when  there  arose  shouts  of  joy  at  this 
narrative,  he  was  extolled  with  the  highest 
praise  by  the  prince  of  darkness,  and  departed 
crowned  with  great  honours.  And  so  when  at 
break  of  day  the  whole  swarm  of  demons  had 
vanished  from  his  eyes,  the  brother  being 
doubtful  about  the  assertion  of  the  unclean 
spirit,  and  rather  thinking  that  he  had  desired 
to  entice  him  by  an  ancient  customary  deceit, 
and  to  brand  an  innocent  brother  with  the 
crime  of  incest,  being  mindful  of  those  words 
of  the  gospel;  viz.,  that  "he  abode  not  in  the 
truth  because  there  is  no  truth  in  him. 
When  he  speaketh  a  lie,  he  speaketh  of  his 
own,  for  he  is  a  liar,  and  its  father,"2  he 
made  his  way  to  Pelusium,  where  he  knew  that 
the  man  lived,  whom  the  evil  spirit  declared 
to  be  destroyed:  for  the  brother  was  very  well 
known  to  him,  and  when  he  had  asked  him, 
he  found  that  on  the  same  night  on  which 
that  foul  demon  had  announced  his  downfall 
to  his  company  and  prince,  he  had  left  his 
former  monastery,  and  sought  the  town,  and 
had  gone  astray  by  a  wretched  fall  with  the 
girl  mentioned. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Of  the  fact  that  two  angels  always  cling  to  every  man. 

For  Holy  Scripture  bears  witness  that 
two  angels,  a  good  and  a  bad  one,  cling  to 
each  one  of  us.  And  of  the  good  ones  the 
Saviour  says :  "  Do  not  despise  one  of  these 
little  ones;  for  I  say  unto  you  that  their 
angels  in  heaven  do  always  behold  the  face  of 
thy  Father  which  is  in  heaven :  "  s  and  this 
also:  "the  angel  of  the  Lord  shall  encamp 
round  about  them  that  fear  Him.  and  deliver 
them."4     Moreover  this  also  which  is  said  in 


1  S.  Luke  xi. 


2  S.  John  viii.  44.      3  S.  Matt,  xviii.  10.      *  Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)  8. 


382 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  of  Peter,  that  "  it  is 
his  angel."1  But  of  both  sorts  the  book  of 
the  Shepherd  teaches  us  very  fully.'2  But  if 
we  consider  about  him  who  attacked  the 
blessed  Job  we  shall  clearly  learn  that  it  was 
he  who  always  plotted  against  him  but  never 
could  entice  him  to  sin,  and  that  therefore  he 
asked  for  power  from  the  Lord,  as  he  was 
worsted  not  by  his  (Job's)  virtue  but  by  the 
Lord's  protection  which  ever  shielded  him. 
Of  Judas  also  it  is  said:  "And  let  the  devil 
stand  at  his  right  hand. "  3 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

Of  the  degrees  of  wickedness  which  exist  in  hostile  spirits,  as 
shown  in  the  case  of  two  philosophers. 

But  of  the  difference  that  there  is  between 
demons  we  have  learnt  a  great  deal  by  means 
of  those  two  philosophers  who  formerly  by 
acts  of  magic  had  oftentimes  great  experience 
both  of  their  laziness  and  of  their  courage  and 
savage  wickedness.  For  these  looking  down 
on  the  blessed  Antony  as  a  boor  and  rustic, 
and  wanting,  if  they  could  not  injure  him 
any  further,  at  least  to  drive  him  from  his 
cell  by  illusions  of  magic  and  the  devices  of 
demons,  despatched  against  him  most  foul 
spirits,  for  they  were  impelled  to  this  attack 
upon  him  by  the  sting  of  jealousy  because 
enormous  crowds  came  daily  to  him  as  the 
servant  of  God.  And  when  these  most  savage 
demons  did  not  even  venture  to  approach 
him  as  he  was  now  signing  his  breast  and 
forehead  with  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and,  now 
devoting  himself  to  prayer  and  supplication, 
they  returned  without  any  result  to  those  who 
had  directed  them ;  and  these  again  sent  against 
him  others  more  desperate  in  wickedness,  and 
when  these  too  had  spent  their  strength  in 
vain,  and  returned  without  having  accom- 
plished anything,  and  others  still  more  power- 
ful were  nevertheless  told  off  against  the 
victorious  soldier  of  Christ,  and  could  prevail 
nothing  against  him,  all  these  great  plots  of 
theirs  devised  with  all  the  arts  of  magic  were 
only  useful  in  proving  the  great  value  that 
there  is  in  the  profession  of  Christians,  so  that 
those  fierce  and  powerful  shadows,  which  they 
thought  would  veil  the  sun  and  moon  if  they 


1  Acts  xii.  15. 

2  The  reference  is  to  the  Pastor  or  Shepherd  of  Hermas,  a  work 
of  the  second  century.  The  passage  to  which  Cassian  alludes  is 
found  in  Book  II.  Commandm.  vi.  ;  where  it  is  said  that  "  there  are 
two  angels  with  a  man,  one  of  righteousness  and  the  other  of  iniquity," 
and  suggestions  are  given  how  to  recognize  each  of  them  and  to  dis- 
tinguish the  suggestions  of  the  one  from  those  of  the  other.  The 
passage  is  also  alluded  to  by  Origen,  De  Principiis,  Book  III.  c.  ii. 
and  Horn.  xxxv.  in  (Lucam);  and  Cassian  refers  to  it  again  in 
Conf.  XIII.  c.  xii. 

3  Ps.  cviii.  (cix.)  6. 


were  directed  towards  them,  could  not  only 
not  injure  him,  but  not  even  draw  him  forth 
from  his  monastery  for  a  single  instant. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

Of  the  fact  that  devils  cannot  prevail  at  all  against  men  unless 
they  have  first  secured  possession  of  their  minds. 

And  when  in  their  astonishment  at  this  they 
came  straight  to  Abbot  Antony  and  disclosed 
the  extent  of  their  attacks  and  the  reason  of 
them  and  their  plots,  they  dissembled  their 
jealousy  and  asked  that  they  might  forthwith 
be  made  Christians.  But  when  he  had  asked 
of  them  the  day  when  the  assault  was  made, 
he  declared  that  at  that  time  he  had  been 
afflicted  with  the  most  bitter  pangs  of  thought. 
And  by  this  experience  the  blessed  Antony 
proved  and  established  the  opinion  which  we 
expressed  yesterday  in  our  Conference,  that 
demons  cannot  possibly  find  an  entrance  into 
the  mind  or  body  of  anyone,  nor  have  they  the 
power  of  overwhelming  the  soul  of  anyone, 
unless  they  have  first  deprived  it  of  all  holy 
thoughts,  and  made  it  empty  and  free  from 
spiritual  meditation.  But  you  must  know 
that  unclean  spirits  are  obedient  to  men  in 
two  ways.  For  either  they  are  by  divine 
grace  and  power  subject  to  the  holiness  of 
the  faithful,  or  they  are  captivated  by  the 
sacrifices  of  sinners,  and  certain  charms,  and 
are  flattered  by  them  as  their  worshippers. 
And  the  Pharisees  too  were  led  astray  by  this 
notion  and  fancied  that  by  this  device  even 
the  Lord  the  Saviour  gave  commands  to  devils, 
and  said  "By  Beelzebub  the  prince  of  the 
devils  He  casteth  out  devils,"  in  accordance 
with  that  plan  by  which  they  knew  that  their 
own  magicians  and  enchanters  —  by  invoking 
his  name  and  offering  sacrifices,  with  which 
they  know  he  is  pleased  and  delighted  —  have 
as  his  servants  power  even  over  the  devils 
who  are  subject  to  him. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

A  question  about  the  fallen  angels  who  are  said  in  Genesis  to 
have  had  intercourse  with  the  daughters  of  men. 

Germanus  :  Since  a  passage  of  Genesis 
was  a  little  while  ago  by  the  providence  of 
God  brought  forward  in  our  midst,  and  happily 
reminded  us  that  we  can  now  conveniently  ask 
about  a  point  which  we  have  always  longed  to 
learn,  we  want  to  know  what  view  we  ought 
to  take  about  those  fallen  angels  who  are  said 
to  have  had  intercourse  with  the  daughters  of 
men,  and  whether  such  a  thing  can  literally 


THE  SECOND  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  SERENUS. 


383 


take  place  with  a  spiritual  nature.  And  also 
with  regard  to  this  passage  of  the  gospel 
which  you  quoted  of  the  devil  a  little  while 
back,  ''for  he  is  a  liar  and  his  father,"1  we 
should  like  in  the  same  way  to  hear  who  is  to 
be  understood  by  "his  father." 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

The  answer  to  the  question  raised. 

Serenus:  You  have  propounded  two  not 
unimportant  questions,  to  which  I  will  reply, 
to  the  best  of  my  ability,  in  the  order  in  which 
you  have  raised  them.  We  cannot  possibly 
believe  that  spiritual  existences  can  have 
carnal  intercourse  with  women.  But  if  this 
could  ever  have  literally  happened  how  is  it 
that  it  does  not  now  also  sometimes  take  place, 
and  that  we  do  not  see  some  in  the  same  way 
born  of  women  by  the  agency  of  demons  with- 
out intercourse  with  men?  especially  when 
it  is  clear  that  they  delight  in  the  pollution  of 
lust,  which  they  would  certainly  prefer  to  bring 
about  through  their  own  agency  rather  than 
through  that  of  men,  if  they  could  possibly 
manage  it,  as  Ecclesiastes  declares :  "  What  is 
it  that  hath  been?  The  same  that  is.  And 
what  is  it  that  hath  been  done  ?  The  same 
that  is  done.  And  there  is  nothing  new  that 
can  be  said  under  the  sun,  so  that  a  man  can 
say:  Behold  this  is  new;  for  it  hath  already 
been  in  the  ages  which  were  before  us."2 
But  the  question  raised  may  be  resolved  in 
this  way.  After  the  death  of  righteous 
Abel,  in  order  that  the  whole  human  race 
might  not  spring  from  a  wicked  fratricide, 
Seth  was  born  in  the  place  of  his  brother  who 
was  slain,  to  take  the  place  of  his  brother  not 
only  as  regards  posterity,  but  also  as  regards 
justice  and  goodness.  And  his  offspring,  fol- 
lowing the  example  of  their  father's  goodness, 
always  remained  separate  from  intercourse 
with  and  the  society  of  their  kindred  de- 
scended from  the  wicked  Cain,  as  the  differ- 
ence of  the  genealogy  very  clearly  tells  us, 
where  it  says:  "Adam  begat  Seth,  Seth  begat 
Enos,  Enos  begat  Cainan,  but  Cainan  begat 
Mahalaleel,  but  Mahalaleel  begat  Jared,  Jared 
begat  Enoch,  Enoch  begat  Methuselah,  Me- 
thuselah begat  Lamech,  Lamech  begat  Noah. "  3 
And  the  genealogy  of  Cain  is  given  separately 
as  follows:  "Cain  begat  Enoch,  Enoch  begat 


1  S.  John  viii.  44.  We  find  from  Augustine  (Tract,  xxiv.  in 
Johan.)  that  the  Manichees  interpreted  this  text  as  implying  that  the 
devil  had  a  father,  translating  it  "  For  he  is  a  liar,  and  so  is  his 
father."  Augustine  himself  explains  it  as  Abbot  Serenus  does  below 
in  c.  xxv.;  viz.,  that  the  devil  is  not  only  a  liar  himself  but  the  parent 
of  lies. 

2  Eccl.  i.  9,  10.  3  Gen.  v.  4-30. 


Cainan,  Cainan  begat  Mahalaleel,  Mahalaleel 
begat  Methuselah,  Methuselah  begat  Lamech, 
Lamech  begat  Jabal  and  Jubal."  4  And  so  the 
line  which  sprang  from  the  seed  of  righteous 
Seth  always  mixed  with  its  own  kith  and  kin, 
and  continued  for  a  long  while  in  the  holiness 
of  its  fathers  and  ancestors,  untouched  by  the 
blasphemies  and  the  wickedness  of  an  evil 
offspring,  which  had  implanted  in  it  a  seed  of 
sin  as  it  were  transmitted  by  its  ancestors. 
As  long  then  as  there  continued  that  separation 
of  the  lines  between  them,  the  seed  of  Seth,  as 
it  sprang  from  an  excellent  root,  was  by  reason 
of  its  sanctity  termed  "angels  of  God,"  or  as 
some  copies  have  it  "  sons  of  God ;"  5  and  on  the 
contrary  the  others  by  reason  of  their  own  and 
their  fathers'  wickedness  and  their  earthly 
deeds  were  termed  "  children  of  men."  Though 
then  there  was  up  to  this  time  that  holy  and 
salutary  separation  between  them,  yet  after 
this  the  sons  of  Seth  who  were  the  sons  of 
God  saw  the  daughters  of  those  who  were 
born  of  the  line  of  Cain,  and  inflamed  with 
the  desire  for  their  beauty  took  to  themselves 
from  them  wives  who  taught  their  husbands 
the  wickedness  of  their  fathers,  and  at  once 
led  them  astray  from  their  innate  holiness  and 
the  single-mindedness  of  their  forefathers. 
To  whom  this  saying  applies  with  sufficient 
accuracy :  "  I  have  said :  Ye  are  Gods,  and  ye 
are  all  the  children  of  the  Most  High.  But 
ye  shall  die  like  men,  and  fall  like  one  of  the 
princes; "  6  who  fell  away  from  that  true  study 
of  natural  philosophy,  handed  down  to  them  by 
their  ancestors,  which  the  first  man  who  forth- 
with traced  out  the  study  of  all  nature,  could 
clearly  attain  to,  and  transmit  to  his  descen- 
dants on  sure  grounds,  inasmuch  as  he  had 
seen  the  infancy  of  this  world,  while  still  as 
it  were  tender  and  throbbing  and  unorganized; 
and  as  there  was  in  him  not  only  such  fulness 
of  wisdom,  but  also  the  grace  of  prophecy 
given  by  the  Divine  inspiration,  so  that  while 
he  was  still  an  untaught  inhabitant  of  this 
world  he  gave  names  to  all  living  creatures, 
and  not  only  knew  about  the  fury  and  poison 
of  all  kinds  of  beasts  and  serpents,  but  also  dis- 
tinguished between  the  virtues  of  plants  and 
trees  and  the  natures  of  stones,  and  the  changes 
of  seasons  of  which  he  had  as  yet  no  expe- 
rience, so  that  he  could  well  say :   "  The  Lord 


*  Gen.  iv.  17-21. 

5  In  Gen.  vi.2  the  MSS.  of  the  LXX.  fluctuate  between  ayyeXoi 
toO  9eov  and  viol  tov  6eov.  The  interpretation  of  the  passage 
which  Cassian  here  rejects  is  adopted  by  Philo  and  Josephus,  the 
book  of  Enoch,  and  several  of  the  early  fathers,  including  Justin 
Martyr,  Tertullian,  Clement  of  Alexandria,  Lactantius  and  others. 
The  explanation,  which  Cassian  here  gives,  taking  the  "  sons  of  God" 
of  theSethites,and  the  "  daughters  of  men  "  of  the  line  of  Cain,  is  ap- 
parently first  found  in  Julius  Africanus  (ot  awo  toO  2tj#  (Si'/caiot), 
and  is  adopted  among  others  by  Augustine,  De  Civitate  Dei,  Book 
XV.  xxiii.,  where  the  passage  is  fully  discussed. 

6  Ps.  lxxxi.  (lxxxii.)  6,  7. 


3§4 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


hath  given  me  the  true  knowledge  of  the  things 
that  are,  to  know  the  disposition  of  the  whole 
world,  and  the  virtues  of  the  elements,  the 
beginning  and  the  ending  and  the  midst  of 
times,  the  alterations  of  their  courses  and 
the  changes  of  their  seasons,  the  revolutions 
of  the  year  and  the  disposition  of  the  stars,  the 
natures  of  living  creatures  and  the  rage  of  wild 
beasts,  the  force  of  winds,  and  the  reasonings 
of  men,  the  diversities  of  plants  and  the  virtues 
of  roots,  and  all  such  things  as  are  hid  and 
open  I  have  learnt."1  This  knowledge  then 
of  all  nature  the  seed  of  Seth  received 
through  successive  generations,  handed  down 
from  the  fathers,  so  long  as  it  remained  sepa- 
rate from  the  wicked  line,  and  as  it  had 
received  it  in  holiness,  so  it  made  use  of  it  to 
promote  the  glory  of  God  and  the  needs  of 
everyday  life.  But  when  it  had  been  mingled 
with  the  evil  generation,  it  drew  aside  at  the 
suggestion  of  devils  to  profane  and  harmful 
uses  what  it  had  innocently  learnt,  and  auda- 
ciously taught  by  it  the  curious  arts  of  wizards 
and  enchantments  and  magical  superstitions, 
teaching  its  posterity  to  forsake  the  holy  wor- 
ship of  the  Divinity  and  to  honour  and  worship 
either  the  elements  or  fire  or  the  demons  of 
the  air.  How  it  was  then  that  this  knowledge 
of  curious  arts  of  which  we  have  spoken,  did 
not  perish  in  the  deluge,  but  became  known 
to  the  ages  that  followed,  should,  I  think, 
be  briefly  explained,  as  the  occasion  of  this 
discussion  suggests,  although  the  answer  to 
the  question  raised  scarcely  requires  it.  And 
so,  as  ancient  traditions  tell  us,  Ham  the  son  of 
Noah,  who  had  been  taught  these  superstitions 
and  wicked  and  profane  arts,  as  he  knew  that 
he  could  not  possibly  bring  any  handbook  on 
these  subjects  into  the  ark,  into  which  he  was 
to  enter  with  his  good  father  and  holy  brothers, 
inscribed  these  nefarious  arts  and  profane 
devices  on  plates  of  various  metals  which 
could  not  be  destroyed  by  the  flood  of  waters, 
and  on  hard  rocks,  and  when  the  flood  was 
over  he  hunted  for  them  with  the  same  inqui- 
sitiveness  with  which  he  had  concealed  them, 
and  so  transmitted  to  his  descendants  a  seed- 
bed of  profanity  and  perpetual  sin.  In  this 
way  then  that  common  notion,  according  to 
which  men  believe  that  angels  delivered  to 
men  enchantments  and  diverse  arts,  is  in  truth 
fulfilled.  From  these  sons  of  Seth  then  and 
daughters  of  Cain,  as  we  have  said,  there  were 
Dorn  still  worse  children  who  became  mighty 
hunters,  violent  and  most  fierce  men  who 
were  termed  giants  by  reason  of  the  size  of 
their  bodies  and  their  cruelty  and  wickedness. 
For  these  first  began  to  harass  their  neighbours 


1  Wis.  vii.  17-21. 


and  to  practise  pillaging  among  men,  getting 
their  living  rather  by  rapine  than  by  being 
contented  with  the  sweat  and  labour  of  toil, 
and  their  wickedness  increased  to  such  a  pitch 
that  the  world  could  only  be  purified  by  the 
flood  and  deluge.  So  then  when  the  sons  of 
Seth  at  the  instigation  of  their  lust  had  trans- 
gressed that  command  which  had  been  for  a 
long  while  kept  by  a  natural  instinct  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world,  it  was  needful  that  it 
should  afterwards  be  restored  by  the  letter  of 
the  law:  "Thou  shalt  not  give  thy  daughter  to 
his  son  to  wife,  nor  shalt  thou  take  a  wife  of 
his  daughters  to  thy  son;  for  they  shall  seduce 
your  hearts  to  depart  from  your  God,  and  to 
follow  their  gods  and  serve  them."  2 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

An  objection,  as  to  how  an  unlawful  intermingling  with  the 
daughters  of  Cain  could  be  charged  against  the  line  of  Seth 
before  the  prohibition  of  the  law. 

Germanus  :  If  that  command  had  been 
given  to  them,  then  the  sin  of  breaking  it 
might  fairly  have  been  brought  against  them 
for  their  audacity  in  so  marrying.  But  since 
the  observance  of  that  separation  had  not  yet 
been  established  by  any  rule,  how  could  that 
intermingling  of  races  be  counted  wrong  in 
them,  as  it  had  not  been  forbidden  by  any 
command?  For  a  law  does  not  ordinarily 
forbid  crimes  that  are  past,  but  those  that  are 
future. 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

The  answer,  that  by  the  law  of  nature  men  were  from  the 
beginning  liable  to  judgment  and  punishment. 

Serenus:  God  at  man's  creation  implanted 
in  him  naturally  complete  knowledge  of  the 
law,  and  if  this  had  been  kept  by  man,  as 
at  the  beginning,  according  to  the  Lord's 
purposes,  there  would  not  have  been  any  need 
for  another  law  to  be  given,  which  He  after- 
wards proclaimed  in  writing:  for  it  were 
superfluous  for  an  external  remedy  to  be 
offered,  where  an  internal  one  was  still  im- 
planted and  vigorous.  But  since  this  had 
been,  as  we  have  said,  utterly  corrupted  by 
freedom  and. the  opportunity  of  sinning,  the 
severe  restrictions  of  the  law  of  Moses  were 
added  as  the  executor  and  vindicator  of  this 
(earlier  law)  and  to  use  the  expressions  of 
Scripture,  as  its  helper,  that  through  fear  of 
immediate  punishment  men  might  be  kept 
from  altogether   losing  the    good    of    natural 

2  Deut.  viii.  3;   Exod.  xxxiv.  16:  cf.  1  Kings  xi.  2. 


THE  SECOND  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  SERENUS. 


385 


knowledge,  according  to  the  word  of  the 
prophet  who  says  "  He  gave  the  law  to  help 
them : " *  and  it  is  also  described  by  the 
Apostle  as  having  been  given  as  a  school- 
master 2  to  little  children,  as  it  instructs  and 
guards  them  to  prevent  them  from  departing 
through  sheer  forgetfulness  from  the  teaching 
in  which  they  had  been  instructed  by  the  light 
of  nature :  for  that  the  complete  knowledge  of 
the  law  was  implanted  in  man  at  his  first 
creation,  is  clearly  proved  from  this;  viz.,  that 
we  know  that  before  the  law,  aye,  and  even 
before  the  flood,  all  holy  men  observed  the 
commands  of  the  law  without  having  the  letter 
to  read.  For  how  could  Abel,  without  the 
command  of  the  law,  have  known  that  he 
ought  to  offer  to  God  a  sacrifice  of  the  first- 
lings of  his  flock  and  of  the  fat  thereof,3  un- 
less he  had  been  taught  by  the  law  which  was 
naturally  implanted  in  him  ?  How  could  Noah 
have  distinguished  what  animals  were  clean 
and  what  were  unclean,4  when  the  command- 
ment of  the  law  had  not  yet  made  a  distinc- 
tion, unless  he  had  been  taught  by  a  natural 
knowledge  ?  Whence  did  Enoch  learn  how  to 
"walk  with  God,"5  having  never  acquired 
any  light  of  the  law  from  another?  Where 
had  Shem  and  Japheth  read  "Thou  shalt  not 
uncover  the  nakedness  of  thy  father,"  so  that 
they  went  backwards  and  covered  the  shame  of 
their  father?  6  How  was  Abraham  taught  to 
abstain  from  the  spoils  of  the  enemy  which  were 
offered  to  him,  that  he  might  not  receive  any 
recompense  for  his  toil,  or  to  pay  to  the  priest 
Melchizedec  the  tithes  which  are  ordered  by 
the  law  of  Moses?7  How  was  it  too  that 
the  same  Abraham  and  Lot  also  humbly 
offered  to  passers  by  and  strangers  offices  of 
kindness  and  the  washing  of  their  feet,  while 
yet  the  Evangelic  command  had  not  shone 
forth  ? 8  Whence  did  Job  obtain  such  earnest- 
ness of  faith,  such  purity  of  chastity,  such 
knowledge  of  humility,  gentleness,  pity  and 
kindness,  as  we  now  see  shown  not  even  by 
those  who  know  the  gospels  by  heart?  Which 
of  the  saints  do  we  read  of  as  not  having 
observed  some  commandment  of  the  law  before 
the  giving  of  the  law?  Which  of  them  failed 
to  keep  this:  "Hear,  O  Israel,  the  Lord  thy 
God  is  one  Lord?  " 9  Which  of  them  did  not 
fulfil  this :  "  Thou  shalt  not  make  to  thyself  any 
graven  image,  nor  the  likeness  of  anything 
which  is  in  heaven  or  in  the  earth  or  under 
the  earth  ?  "  Which  of  them  did  not  observe 
this:  "  Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother,"  or 
what  follows  in  the  Decalogue :   "  Thou  shalt 


1  Is.  viii.  20  (LXX.). 

2  Cf.  Gal.  iii.  24. 

3  Gen.  iv.  4. 
*  Gen.  vii.  2. 
5  Gen.  v.  22. 


8  Gen.  ix.  23  ;  Lev.  xviii.  7. 

7  Gen.  xiv.  20,  22. 

8  Gen.  xviii.,  xix. ;  cf.  S.  John  xiii.  34. 

9  Deut.  vi.  4. 


do  no  murder;  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adul- 
tery; Thou  shalt  not  steal;  Thou  shalt  not 
bear  false  witness ;  Thou  shalt  not  covet  thy 
neighbour's  wife,"  10  and  many  other  things  be- 
sides, in  which  they  anticipated  the  commands 
not  only  of  the  law  but  even  of  the  gospel  ? 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Of  the  fact  that  they  were  justly  punished,  who  sinned  before 
the  flood. 

And  so  then  we  see  that  from  the  beginning 
God  created  everything  perfect,  nor  would 
there  have  been  need  for  anything  to  have 
been  added  to  His  original  arrangement  —  as 
if  it  were  shortsighted  and  imperfect — if 
everything  had  continued  in  that  state  and 
condition  in  which  it  had  been  created  by 
Him.  And  therefore  in  the  case  of  those 
who  sinned  before  the  law  and  even  before  the 
flood  we  see  that  God  visited  them  with  a 
righteous  judgment,  because  they  deserved  to 
be  punished  without  any  excuse,  for  having 
transgressed  the  law  of  nature ;  nor  should  we 
fall  into  the  blasphemous  slanders  of  those 
who  are  ignorant  of  this  reason,  and  so  depre- 
ciate the  God  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  run 
down  our  faith,  and  say  with  a  sneer:  Why 
then  did  it  please  your  God  to  will  to  promul- 
gate the  law  after  so  many  thousand  years, 
while  He  suffered  such  long  ages  to  pass  with- 
out any  law?  But  if  He  afterwards  discovered 
something  better,  then  it  appears  that  at  the 
beginning  of  the  world  His  wisdom  was  infe- 
rior and  poorer,  and  that  afterwards  as  if  taught 
by  experience  He  began  to  provide  for  some- 
thing better,  and  to  amend  and  improve  His 
original  arrangements.  A  thing  which  cer- 
tainly cannot  happen  to  the  infinite  foreknow- 
ledge of  God,  nor  can  these  assertions  be  made 
about  Him  by  the  mad  folly  of  heretics  with- 
out grievous  blasphemy,  as  Ecclesiastes  says : 
"  I  have  learnt  that  all  the  words  which  God 
hath  made  from  the  beginning  shall  continue 
forever:  nothing  can  be  added  to  them,  and 
nothing  can  be  taken  away  from  them,"  n  and 
therefore  "  the  law  is  not  made  for  the  righteous, 
but  for  the  unrighteous,  and  insubordinate,  for 
the  ungodly  and  sinners,  for  the  wicked  and 
profane."1'2  For  as  they  had  the  sound  and 
complete  system  of  natural  laws  implanted  in 
them  they  had  no  need  of  this  external  law  in 
addition,  and  one  committed  to  writing,  and 
what  was  given  as  an  aid  to  that  natural  law. 
From  which  we  infer  by  the  clearest  of  reason- 
ings that  that  law  committed  to  writing  need  not 
have  been  given  at  the  beginning  (for  it  was 

i»  Exod.  xx.  4-17.        J1  Eccl.  iii.  14.  (LXX.).     ^  1  Tim.  i-9. 


386 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


unnecessary  for  this  to  be  done  while  the 
natural  law  still  remained,  and  was  not  utterly 
violated)  nor  could  evangelical  perfection 
have  been  granted  before  the  law  had  been 
kept.  For  they  could  not  have  listened  to  this 
saying:  "If  a  man  strikes  thee  on  the  right 
cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other  also,"  1  who  were 
not  content  to  avenge  wrongs  done  to  them 
with  the  even  justice  of  the  lex  talionis,  but 
repaid  a  very  slight  touch  with  deadly  kicks 
and  wounds  with  weapons,  and  for  a  single 
truth  sought  to  take  the  life  of  those  who  had 
struck  them.  Nor  could  it  be  said  to  them. 
"love  your  enemies,"2  among  whom  it  was 
considered  a  great  thing  and  most  important 
if  they  loved  their  friends,  but  avoided  their 
enemies  and  dissented  from  them  only  in 
hatred  without  being  eager  to  oppress  and 
kill  them. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

How  this  that  is  said  of  the  devil  in  the  gospel  is  to  be  under- 
stood ;  viz.,  that  "  he  is  a  liar,  and  his  father." 

But  as  for  this  which  disturbed  you  about 
the  devil,  that  "he  is  a  liar  and  his  father,"3 
as  if  it  seemed  that  he  and  his  father  were 
pronounced  by  the  Lord  to  be  liars,  it  is 
sufficiently  ridiculous  to  imagine  this  even 
cursorily.  For  as  we  said  a  little  while  ago 
spirit  does  not  beget  spirit  just  as  soul  cannot 
procreate  soul,  though  we  do  not  doubt  that 
the  compacting  of  flesh  is  formed  from  man's 
seed,  as  the  Apostle  clearly  distinguishes  in 
the  case  of  both  substances  ;  viz.,  flesh  and 
spirit,  what  should  be  ascribed  to  whom  as  its 
author,  and  says :  "  Moreover  we  have  had 
fathers  of  our  flesh  for  instructors,  and  we  reve- 
renced them :  shall  we  not  much  more  be  in 
subjection  to  the  Father  of  spirits  and  live  ?  "  4 
What  could  show  more  clearly  than  this  dis- 
tinction, that  he  laid  down  that  men  were  the 
fathers  of  our  flesh,  but  always  taught  that 
God  alone  was  the  Father  of  souls.  Although 
even  in  the  actual  compacting  of  this  body  a 
ministerial  office  alone  must  be  attributed  to 
men,  but  the  chief  part  of  its  formation  to 
God  the  Creator  of  all,  as  David  says:  "Thy 
hands  have  made  me  and  fashioned  me :  " 5 
And  the  blessed  Job:  "Hast  thou  not  milked 
me  as  milk,  and  curdled  me  as  cheese?  Thou 
hast  put  me  together  with  bones  and  sinews ;  "  6 
and  the  Lord  to  Jeremiah :  "  Before  I  formed 
thee  in  the  womb,  I  knew  thee."  7  But  Eccle-  j 
siastes  very  clearly  and  accurately  gathers 
the  nature  of  either  substance,  and  its  begin- 


1  S.  Matt.  v.  39. 

2  lb.  ver.  44. 

3  S.  John  viii.  44. 


4  Heb.  xii.  9. 

6  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  73. 


6  Job  x.  10,  11. 

7  Jer.  i.  5. 


ning,  by  an  examination  of  the  rise  and  com- 
mencement, from  which  each  originated,  and 
by  a  consideration  of  the  end  to  which  each  is 
tending,  and  decides  also  of  the  division  of 
this  body  and  soul,  and  discourses  as  follows : 
"  Before  the  dust  returns  to  the  earth  as  it  was, 
and  the  spirit  returns  unto  God  who  gave  it. "  8 
But  what  could  be  said  with  greater  plainness 
than  that  he  declares  that  the  matter  of  the 
flesh  which  he  styled  dust,  because  it  springs 
from  the  seed  of  man,  and  seems  to  be  sown 
by  his  ministration,  must,  as  it  was  taken 
from  the  earth,  again  return  to  the  earth, 
while  he  points  out  that  the  spirit  which 
is  not  begotten  by  intercourse  between  the 
sexes,  but  belongs  to  God  alone  in  a  special 
way,  returns  to  its  creator?  And  this'  also 
is  clearly  implied  in  that  breathing  by  God, 
through  which  Adam  in  the  first  instance 
received  his  life.  And  so  from  these  passages 
we  clearly  infer  that  no  one  can  be  called  the 
Father  of  spirits  but  God  alone,  who  makes 
them  out  of  nothing  whenever  He  pleases, 
while  men  can  only  be  termed  the  fathers 
of  our  flesh.  So  then  the  devil  also  in  as 
much  as  he  was  created  a  spirit  or  an  angel 
and  good,  had  no  one  as  his  Father  but  God 
his  Maker.  But  when  he  had  become  puffed 
up  by  pride  and  had  said  in  his  heart :  "  I  will 
ascend  above  the  heights  of  the  clouds,  I  will 
be  like  the  Most  High,"  9  he  became  a  liar,  and 
' '  abode  not  in  the  truth ;  "  10  but  brought  forth 
a  lie  from  his  own  storehouse  of  wickedness 
and  so  became  not  only  a  liar,  but  also  the 
father  of  the  actual  lie,  by  which  when  he 
promised  Divinity  to  man  and  said  "Ye  shall 
be  as  gods,"  n  he  abode  not  in  the  truth,  but 
from  the  beginning  became  a  murderer,  both 
by  bringing  Adam  into  a  state  of  mortality,  and 
by  slaying  Abel  by  the  hand  of  his  brother 
at  his  suggestion.  But  already  the  approach 
of  dawn  is  bringing  to  a  close  our  discus- 
sion, which  has  occupied  nearly  two  whole 
nights,  and  our  brief  and  simple  words  have 
drawn  our  bark  of  this  Conference  from  the 
deep  sea  of  questions  to  a  safe  harbour  of 
silence,  in  which  deep  indeed,  as  the  breath 
of  the  Divine  Spirit  drives  us  further  in,  so  is 
there  ever  opened  out  a  wider  and  boundless 
space  reaching  beyond  the  sight  of  our  eye, 
and,  as  Solomon  says,  "  It  will  become  much 
further  from  us  than  it  was,  and  a  great  depth  ; 
who  shall  find  it  out  ?  " 12  Wherefore  let  us 
pray  the  Lord  that  both  His  fear  and  His 
love,  which  cannot  fail,  may  continue  stead- 
fast in  us,  and  make  us  wise  in  all  things, 
and  ever  shield  us  unharmed,  from  the  darts 


8  Eccl.  xii.  7. 
8  Is.  xiv.  14. 


10  S.  John  viii  44. 

11  Gen.  iii.  5. 


12  Eccl.  vii.  25. 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    ISAAC. 


387 


of  the  devil.  For  with  these  guards  it  is  im- 
possible for  anyone  to  fall  into  the  snares  of 
death.  But  there  is  this  difference  between 
the  perfect  and  imperfect,  that  in  the  case  of 
the  former  love  is  steadfast,  and  so  to  speak 
riper  and  lasts  more  abidingly  and  so  makes 
them  persevere  in  holiness  more  steadfastly 
and  more  easily,  while  in  the  case  of  the  latter 


its  position  is  weaker  and  it  more  easily  grows 
cold,  and  so  quickly  and  more  frequently 
allows  them  to  be  entangled  in  the  snares  of 
sin.  And  when  we  heard  this,  the  words  of 
this  Conference  so  fired  us  that  when  we  went 
away  from  the  old  man's  cell  we  longed  with 
a  keener  ardour  of  soul  than  when  we  first 
came,  for  the  fulfilment  of  his  teaching. 


IX. 

THE   FIRST   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   ISAAC. 

ON  PR  A  YER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Introduction  to  the  Conference. 

What  was  promised  in  the  second  book  of 
the  Institutes1  on  continual  and  unceasing 
perseverance  in  prayer,  shall  be  by  the  Lord's 
help  fulfilled  by  the  Conferences  of  this  Elder, 
whom  we  will  now  bring  forward ;  viz. ,  Abbot 
Isaac  :2  and  when  these  have  been  propounded 
I  think  that  I  shall  have  satisfied  the  com- 
mands of  Pope  Castor  of  blessed  memory,  and 
your  wishes,  O  blessed  Pope  Leontius  and 
holy  brother  Helladius,  and  the  length  of  the 
book  in  its  earlier  part  may  be  excused, 
though,  in  spite  of  our  endeavour  not  only  to 
compress  what  had  to  be  told  into  a  brief 
discourse,  but  also  to  pass  over  very  many 
points  in  silence,  it  has  been  extended  to  a 
greater  length  than  we  intended.  For  having 
commenced  with  a  full  discourse  on  various 
regulations  which  we  have  thought  it  well  to 
curtail  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  at  the  close 
the  blessed  Isaac  spoke  these  words. 


CHAPTER   II. 

The  words  of  Abbot  Isaac  on  the  nature  of  prayer. 

The  aim  of  every  monk  and  the  perfection 
of  his  heart  tends  to  continual  and  unbroken 
perseverance  in  prayer,  and,  as  far  as  it  is 
allowed  to  human  frailty,  strives  to  acquire 
an  immovable  tranquillity  of  mind  and  a  per- 


1  See  the  Institutes  Book  II.  c.  ix. 

2  Isaac  was,  as  we  gather  from  c.  xxxi.,  a  disciple  of  St.  Antony, 
and  is  mentioned  by  Palladius  Dial,  de  vita  Chrysost.  There  are 
also  a  few  stories  of  him  in  the  Apophegmnta  Patrum  (Migne, 
Vol.  lxv.  p.  223);  and  see  the  Dictionary  of  Christian  Biography, 
Vol.  iii.  p.  294. 


petual  purity,  for  the  sake  of  which  we  seek 
unweariedly  and  constantly  to  practise  all 
bodily  labours  as  well  as  contrition  of  spirit. 
And  there  is  between  these  two  a  sort  of 
reciprocal  and  inseparable  union.  For  just 
as  the  crown  of  the  building  of  all  virtues 
is  the  perfection  of  prayer,  so  unless  every- 
thing has  been  united  and  compacted  by  this 
as  its  crown,  it  cannot  possibly  continue 
strong  and  stable.  For  lasting  and  continual 
calmness  in  prayer,  of  which  we  are  speaking, 
cannot  be  secured  or  consummated  without 
them,  so  neither  can  those  virtues  which  lay 
its  foundations  be  fully  gained  without  per- 
sistence in  it.  And  so  we  shall  not  be  able 
either  to  treat  properly  of  the  effect  of  prayer, 
or  in  a  rapid  discourse  to  penetrate  to  its 
main  end,  which  is  acquired  by  labouring  at 
all  virtues,  unless  first  all  those  things  which 
for  its  sake  must  be  either  rejected  or  secured, 
are  singly  enumerated  and  discussed,  and, 
as  the  Parable  in  the  gospel  teaches,3  what- 
ever concerns  the  building  of  that  spiritual 
and  most  lofty  tower,  is  reckoned  up  and  care- 
fully considered  beforehand.  But  yet  these 
things  when  prepared  will  be  of  no  use  nor 
allow  the  lofty  height  of  perfection  to  be 
properly  placed  upon  them  unless  a  clearance 
of  all  faults  be  first  undertaken,  and  the 
decayed  and  dead  rubbish  of  the  passions 
be  dug  up,  and  the  strong  foundations  of 
simplicity  and  humility  be  laid  on  the  solid 
and  (so  to  speak)  living  soil  of  our  breast,  or 
rather  on  that  rock  of  the  gospel, 4  and  by  being 
built  in  this  way  this  tower  of  spiritual  virtues 
will  rise,  and  be  able  to  stand  unmoved,  and 
be  raised  to  the  utmost  heights  of  heaven  in 
full  assurance  of  its  stability.      For  if  it  rests 


3  Cf.  S.  Luke  xiv. 


4  Cf.  S.  Luke  vi.  4S. 


:SS 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


on  such  foundations,  then  though  heavy  storms 
of  passions  break  over  it,  though  mighty  tor- 
rents of  persecutions  beat  against  it  like  a 
battering  ram,  though  a  furious  tempest  of 
spiritual  foes  dash  against  it  and  attack  it, 
yet  not  only  will  no  ruin  overtake  it,  but  the 
onslaught  will  not  injure  it  even  in  the  slight- 
est degree. 

CHAPTER    III. 

How  pure  and  sincere  prayer  can  be  gained. 

And  therefore  in  order  that  prayer  may  be 
offered  up  with  that  earnestness  and  purity 
with  which  it  ought  to  be,  we  must  by  all 
means  observe  these  rules.  First  all  anxiety 
about  carnal  things  must  be  entirely  got  rid 
of;  next  we  must  leave  no  room  for  not  merely 
the  care  but  even  the  recollection  of  any  busi- 
ness affairs,  and  in  like  manner  also  must  lay 
aside  all  backbitings,  vain  and  incessant 
chattering,  and  buffoonery;  anger  above  all, 
and  disturbing  moroseness  must  be  entirely 
destroyed,  and  the  deadly  taint  of  carnal  lust 
and  covetousness  be  torn  up  by  the  roots. 
And  so  when  these  and  such  like  faults 
which  are  also  visible  to  the  eyes  of  men,  are 
entirely  removed  and  cut  off,  and  when  such 
a  purification  and  cleansing,  as  we  spoke  of, 
has  first  taken  place,  which  is  brought  about 
by  pure  simplicity  and  innocence,  then  first 
there  must  be  laid  the  secure  foundations  of 
a  deep  humility,  which  may  be  able  to  support 
a  tower  that  shall  reach  the  sky  ;  and  next 
the  spiritual  structure  of  the  virtues  must  be 
built  up  upon  them,  and  the  soul  kept  free 
from  all  conversation  and  from  roving  thoughts 
that  thus  it  may  by  little  and  little  begin  to 
rise  to  the  contemplation  of  God  and  to  spi- 
ritual insight.  For  whatever  our  mind  has 
been  thinking  of  before  the  hour  of  prayer, 
is  sure  to  occur  to  us  while  we  are  praying 
through  the  activity  of  the  memory.  Where- 
fore what  we  want  to  find  ourselves  like  while 
we  are  praying,  that  we  ought  to  prepare  our- 
selves to  be  before  the  time  for  prayer.  For  the 
mind  in  prayer  is  formed  by  its  previous  con- 
dition, and  when  we  are  applying  ourselves 
to  prayer  the  images  of  the  same  actions  and 
words  and  thoughts  will  dance  before  our 
eyes,  and  make  us  either  angry,  as  in  our  pre- 
vious condition,  or  gloomy,  or  recall  our  former 
lust  and  business,  or  make  us  shake  with  fool- 
ish laughter  (which  I  am  ashamed  to  speak  of) 
at  some  silly  joke,  or  smile  at  some  action,  or 
fly  back  to  our  previous  conversation.  And 
therefore  if  we  do  not  want  anything  to  haunt 
us  while  we  are  praying,  we  should  be  careful 
before    our   pra)  er,    to    exclude    it   from    the 


shrine  of  our  heart,  that  we  may  thus  fulfill 
the  Apostle's  injunction:  "Pray  without  ceas- 
ing;" and:  "In  every  place  lifting  up  holy 
hands  without  wrath  or  disputing."  1  For  other- 
wise we  shall  not  be  able  to  carry  out  that 
charge  unless  our  mind,  purified  from  all  stains 
of  sin,  and  given  over  to  virtue  as  to  its  natural 
good,  feed  on  the  continual  contemplation  of 
Almighty  God. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Of  the  lightness  of  the  soul  which  may  be  compared  to  a 
wing  or  feather. 

For  the  nature  of  the  soul  is  not  inaptly 
compared  to  a  very  fine  feather  or  very  light 
wing,  which,  if  it  has  not  been  damaged  or 
affected  by  being  spoilt  by  any  moisture  fall- 
ing on  it  from  without,  is  borne  aloft  almost 
naturally  to  the  heights  of  heaven  by  the 
lightness  of  its  nature,  and  the  aid  of  the 
slightest  breath:  but  if  it  is  weighted  by  any 
moisture  falling  upon  it  and  penetrating  into 
it,  it  will  not  only  not  be  carried  away  by  its 
natural  lightness  into  any  aerial  flights  but 
will  actually  be  borne  down  to  the  depths  of 
earth  by  the  weight  of  the  moisture  it  has 
received.  So  also  our  soul,  if  it  is  not 
weighted  with  faults  that  touch  it,  and  the 
cares  of  this  world,  or  damaged  by  the  mois- 
ture of  injurious  lusts,  will  be  raised  as  it 
were  by  the  natural  blessing  of  its  own  purity 
and  borne  aloft  to  the  heights  by  the  light 
breath  of  spiritual  meditation;  and  leaving 
things  low  and  earthly  will  be  transported  to 
those  that  are  heavenly  and  invisible.  Where- 
fore we  are  well  warned  by  the  Lord's  com- 
mand :  "  Take  heed  that  your  hearts  be  not 
weighed  down  by  surfeiting  and  drunkenness 
and  the  cares  of  this  world."  2  And  therefore 
if  we  want  our  prayers  to  reach  not  only  the 
sky,  but  what  is  beyond  the  sky,  let  us  be 
careful  to  reduce  our  soul,  purged  from  all 
earthly  faults  and  purified  from  every  stain, 
to  its  natural  lightness,  that  so  our  prayer 
may  rise  to  God  unchecked  by  the  weight  of 
any  sin. 

CHAPTER   V. 

Of  the  ways  in  which  our  soul  is  weighed  down. 

But  we  should  notice  the  ways  in  which 
the  Lord  points  out  that  the  soul  is  weighed 
down:  for  He  did  not  mention  adultery,  or 
fornication,  or  murder,  or  blasphemy,  or  rapine, 
which    everybody   knows    to    be    deadly  and 


1  i  Thess.  v.  17  ;   I  Tim.  ii.  S. 


2  S.  Luke  xxi.  34. 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    ISAAC. 


389 


damnable,  but  surfeiting  and  drunkenness, 
and  the  cares  or  anxieties  of  this  world: 
which  men  of  this  world  are  so  far  from  avoid- 
ing or  considering  damnable  that  actually- 
some  who  (I  am  ashamed  to  say)  call  them- 
selves monks  entangle  themselves  in  these 
very  occupations  as  if  they  were  harmless  or 
useful.  And  though  these  three  things,  when 
literally  given  way  to  weigh  down  the  soul, 
and  separate  it  from  God,  and  bear  it  down  to 
things  earthly,  yet  it  is  very  easy  to  avoid 
them,  especially  for  us  who  are  separated  by 
so  great  a  distance  from  all  converse  with 
this  world,  and  who  do  not  on  any  occasion 
have  anything  to  do  with  those  visible  cares 
and  drunkenness  and  surfeiting.  But  there  is 
another  surfeiting  which  is  no  less  dangerous, 
and  a  spiritual  drunkenness  which  it  is  harder 
to  avoid,  and  a  care  and  anxiety  of  this  world, 
which  often  ensnares  us  even  after  the  perfect 
renunciation  of  all  our  goods,  and  abstinence 
from  wine  and  all  feastings  and  even  when  we 
are  living  in  solitude  —  and  of  such  the  prophet 
says :  "  Awake,  ye  that  are  drunk  but  not  with 
wine;"1  and  another:  "Be  astonished  and 
wonder  and  stagger:  be  drunk  and  not  with 
wine:  be  moved,  but  not  with  drunkenness."2 
And  of  this  drunkenness  the  wine  must  conse- 
quently be  what  the  prophet  calls  "the  fury  of 
dragons  "  :  and  from  what  root  the  wine  comes 
you  may  hear :  "  From  the  vineyard  of  Sodom," 
he  says,  "  is  their  vine,  and  their  branches  from 
Gomorrha."  Would  you  also  know  about  the 
fruit  of  that  vine  and  the  seed  of  that  branch? 
"Their  grape  is  a  grape  of  gall,  theirs  is  a 
cluster  of  bitterness  "  3  for  unless  we  are  alto- 
gether cleansed  from  all  faults  and  abstain- 
ing from  the  surfeit  of  all  passions,  our  heart 
will  without  drunkenness  from  wine  and  excess 
of  any  feasting  be  weighed  down  by  a  drunken- 
ness and  surfeiting  that  is  still  more  dangerous. 
For  that  worldly  cares  can  sometimes  fall  on 
us  who  mix  with  no  actions  of  this  world,  is 
clearly  shown  according  to  the  rule  of  the 
Elders,  who  have  laid  down  that  anything 
which  goes  beyond  the  necessities  of  daily 
food,  and  the  unavoidable  needs  of  the  flesh, 
belongs  to  worldly  cares  and  anxieties,  as  for 
example  if,  when  a  job  bringing  in  a  penny 
would  satisfy  the  needs  of  our  body,  we  try  to 
extend  it  by  a  longer  toil  and  work  in  order 
to  get  twopence  or  threepence;  and  when  a 
covering  of  two  tunics  would  be  enough  for 
our  use  both  by  night  and  day,  we  manage  to 
become  the  owners  of  three  or  four,  or  when 
a  hut  containing  one  or  two  cells  would  be 
sufficient,  in  the  pride  of  worldly  ambition 
and  greatness  we  build  four  or  five  cells,  and 


1  Joel  i.  5. 


2  Is.  xxix,  9. 


3  Deut.  xxxii.  32,  33. 


these  splendidly  decorated,  .and  larger  than 
our  needs  required,  thus  showing  the  passion 
of  worldly  lusts  whenever  we  can. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Of  the  vision  which  a  certain  Elder  saw  concerning  the  rest- 
less work  of  a  brother. 

And  that  this  is  not  done  without  the 
prompting  of  devils  we  are  taught  by  the  surest 
proofs,  for  when  one  very  highly  esteemed 
Elder  was  passing  by  the  cell  of  a  certain 
brother  who  was  suffering  from  this  mental 
disease  of  which  we  have  spoken,  as  he  was 
restlessly  toiling  in  his  daily  occupations  in 
building  and  repairing  what  was  unnecessary, 
he  watched  him  from  a  distance  breaking  a 
very  hard  stone  with  a  heavy  hammer,"  and 
saw  a  certain  Ethiopian  standing  over  him  and 
together  with  him  striking  the  blows  of  the 
hammer  with  joined  and  clasped  hands,  and 
urging  him  on  with  fiery  incitements  to  dili- 
gence in  the  work:  and  so  he  stood  still  for  a 
long  while  in  astonishment  at  the  force  of  the 
fierce  demon  and  the  deceitfulness  of  such 
an  illusion.  For  when  the  brother  was  worn 
out  and  tired  and  wanted  to  rest  and  put  an 
end  to  his  toil,  he  was  stimulated  by  the 
spirit's  prompting  and  urged  on  to  resume  his 
hammer  again  and  not  to  cease  from  devoting 
himself  to  the  work  which  he  had  begun,  so 
that  being  unweariedly  supported  by  his  in- 
citements he  did  not  feel  the  harm  that  so 
great  labour  was  doing  him.  At  last  then  the 
old  man,  disgusted  at  such  a  horrid  mystifica- 
tion by  a  demon,  turned  aside  to  the  brother's 
cell  and  saluted  him,  and  asked  "what  work 
is  it,  brother,  that  you  are  doing?"  and  he 
replied:  "We  are  working  at  this  awfully 
hard  stone,  and  we  can  hardly  break  it  at  all." 
Whereupon  the  Elder  replied :  "  You  were  right 
in  saying  'we  can, '  for  you  were  not  alone, 
when  you  were  striking  it,  but  there  was 
another  with  you  whom  you  did  not  see, 
who  was  standing  over  you  not  so  much  to 
help  you  as  urge  you  on  with  all  his  force." 
And  thus  the  fact  that  the  disease  of  worldly 
vanity  has  not  got  hold  of  our  hearts,  will  be 
proved  by  no  mere  abstinence  from  those 
affairs  which  even  if  we  want  to  engage  in,  -we 
cannot  carry  out,  nor  by  the  despising  of  those 
matters  which  if  we  pursued  them  would  make 
us  remarkable  in  the  front  rank  among  spi- 
ritual persons  as  well  as  among  worldly  men, 
but  only  when  we  reject  with  inflexible  firm- 
ness of  mind  whatever  ministers  to  our  power 
and  seems  to  be  veiled  in  a  show  of  right. 
And  in  reality  these  things  which  seem  trivial 


39° 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


and  of  no  consequence,  and  which  we  see  to 
be  permitted  indifferently  by  those  who  belong 
to  our  calling,  none  the  less  by  their  character 
affect  the  soul  than  those  more  important 
things,  which  according  to  their  condition  usu- 
ally intoxicate  the  senses  of  worldly  people 
and  which  do  not  allow  1  a  monk  to  lay  aside 
earthly  impurities  and  aspire  to  God,  on  whom 
his  attention  should  ever  be  fixed;  for  in  his 
case  even  a  slight  separation  from  that  highest 
good  must  be  regarded  as  present  death  and 
most  dangerous  destruction.  And  when  the 
soul  has  been  established  in  such  a  peaceful 
condition,  and  has  been  freed  from  the  meshes 
of  all  carnal  desires,  and  the  purpose  of  the 
heart  has  been  steadily  fixed  on  that  which  is 
the  only  highest  good,  he  will  then  fulfil  this 
Apostolic  precept:  "Pray  without  ceasing;" 
and :  "  in  every  place  lifting  up  holy  hands 
without  wrath  and  disputing:  "  2  for  when  by 
this  purity  (if  we  can  say  so)  the  thoughts  of 
the  soul  are  engrossed,  and  are  re-fashioned 
out  of  their  earthly  condition  to  bear  a  spirit- 
ual and  angelic  likeness,  whatever  it  receives, 
whatever  it  takes  in  hand,  whatever  it  does,  the 
prayer  will  be  perfectly  pure  and  sincere. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

A  question  how  it  is  that  it  is  harder  work  to  preserve  than  to 
originate  good  thoughts. 

Germanus:  If  only  we  could  keep  as  a 
lasting  possession  those  spiritual  thoughts  in 
the  same  way  and  with  the  same  ease  with 
which  we  generally  conceive  their  germs!  for 
when  they  have  been  conceived  in  our  hearts 
either  through  the  recollection  of  the  Scrip- 
tures or  by  the  memory  of '  some  spiritual 
actions,  or  by  gazing  upon  heavenly  mysteries, 
they  vanish  all  too  soon  and  disappear  by  a 
sort  of  unnoticed  flight.  And  when  our  soul 
has  discovered  some  other  occasions  for  spi- 
ritual emotions,  different  ones  again  crowd  in 
upon  us,  and  those  which  we  had  grasped  are 
scattered,  and  lightly  fly  away  so  that  the 
mind  retaining  no  persistency,  and  keeping  of 
its  own  power  no  firm  hand  over  holy  thoughts, 
must  be  thought,  even  when  it  does  seem  to 
retain  them  for  a  while,  to  have  conceived 
them  at  random  and  not  of  set  purpose.  For 
how  can  we  think  that  their  rise  should  be 
ascribed  to  our  own  will,  if  they  do  not  last 
and  remain  with  us?  But  that  we  may  not 
owing  to   the   consideration   of  this  question 


1  Siuentes,  though  the  reading  of  almost  all   MSS.  must  be  an 
error  either  of  the  author  or  of  a  copyist  for  sinentia. 

2  i  Thess.  v.  17;  1  Tiin.  ii.  S. 


wander  any  further  from  the  plan  of  the  dis- 
course we  had  commenced,  or  delay  any  longer 
the  explanation  promised  of  the  nature  of 
prayer,  we  will  keep  this  for  its  own  time, 
and  ask  to  be  informed  at  once  of  the  cha- 
racter of  prayer,  especially  as  the  blessed 
Apostle  exhorts  us  at  no  time  to  cease  from 
it,  saying  "  Pray  without  ceasing. "  And  so  we 
want  to  be  taught  first  of  its  character,  i.  e. ,  how 
prayer  ought  always  to  be  offered  up,  and 
then  how  we  can  secure  this,  whatever  it  is, 
and  practise  it  without  ceasing.  For  that  it 
cannot  be  done  by  any  light  purpose  of  heart 
both  daily  experience  and  the  explanation  of 
your  holiness  show  us,  as  you  have  laid  it 
down  that  the  aim  of  a  monk,  and  the  height 
of  all  perfection  consist  in  the  consummation 
of  prayei. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Of  the  different  characters  of  prayer. 

Isaac  :  I  imagine  that  all  kinds  of  prayers 
cannot  be  grasped  without  great  purity  of  heart 
and  soul  and  the  illumination  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  For  there  are  as  many  of  them  as 
there  can  be  conditions  and  characters  pro- 
duced in  one  soul  or  rather  in  all  souls.  And 
so  although  we  know  that  owing  to  our  dul- 
ness  of  heart  we  cannot  see  all  kinds  of 
prayers,  yet  we  will  try  to  relate  them  in  some 
order, as  far  as  our  slender  experience  enables 
us  to  succeed.  For  according  to  the  degree 
of  the  purity  to  which  each  soul  attains,  and 
the  character  of  the  state  in  which  it  is  sunk 
owing  to  what  happens  to  it,  or  is  by  its  own 
efforts  renewing  itself,  its  very  prayers  will 
each  moment  be  altered :  and  therefore  it  is 
quite  clear  that  no  one  can  always  offer  up 
uniform  prayers./'  For  every  one  prays  in  one 
way  when  he  is  brisk,  in  another  when  he  is 
oppressed  with  a  weight  of  sadness  or  despair, 
in  another  when  he  is  invigorated  by  spiritual 
achievements,  in  another  when  cast  down  by  the 
burden  of  attacks,  in  another  when  he  is  ask- 
ing pardon  for  his  sins,  in  another  when  he 
asks  to  obtain  grace  or  some  virtue  or  else 
prays  for  the  destruction  of  some  sin,  in  another 
when  he  is  pricked  to  the  heart  by  the  thought 
of  hell  and  the  fear  of  future  judgment,  in 
another  when  he  is  aglow  with  the  hope  and 
desire  of  good  things  to  come,  in  another 
when  he  is  taken  up  with  affairs  and  dangers, 
in  another  when  he  is  in  peace  and  security,  in 
another  when  he  is  enlightened  by  the  revela- 
tion of  heavenly  mysteries,  and  in  another 
when  he  is  depressed  by  a  sense  of  barrenness 
in  virtues  and  dryness  in  feeling. 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    ISAAC. 


391 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Of  the  fourfold  nature  of  prayer. 

And  therefore,  when  we  have  laid  this  down 
with  regard  to  the  character  of  prayer,  although 
not  so  fully  as  the  importance  of  the  subject 
requires,  but  as  fully  as  the  exigencies  of 
time  permit,  and  at  any  rate  as  our  slender 
abilities  admit,  and  our  dulness  of  heart  en- 
ables us,  —  a  still  greater  difficulty  now  awaits 
us;  viz.,  to  expound  one  by  one  the  different 
kinds  of  prayer,  which  the  Apostle  divides  in 
a  fourfold  manner,  when  he  says  as  follows : 
"I  exhort  therefore  first  of  all  that  suppli- 
cations, prayers,  intercessions,  thanksgivings 
be  made."1  And  we  cannot  possibly  doubt 
that  this  division  was  not  idly  made  by  the 
Apostle.  And  to  begin  with  we  must  investi- 
gate what  is  meant  by  supplication,  by  prayer, 
by  intercession,  and  by  thanksgiving.  Next 
we  must  inquire  whether  these  four  kinds  are 
to  be  taken  in  hand  by  him  who  prays  all  at 
once,  i.e.,  are  they  all  to  be  joined  together  in 
every  prayer, —  or  whether  they  are  to  be  offered 
up  in  turns  and  one  by  one,  as,  for  instance, 
ought  at  one  time  supplications,  at  another 
prayers,  at  another  intercessions,  and  at 
another  thanksgivings  to  be  offered,  or  should 
one  man  present  to  God  supplications,  another 
prayers,  another  intercessions,  another  thanks- 
givings, in  accordance  with  that  measure  of 
age,  to  which  each  soul  is  advancing  by 
earnestness  of  purpose? 

CHAPTER   X. 

Of  the  order  of  the  different  kinds  laid  down  with  regard  to  the 
character  of  prayer. 

And  so  to  begin  with  we  must  consider  the 
actual  force  of  the  names  and  words,  and  dis- 
cuss what  is  the  difference  between  prayer 
and  supplication  and  intercession;  then  in 
like  manner  we  must  investigate  whether  they 
are  to  be  offered  separately  or  all  together: 
and  in  the  third  place  must  examine  whether 
the  particular  order  which  is  thus  arranged  by 
the  Apostle's  authority  has  anything  further 
to  teach  the  hearer,  or  whether  the  distinction 
simply  is  to  be  taken,  and  it  should  be  con- 
sidered that  they  were  arranged  by  him  in- 
differently in  such  a  way :  a  thing  which  seems 
to  me  utterly  absurd.  For  one  must  not 
believe  that  the  Holy  Spirit  uttered  anything 
casually  or  without  reason  through  the  Apostle. 
And  so  we  will,  as  the  Lord  grants  us,  con- 
sider them  in  the  same  order  in  which  we 
began. 


1  1  Tim.  ii.  i. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Of  Supplications. 

"I  exhort  therefore  first  of  all  that  suppli- 
cations be  made."  Supplication  is  an  implor- 
ing or  petition  concerning  sins,  in  which  one 
who  is  sorry  for  his  present  or  past  deeds  asks 
for  pardon. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Of  Prayer. 

Prayers  are  those  by  which  we  offer  or  vow 
something  to  God,  what  the  Greeks  call  ei'tfrj, 
i.e.,  a  vow.  For  where  we  read  in  Greek  iug 
tvyuQ  fjov  toJ  Kvqico  dmodowo),  in  Latin  we  read: 
"  I  will  pay  my  vows  unto  the  Lord ;  "  2  where 
according  to  the  exact  force  of  the  words  it 
may  be  thus  represented :  "  I  will  pay  my 
prayers  unto  the  Lord."  And  this  which  we 
find  in  Ecclesiastes :  "If  thou  vowest  a  vow 
unto  the  Lord  do  not  delay  to  pay  it,"  is  writ- 
ten in  Greek  likewise:  hiv  li>^  ivyji1'  Tf-J  xvglco, 
i.e.,  "If  thou  prayest  a  prayer  unto  the  Lord, 
do  not  delay  to  pay  it,"3  which  will  be  ful- 
filled in  this  way  by  each  one  of  us.  We 
pray,  when  we  renounce  this  world  and 
promise  that  being  dead  to  all  worldly  actions 
and  the  life  of  this  world  we  will  serve  the 
Lord  with  full  purpose  of  heart.  We  pray  when 
we  promise  that  despising  secular  honours  and 
scorning  earthly  riches  we  will  cleave  to  the 
Lord  in  all  sorrow  of  heart  and  humility  of 
spirit.  We  pray  when  we  promise  that  we 
will  ever  maintain  the  most  perfect  purity  of 
body  and  steadfast  patience,  or  when  we  vow 
that  we  will  utterly  root  out  of  our  heart  the 
roots  of  anger  or  of  sorrow  that  worketh  death. 
And  if,  enervated  by  sloth  and  returning  to 
our  former  sins  we  fail  to  do  this  we  shall  be 
guilty  as  regards  our  prayers  and  vows,  and 
these  words  will  apply  to  us :  "  It  is  better  not 
to  vow,  than  to  vow  and  not  to  pay,"  which 
can  be  rendered  in  accordance  with  the 
Greek :  "  It  is  better  for  thee  not  to  pray  than 
to  pray  and  not  to  pay." 4 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Of  Intercession. 

In  the  third  place  stand  intercessions, 
which  we  are  wont  to  offer  up  for  others  also, 
while  we  are  filled  with  fervour  of  spirit, 
making  request  either  for  those  dear  to  us  or 


1  Ps.  cxv.  4  (cxvi.  14). 


3  Eccl. 


4  Ibid.  ver.  4. 


592 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


for  the  peace  of  the  whole  world,  and  to  use 
the  Apostle's  own  phrase,  we  pray  "for  all 
men,  for  kings  and  all  that  are  in  authority."  1 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Of  Thanksgiving. 

Then  in  the  fourth  place  there  stand  thanks- 
givings which  the  mind  in  ineffable  transports 
offers  up  to  God,  either  when  it  recalls  God's 
past  benefits  or  when  it  contemplates  His 
present  ones,  or  when  it  looks  forward  to  those 
great  ones  in  the  future  which  God  has  pre- 
pared for  them  that  love  Him.  And  with 
this  purpose  too  sometimes  we  are  wont  to 
pour  forth  richer  prayers,  while,  as  we  gaze 
with  pure  eyes  on  those  rewards  of  the  saints 
which  are  laid  up  in  store  hereafter,  our  spirit 
is  stimulated  to  offer  up  unspeakable  thanks 
to  God  with  boundless  joy. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Whether  these  four  kinds  of  prayers  are  necessary  for  everyone 
to  offer  all  at  once  or  separately  and  in  turns. 

And  of  these  four  kinds,  although  some- 
times occasions  arise  for  richer  and  fuller 
prayers  (for  from  the  class  of  supplications 
which  arises  from  sorrow  for  sin,  and  from  the 
kind  of  prayer  which  flows  from  confidence 
in  our  offerings  and  the  performance  of  our 
vows  in  accordance  with  a  pure  conscience, 
and  from  the  intercession  which  proceeds 
from  fervour  of  love,  and  from  the  thanks- 
giving which  is  born  of  the  consideration  of 
God's  blessings  and  His  greatness  and  good- 
ness, we  know  that  oftentimes  there  proceed 
most  fervent  and  ardent  prayers  so  that  it  is 
clear  that  all  these  kinds  of  prayer  of  which 
we  have  spoken  are  found  to  be  useful  and 
needful  for  all  men,  so  that  in  one  and  the 
same  man  his  changing  feelings  will  give 
utterance  to  pure  and  fervent  petitions  now 
of  supplications,  now  of  prayers,  now  of  inter- 
cessions) yet  the  first  seems  to  belong  more 
especially  to  beginners,  who  are  still  troubled 
by  the  stings  and  recollection  of  their  sins; 
the  second  to  those  who  have  already  attained 
some  loftiness  of  mind  in  their  spiritual 
progress  and  the  quest  of  virtue ;  the  third  to 
those  who  fulfil  the  completion  of  their  vows 
by  their  works,  and  are  so  stimulated  to  inter- 
cede for  others  also  through  the  consideration 
of  their  weakness,  and  the  earnestness  of 
their    love ;    the   fourth   to   those   who    have 


i  Tim.  ii,  1,2. 


already  torn  from  their  hearts  the  guilty  thorns 
of  conscience,  and  thus  being  now  free  from 
care  can  contemplate  with  a  pure  mind  the 
beneficence  of  God  and  His  compassions, 
which  He  has  either  granted  in  the  past,  or 
is  giving  in  the  present,  or  preparing  for  the 
future,  and  thus  are  borne  onward  with  fervent 
hearts  to  that  ardent  prayer  which  cannot  be 
embraced  or  expressed  by  the  mouth  of  men. 
Sometimes  however  the  mind  which  is  advan- 
cing to  that  perfect  state  of  purity  and  which 
is  already  beginning  to  be  established  in  it, 
will  take  in  all  these  at  one  and  the  same 
time,  and  like  some  incomprehensible  and 
all-devouring  flame,  dart  through  them  all 
and  offer  up  to  God  inexpressible  prayers  of 
the  purest  force,  which  the  Spirit  Itself,  in- 
tervening with  groanings  that  cannot  be 
uttered,  while  we  ourselves  understand  not, 
pours  forth  to  God,  grasping  at  that  hour  and 
ineffably  pouring  forth  in  its  supplications 
things  so  great  that  they  cannot  be  uttered 
with  the  mouth  nor  even  at  any  other  time  be 
recollected  by  the  mind.  And  thence  it  comes 
that  in  whatever  degree  any  one  stands,  he  is 
found  sometimes  to  offer  up  pure  and  devout 
prayers ;  as  even  in  that  first  and  lowly  station 
which  has  to  do  with  the  recollection  of  future 
judgment,  he  who  still  remains  under  the 
punishment  of  terror  and  the  fear  of  judgment 
is  so  smitten  with  sorrow  for  the  time  being 
that  he  is  filled  with  no  less  keenness  of  spirit 
from  the  richness  of  his  supplications  than 
he  who  through  the  purity  of  his  heart  gazes 
on  and  considers  the  blessings  of  God  and  is 
overcome  with  ineffable  joy  and  delight. 
For,  as  the  Lord  Himself  says,  he  begins  to 
love  the  more,  who  knows  that  he  has  been 
forgiven  the  more.2 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Of  the  kinds  of  prayer  to  which  we  ought  to  direct  ourselves. 

Yet  we  ought  by  advancing  in  life  andjat- 
taining  to  virtue  to  aim  rather  at  those  kinds 
of  prayer  which  are  poured  forth  either  from 
the  contemplation  of  the  good  things  to  come 
or  from  fervour  of  love,  or  which  at  least,  to 
speak  more  humbly  and  in  accordance  with 
the  measure  of  beginners,  arise  for  the  acquire- 
ment of  some  virtue  or  the  extinction  of  some 
fault.  For  otherwise  we  shall  not  possibly 
attain  to  those  sublimer  kinds  of  supplication 
of  which  we  spoke,  unless  our  mind  has  been 
little  by  little  and  by  degrees  raised  through 
the  regular  course  of  those  intercessions. 


2  Cf.  S.  Luke  vii.  47. 


THE    FIRST   CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    ISAAC. 


393 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

How  the  four  kinds  of  supplication  were  originated  by  the 
Lord. 

These  four  kinds  of  supplication  the  Lord 
Himself  by  His  own  example  vouchsafed  to 
originate  for  us,  so  that  in  this  too  He  might 
fulfil  that  which  was  said  of  Him:  "which 
Jesus  began  both  to  do  and  to  teach."  1  For 
He  made  use  of  the  class  of  supplication  when 
He  said:  "Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this 
cup  pass  from  me;  "  or  this  which  is  chanted 
in  His  Person  in  the  Psalm:  "My  God,  My 
God,  look  upon  Me,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken 
me,"  2  and  others  like  it.  It  is  prayer  where 
He  says:  "I  have  magnified  Thee  upon  the 
earth,  I  have  finished  the  work  which  Thou 
gavest  Me  to  do,"  and  this:  "And  for  their 
sakes  I  sanctify  Myself  that  they  also  may  be 
sanctified  in  the  truth. "  3  It  is  intercession  when 
He  says:  "Father,  those  whom  Thou  hast 
given  me,  I  will  that  they  also  may  be  with 
Me  that  they  may  see  My  glory  which  Thou 
hast  given  Me;  "  or  at  any  rate  when  He  says: 
■ '  Father,  forgive  them  for  they  know  not  what 
they  do."4  It  is  thanksgiving  when  He  says: 
"I  confess  to  Thee,  Father,  Lord  of  heaven 
and  earth,  that  Thou  hast  hid  these  things 
from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed 
them  unto  babes.  Even  so,  Father,  for  so  it 
seemed  good  in  Thy  sight:  "  or  at  least  when 
He  says:  "Father,  I  thank  Thee  that  Thou 
hast  heard  Me.  But  I  knew  that  Thou  hear- 
est  Me  always."  5  But  though  our  Lord  made 
a  distinction  between  these  four  kinds  of  pray- 
ers as  to  be  offered  separately  and  one  by  one 
according  to  the  scheme  which  we  know  of,  yet 
that  they  can  all  be  embraced  in  a  perfect 
prayer  at  one  and  the  same  time  He  showed 
by  His  own  example  in  that  prayer  which  at 
the  close  of  S.  John's  gospel  we  read  that 
He  offered  up  with  such  fulness.  From  the 
words  of  which  (as  it  is  too  long  to  repaat  it 
all)  the  careful  inquirer  can  discover  by  the 
order  of  the  passage  that  this  is  so.  And  the 
Apostle  also  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Philippians 
has  expressed  the  same  meaning,  by  putting 
these  four  kinds  of  prayers  in  a  slightly  differ- 
ent order,  and  has  shown  that  they  ought 
sometimes  to  be  offered  together  in  the  fervour 
of  a  single  prayer,  saying  as  follows:  "But  in 
everything  by  prayer  and  supplication  with 
thanksgiving  let  your  requests  be  made  known 
unto    God."6      And  by   this    he    wanted   us 


1  Acts  i.  i. 

2  S.  Matt.  xxvi.  39;  Ps.  xxi.  (xxii.)  2. 

3  S.  John  xvii.4,  19. 

4  lb.  24;  S.  Luke  xxiii.  34. 

6  S.  Matt.  xi.  25,  26;  S.  John  xi.  41,  42. 
c  Phil.  iv.  6. 


especially  to  understand  that  in  prayer  and 
supplication  thanksgiving  ought  to  be  mingled 
with  our  requests. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

Of  the  Lord's  Prayer. 

And  so  there  follows  after  these  different 
kinds  of  supplication  a  still  more  sublime 
and  exalted  condition  which  is  brought  about 
by  the  contemplation  of  God  alone  and  by 
fervent  love,  by  which  the  mind,  transporting 
and  flinging  itself  into  love  for  Him,  ad- 
dresses God  most  familiarly  as  its  own  Father 
with  a  piety  of  its  own.  And  that  we  ought 
earnestly  to  seek  after  this  condition  the 
formula  of  the  Lord's  prayer  teaches  us,  say- 
ing "Our  Father."  When  then  we  confess 
with  our  own  mouths  that  the  God  and  Lord 
of  the  universe  is  our  Father,  we  profess 
forthwith  that  we  have  been  called  from  our 
condition  as  slaves  to  the  adoption  of  sons, 
adding  next  "Which  art  in  heaven,"  that,  by 
shunning  with  the  utmost  horror  all  lingering 
in  this  present  life,  which  we  pass  upon  this 
earth  as  a  pilgrimage,  and  what  separates  us 
by  a  great  distance  from  our  Father,  we  may 
the  rather  hasten  with  all  eagerness  to  that 
country  where  we  confess  that  our  Father 
dwells,  and  may  not  allow  anything  of  this 
kind,  which  would  make  us  unworthy  of  this 
our  profession  and  the  dignity  of  an  adoption 
of  this  kind,  and  so  deprive  us  as  a  disgrace 
to  our  Father's  inheritance,  and  make  us  in- 
cur the  wrath  of  His  justice  and  severity. 
To  which  state  and  condition  of  sonship 
when  we  have  advanced,  we  shall  forthwith  be 
inflamed  with  the  piety  which  belongs  to  good 
sons,  so  that  we  shall  bend  all  our  energies 
to  the  advance  not  of  our  own  profit,  but  of 
our  Father's  glory,  saying  to  Him:  "Hallowed 
be  Thy  name,"  testifying  that  our  desire  and 
our  joy  is  His  glory,  becoming  imitators  of 
Him  who  said:  "He  who  speaketh  of  himself, 
seeketh  his  own  glory.  But  He  who  seeks 
the  glory,  of  Him  who  sent  Him,  the  same 
is  true  and  there  is  no  unrighteousness  in 
Him."7  Finally  the  chosen  vessel  being 
filled  with  this  feeling  wished  that  he  could 
be  anathema  from  Christ8  if  only  the  people 
belonging  to  Him  might  be  increased  and 
multiplied,  and  the  salvation  of  the  whole 
nation  of  Israel  accrue  to  the  glory  of  His 
Father;  for  with  all  assurance  could  he  wish 
to  die  for  Christ  as  he  knew  that  no  one 
perished  for  life.      And  again  he  says:   "We 


7  S.  John  vii.  18. 


8  Cf.  Rom.  ix.  3. 


394 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


rejoice  when  we  are  weak  but  ye  are  strong."  x 
And  what  wonder  if  the  chosen  vessel  wished 
to  be  anathema  from  Christ  for  the  sake  of 
Christ's  glory  and  the  conversion  of  His  own 
brethren  and  the  privilege  of  the  nation,  when 
the  prophet  Micah  wished  that  he  might  be  a 
liar  and  a  stranger  to  the  inspiration  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  if  only  the  people  of  the  Jews 
might  escape  those  plagues  and  the  going 
forth  into  captivity  which  he  had  announced 
in  his  prophecy,  saying :  "  Would  that  I  were 
not  a  man  that  hath  the  Spirit,  and  that  I 
rather  spoke  a  lie;  "  2 —  to  pass  over  that  wish 
of  the  Lawgiver,  who  did  not  refuse  to  die 
together  with  his  brethren  who  were  doomed 
to  death,  saying:  "  I  beseech  Thee,  O  Lord; 
this  people  hath  sinned  a  heinous  sin;  either 
forgive  them  this  trespass,  or  if  Thou  do  not, 
blot  me  out  of  Thy  book  which  Thou  hast 
written. "  3  But  where  it  is  said  "  Hallowed  be 
Thy  name,"  it  may  also  be  very  fairly  taken  in 
this  way :  "  The  hallowing  of  God  is  our  perfec- 
tion. "  And  so  when  we  say  to  Him  "  Hallowed 
be  Thy  name  "  we  say  in  other  words,  make 
us,  O  Father,  such  that  we  may  be  able  both  to 
understand  and  take  in  what  the  hallowing  of 
Thee  is,  or  at  any  rate  that  Thou  mayest  be 
seen  to  be  hallowed  in  our  spiritual  converse. 
And  this  is  effectually  fulfilled  in  our  case 
when  "  men  see  our  good  works,  and  glorify  our 
Father  which  is  in  heaven."4 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

Of  the  clause  "  Thy  kingdom  come." 

The  second  petition  of  the  pure  heart 
desires  that  the  kingdom  of  its  Father  may 
come  at  once  ;  viz.,  either  that  whereby  Christ 
reigns  day  by  day  in  the  saints  (which  comes 
to  pass  when  the  devil's  rule  is  cast  out  of 
our  hearts  by  the  destruction  of  foul  sins,  and 
God  begins  to  hold  sway  over  us  by  the  sweet 
odour  of  virtues,  and,  fornication  being  over- 
come, charity  reigns  in  our  hearts  together 
with  tranquillity,  when  rage  is  conquered; 
and  humility,  when  pride  is  trampled  under 
foot)  or  else  that  which  is  promised  in  due 
time  to  all  who  are  perfect,  and  to  all  the 
sons  of  God,  when  it  will  be  said  to  them 
by  Christ:  "Come  ye  blessed  of  My  Father, 
inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from 
the  foundation  of  the  world ;  "  5  (as  the  heart) 
with  fixed  and  steadfast  gaze,  so  to  speak, 
yearns  and  longs  for  it  and  says  to  Him  "Thy 


kingdom  come."  For  it  knows  by  the  witness 
of  its  own  conscience  that  when  He  shall 
appear,  it  will  presently  share  His  lot.  For 
no  guilty  person  would  dare  either  to  say  or 
to  wish  for  this,  for  no  one  would  want  to 
face  the  tribunal  of  the  Judge,  who  knew  that 
at  His  coming  he  would  forthwith  receive  not 
the  prize  or  reward  of  his  merits  but  only 
punishment. 

CHAPTER    XX. 

Of  the  clause  "  Thy  will  be  done." 

The  third  petition  is  that  of  sons:  "Thy 
will  be  done. as  in  heaven  so  on  earth."  There 
can  now  be  no  grander  prayer  than  to  wish 
that  earthly  things  may  be  made  equal  with 
things  heavenly:  for  what  else  is  it  to  say 
"Thy  will  be  done  as  in  heaven  so  on  earth," 
than  to  ask  that  men  may  be  like  angels  and 
that  as  God's  will  is  ever  fulfilled  by  them  in 
heaven,  so  also  all  those  who  are  on  earth 
may  do  not  their  own  but  His  will?  This 
too  no  one  could  say  from  the  heart  but  only 
one  who  believed  that  God  disposes  for  our 
good  all  things  which  are  seen,  whether  fortu- 
nate or  unfortunate,  and  that  He  is  more  care- 
ful and  provident  for  our  good  and  salvation 
than  we  ourselves  are  for  ourselves.  Or  at 
any  rate  it  may  be  taken  in  this  way :  The  will 
of  God  is  the  salvation  of  all  men,  according 
to  these  words  of  the  blessed  Paul :  "  Who 
willeth  all  men  to  be  saved  and  to  come  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  truth."  6  Of  which  will 
also  the  prophet  Isaiah  savs  in  the  Person  of 
God  the  Father:  "And  all  Thy  will  shall  be 
done. "  7  When  we  say  then  "  Thy  will  be  done 
as  in  heaven  so  on  earth,"  we  pray  in  other 
words  for  this;  viz.,  that  as  those  who  are  in 
heaven,  so  also  may  all  those  who  dwell  on 
earth  be  saved,  O  Father,  by  the  knowledge 
of  Thee. 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

Of  our  supersubstantial  or  daily  bread. 

Next:  "Give  us  this  day  our  bread  which 
is  tmovoiov ^  i.e.,  "supersubstantial,"  Avhich 
another  Evangelist  calls' "  daily. "  s  The  former 
indicates  the  quality  of  its  nobility  and  sub- 
stance,   in   virtue    of    which   it    is   above    all 


1  2  Cor.  xiii.  g. 

2  Micah  ii.  n. 

3  Exod.  xxxii.  31.  32. 


4  S.  Matt.  v.  16. 
B  S.  Matt.  xxv.  34. 


6  Tim,  ii.  4.  7  Is.  xlvi.  10. 

8  Here  Cassian  is  relying  entirely  on  Jerome's  revised  text  of 
the  Latin,  which  has  supersubstantial  is  in  S.  Matt.  vi.  11,  as  the 
rendering  of  <f7n.0ucn.0s  but  translates  the  same  word  by  quotidianum 
in  the  parallel  passage  in  S.  Luke  xi.  3.  It  is  curious  that  Cassian 
should  have  been  thus  misled,  with  his  knowledge  of  Greek,  as  well 
as  his  acquaintance  with  the  old  Latin  version  which  has  quotidia- 
num in  both  gospels.  Cf  Bishop  Lightfoot  "  On  a  Fresh  Revision  of 
the  New  Testament,"  p.  219. 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    ISAAC. 


195 


substances  and  the  loftiness  of  its  grandeur 
and  holiness  exceeds  all  creatures,  while  the 
latter  intimates  the  purpose  of  its  use  and 
value.  For  where  it  says  "daily''  it  shows 
that  without.it  we  cannot  live  a  spiritual  life 
for  a  single  day.  Where  it  says  "today"  it 
shows  that  it  must  be  received  daily  and  that 
yesterday's  supply  of  it  is  not  enough,  but 
that  it  must  be  given  to1  us  today  also  in  like 
manner.  And  our  daily  need  of  it  suggests 
to  us  that  we  ought  at  all  times  to  offer  up  this 
prayer,  because  there  is  no  day  on  which  we 
have  no  need  to  strengthen  the  heart  of  our 
inner  man,  by  eating  and  receiving  it,  although 
the  expression  used,  "today"  maybe  taken  to 
apply  to  his  present  life,  i.e.,  while  we  are 
living  in  this  world  supply  us  with  this  bread. 
For  we  know  that  it  will  be  given  to  those 
who  deserve  it  by  Thee  hereafter,  but  we  ask 
that  Thou  wouldest  grant  it  to  us  today, 
because  unless  it  has  been  vouchsafed  to  a 
man  to  receive  it  in  this  life  he  will  never  be 
partaker  of  it  in  that. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

Of  the  clause  :  "  Forgive  us  our  debts,  etc." 

"And  forgive  us  our  debts  as  we  also  for- 
give our  debtors."  O  unspeakable  mercy  of 
God,  which  has  not  only  given  us  a  form  of 
prayer  and  taught  us  a  system  of  life  accept- 
able to  Him,  and  by  the  requirements  of  the 
form  given,  in  which  He  charged  us  always 
to  pray,  has  torn  up  the  roots  of  both  anger 
and  sorrow,  but  also  gives  to  those  who  pray 
an  opportunity  and  reveals  to  them  a  way  by 
which  they  may  move  a  merciful  and  kindly 
judgment  of  God  to  be  pronounced  over  them 
and  which  somehow  gives  us  a  power  by  which 
we  can  moderate  the  sentence  of  our  ludge, 
drawing  Him  to  forgive  our  offences  by  the 
example  of  our  forgiveness :  when  we  say  to 
Him:  "Forgive  us  as  we  also  forgive."  And 
so  without  anxiety  and  in  confidence  from 
this  prayer  a  man  may  ask  for  pardon  of  his 
own  offences,  if  he  has  been  forgiving  towards 
his  own  debtors,  and  not  towards  those  of  his 
Lord.  For  some  of  us,  which  is  very  bad, 
are  inclined  to  show  ourselves  calm  and  most 
merciful  in  regard  to  those  things  which  are 
done  to  God's  detriment,  however  great  the 
crimes  may  be,  but  to  be  found  most  hard  and 
inexorable  exactors  of  debts  to  ourselves  even 
in  the  case  of  the  most  trifling  wrongs.  Who- 
ever then  does  not  from  his  heart  forgive  his 
brother  who  has  offended  him,  by  this  prayer 
calls  down  upon  himself  not  forgiveness  but 


condemnation,  and  by  his  own  profession  asks 
that  he  himself  may  be  judged  more  severely, 
saying :  Forgive  me  as  I  also  have  forgiven. 
And  if  he  is  repaid  according  to  his  own  re- 
quest, what  else  will  follow  but  that  he  will 
be  punished  after  his  own  example  with  im- 
placable wrath  and  a  sentence  that  cannot  be 
remitted?  And  so  if  we  want  to  be  judged 
mercifully,  we  ought  also  to  be  merciful 
towards  those  who  have  sinned  against  us. 
For  only  so  much  will  be  remitted  to  us,  as 
we  have  remitted  to  those  who  have  injured 
us  however  spitefully.  And  some  dreading 
this,  when  this  prayer  is  chanted  by  all  the 
people  in  church,  silently  omit  this  clause, 
for  fear  lest  they  may  seem  by  their  own  utter- 
ance to  bind  themselves  rather  than  to  ex- 
cuse themselves,  as  they  do  not  understand 
that  it  is  in  vain  that  they  try  to  offer  these 
quibbles  to  the  ludge  of  all  men,  who  has 
willed  to  show  us  beforehand  how  He  will 
judge  His  suppliants.  For  as  He  does  not 
wish  to  be  found  harsh  and  inexorable  towards 
them,  He  has  marked  out  the  manner  of  His 
judgment,  that  just  as  we  desire  to  be  judged 
by  Him,  so  we  should  also  judge  our  brethren, 
if  they  have  wronged  us  in  anything,  for  "he 
shall  have  judgment  without  mercy  who  hath 
shown  no  mercy."  1 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Of  the  clause  :  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation." 

Next  there  follows:  "And  lead  us  not  into 
temptation,"  on  which  there  arises  no  unim- 
portant question,  for  if  we  pray  that  we  may  not 
be  suffered  to  be  tempted,  how  then  will  our 
power  of  endurance  be  proved,  according  to 
this  text:    "Every  one  who  is  not  tempted  is 
not  proved  ;  "  2  and  again :  "  Blessed  is  the  man 
that  endureth  temptation  ?  "  3    The  clause  then, 
I  "Lead   us   not    into    temptation,"    does    not 
!  mean  this;  viz.,  do   not  permit  us  ever  to  be 
;  tempted,  but  do  not  permit  us  when  we  fall 
into    temptation    to   be    overcome.      For   Job 
j  was  tempted,  but  was  not  led  into  temptation. 
i  For  he  did  not  ascribe  folly  to  God  nor  blas- 
phemy, nor  with  impious  mouth  did  he  yield 
'•  to  that  wish  of  the  tempter  toward  which  he 
!  was  drawn.      Abraham  was    tempted,   Joseph 
I  was  tempted,  but  neither  of  them  was  led  into 
;  temptation  for  neither  of    them    yielded    his 
!  consent  to  the  tempter.      Next  there  follows  : 
"But  deliver  us  from  evil,"  i.e.,  do  not  suffer 
;  us  to  be  tempted  by  the  devil  above   that  we 


1  S.  James  ii.  13.         2  Ecclus.  xxxiv.  11. 


S.  James  i.  12. 


396 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


are  able,  but  "make  with  the  temptation  a  way 
also  of  escape  that  we  may  be  able  to  bear 
it."1 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

How  we  ought  not  to  ask  for  other  things,  except  only  those 
which  are  contained  in  the  limits  of  the  Lord's  Prayer. 

You  see  then  what  is  the  method  and  form 
of  prayer  proposed  to  us  by  the  Judge  Him- 
self, who  is  to  be  prayed  to  by  it,  a  form  in 
which  there  is  contained  no  petition  for  riches, 
no  thought  of  honours,  no  request  for  power 
and  might,  no  mention  of  bodily  health  and 
of  temporal  life.  For  He  who  is  the  Author 
of  Eternity  would  have  men  ask  of  Him  no- 
thing uncertain,  nothing  paltry,  and  nothing 
temporal.  And  so  a  man  will  offer  the  great- 1 
est  insult  to  His  Majesty  and  Bounty,  if  he 
leaves  on  one  side  these  eternal  petitions  and 
chooses  rather  to  ask  of  Him  something  tran- 
sitory and  uncertain;  and  will  also  incur  the 
indignation  rather  than  the  propitiation  of  the 
Judge  by  the  pettiness  of  his  prayer. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

Of  the  character  of  the  sublimer  prayer. 

This  prayer  then  though  it  seems  to  con- 
tain all  the  fulness  of  perfection,  as  being 
what  was  originated  and  appointed  by  the 
Lord's  own  authority,  yet  lifts  those  to  whom 
it  belongs  to  that  still  higher  condition  of 
which  we  spoke  above,  and  carries  them  on  by 
a  loftier  stage  to  that  ardent  prayer  which  is 
known  and  tried  by  but  very  few,  and  which 
to  speak  more  truly  is  ineffable;  which  tran- 
scends all  human  thoughts,  and  is  distin- 
guished, I  will  not  say  by  any  sound  of  the 
voice,  but  by  no  movement  of  the  tongue,  or 
utterance  of  words,  but  which  the  mind  en- 
lightened by  the  infusion  of  that  heavenly 
light  describes  in  no  human  and  confined 
language,  but  pours  forth  richly  as  from  a 
copious  fountain  in  an  accumulation  of 
thoughts,  and  ineffably  utters  to  God,  express- 
ing in  the  shortest  possible  space  of  time  such 
great  things  that  the  mind  when  it  returns  to 
its  usual  condition  cannot  easily  utter  or 
relate.  And  this  condition  our  Lord  also 
similarly  prefigured  by  the  form  of  those  sup- 
plications which,  when  he  retired  alone  in 
the  mountain  He  is  said  to  have  poured  forth 
in  silence,   and  when  being  in  an    agony  of 


1  i  Cor.  x.  13. 


prayer  He  shed  forth  even  drops  of  blood, 
as  an  example  of  a  purpose  which  it  is  hard 
to  imitate. 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 

Of  the  different  causes  of  conviction. 

But  who  is  able,  with  whatever  experience 
he  may  be  endowed,  to  give  a  sufficient  ac- 
count of  the  varieties  and  reasons  and  grounds 
of  conviction,  by  which  the  mind  is  inflamed 
and  set  on  fire  and  incited  to  pure  and  most 
fervent  prayers?  And  of  these  we  will  now 
by  way  of  specimen  set  forth  a  few,  as  far  as 
we  can  by  God's  enlightenment  recollect  them. 
For  sometimes  a  verse  of  any  one  of  the 
Psalms  gives  us  an  occasion  of  ardent  prayer 
while  Ave  are  singing.  Sometimes  the  har- 
monious modulation  of  a  brother's  voice  stirs 
up  the  minds  of  dullards  to  intense  supplica- 
tion. We  know  also  that  the  enunciation  and 
the  reverence  of  the  chanter  adds  greatly  to 
the  fervour  of  those  who  stand  by.  Moreover 
the  exhortation  of  a  perfect  man,  and  a  spir- 
itual conference  has  often  raised  the  affections 
of  those  present  to  ,the  richest  prayer.  We 
know  too  that  by  the  death  of  a  brother  or 
some  one  dear  to  us,  we  are  no  less  carried 
away  to  full  conviction.  The  recollection  also 
of  our  coldness  and  carelessness  has  some- 
times aroused  in  us  a  healthful  fervour  of 
spirit.  And  in  this  way  no  one  can  doubt 
that  numberless  opportunities  are  not  want- 
ing, by  which  through  God's  grace  the  cold- 
ness and  sleepiness  of  our  minds  can  be 
shaken  off. 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 

Of  the  different  sorts  of  conviction. 

But  how  and  in  what  way  those  very  convic- 
tions are  produced  from  the  inmost  recesses 
of  the  soul  it  is  no  less  difficult  to  trace  out. 
For  often  through  some  inexpressible  delight 
and  keenness  of  spirit  the  fruit  of  a  most  salu- 
tary conviction  arises  so  that  it  actually  breaks 
forth  into  shouts  owing  to  the  greatness  of 
its  incontrollable  joy;  and  the  delight  of  the 
heart  and  greatness  of  exultation  makes  itself 
heard  even  in  the  cell  of  a  neighbour.  But 
sometimes  the  mind  hides  itself  in  complete 
silence  within  the  secrets  of  a  profound  quiet, 
so  that  the  amazement  of  a  sudden  illumina- 
tion chokes  all  sounds  of  words  and  the  over- 
awed spirit  either  keeps  all  its  feelings  to  it- 
self or  loses 2  them  and  pours  forth  its  desires 


2  Petschenig's  text  reads  "amittat. 


1.  emittat. 


THE  FIRST  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOTT  ISAAC. 


197 


to  God  with  groanings  that  cannot  be  uttered. 
But  sometimes  it  is  filled  with  such  over- 
whelming conviction  and  grief  that  it  cannot 
express  it  except  by  floods  of  tears. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  question  about  the  fact  that  a  plentiful  supply  of  tears  is 
not  in  our  own  power. 

Germanus  :  My  own  poor  self  indeed  is 
not  altogether  ignorant  of  this  feeling  of  con- 
viction. For  often  when  tears  arise  at  the 
recollection  of  my  faults,  I  have  been  by  the 
Lord's  visitation  so  refreshed  by  this  ineffable 
joy  which  you  describe  that  the  greatness  of 
the  joy  has  assured  me  that  I  ought  not  to 
despair  of  their  forgiveness.  Than  which  state 
of  mind  I  think  there  is  nothing  more  sub- 
lime if  only  it  could  be  recalled  at  our  own 
will.  For  sometimes  when  I  am  desirous  to 
stir  myself  up  with  all  my  power  to  the  same 
conviction  and  tears,  and  place  before  my  eyes 
all  my  faults  and  sins,  I  am  unable  to  bring 
back  that  copiousness  of  tears,  and  so  my  eyes 
are  dry  and  hard  like  some  hardest  flint,  so 
that  not  a  single  tear  trickles  from  them.  And 
so  in  proportion  as  I  congratulate  myself  on 
that  copiousness  of  tears,  just  so  do  I  mourn 
that  I  cannot  bring  it  back  again  whenever  I 
wish. 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 

The  answer  on  the  varieties  of  conviction  which  spring  from 
tears. 

Isaac  :  Not  every  kind  of  shedding  of  tears 
is  produced  by  one  feeling  or  one  virtue.  For 
in  one  way  does  that  weeping  originate  which 
is  caused  by  the  pricks  of  our  sins  smiting  our 
heart,  of  which  we  read:  "I  have  laboured 
in  my  groanings,  every  night  I  will  wash  my 
bed  ;  I  will  water  my  couch  with  my  tears."  a 
And  again  :  "  Let  tears  run  down  like  a  torrent 
day  and  night :  give  thyself  no  rest,  and  let 
not  the  apple  of  thine  eye  cease."  2  In  another, 
that  which  arises  from  the  contemplation  of 
eternal  good  things  and  the  desire  of  that 
future  glory,  owing  to  which  even  richer  well- 
springs  of  tears  burst  forth  from  uncontrollable 
delights  and  boundless  exultation,  while  our 
soul  is  athirst  for  the  mighty  Living  God,  say- 
ing, "When  shall  I  come  and  appear  before  the 
presence  of  God?  My  tears  have  been  my 
meat  day  and  night,"8  declaring  with  daily 
crying  and  lamentation:  "Woe  is  me  that 
my  sojourning  is  prolonged ;  "  and  :  "  Too  long 


1  Ps.  vi.  7. 


Lam.  ii.  iS".  3  Ps.  xii.  (xliii.)  3,  4. 


hath  my  soul  been  a  sojourner."  4  In  another 
way  do  the  tears  flow  forth,  which  without  any 
conscience  of  deadly  sin,  yet  still  proceed 
from  the  fear  of  hell  and  the  recollection  of 
that  terrible  judgment,  with  the  terror  of 
which  the  prophet  was  smitten  and  prayed  to 
God,  saying  :  "  Enter  not  into  judgment  with 
Thy  servant,  for  in  Thy  sight  shall  no  man 
living  be  justified." 5  There  is  too  another 
kind  of  tears,  which  are  caused  not  by  know- 
ledge of  one's  self  but  by  the  hardness  and 
sins  of  others  ;  whereby  Samuel  is  described 
as  having  wept  for  Saul,  and  both  the  Lord  in 
the  gospel  and  Jeremiah  in  former  days  for 
the  city  of  Jerusalem,  the  latter  thus  saying  : 
"  Oh,  that  my  head  were  water  and  mine  eyes  a 
fountain  of  tears  !  And  I  will  weep  day  and 
night  for  the  slain  of  the  daughter  of  my  peo- 
ple." 6  Or  also  such  as  were  those  tears  of 
which  we  hear  in  the  hundred  and  first  Psalm  : 
"  For  I  have  eaten  ashes  for  my  bread,  and 
mingled  my  cup  with  weeping."  7  And  these 
were  certainly  not  caused  by  the  same  feel- 
ing as  those  which  arise  in  the  sixth  Psalm 
from  the  person  of  the  penitent,  but  were  due 
to  the  anxieties  of  this  life  and  its  distresses 
and  losses,  by  which  the  righteous  who  are 
living  in  this  world  are  oppressed.  And  this 
is  clearly  shown  not  only  by  the  words  of  the 
Psalm  itself,  but  also  by  its  title,  which  runs 
as  follows  in  the  character  of  that  poor  person 
of  whom  it  is  said  in  the  gospel  that  "blessed 
are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  :  "  s  "A  prayer  of  the  poor  when  he 
was  in  distress  and  poured  forth  his  prayer  to 
God."  9 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

How  tears  ought  not  to  be  squeezed  out,  when  they  do  not 
flow  spontaneously. 

From  these  tears  those  are  vastly  different 
which  are  squeezed  out  from  dry  eyes  while 
the  heart  is  hard  :  and  although  we  cannot  be- 
lieve that  these  are  altogether  fruitless  (for  the 
attempt  to  shed  them  is  made  with  a  good  in- 
tention, especially  by  those  who  have  not  yet 
been  able  to  attain  to  perfect  knowledge  or  to 
be  thoroughly  cleansed  from  the  stains  of  past 
or  present  sins),  yet  certainly  the  flow  of  tears 
ought  not  to  be  thus  forced  out  by  those  who 
have  already  advanced  to  the  love  of  virtue, 
nor  should  the  weeping  of  the  outward  man  be 
with  great  labour  attempted,  as  even  if  it  is 
produced  it  will  never  attain  the  rich  copious- 
ness of    spontaneous  tears.     For  it  will  rather 


4  Ps.  cix.  (cxix.)  5,  6.      0  Jer.  ix.  1.  8  S.  Matt.  v.  3. 

6  Ps.  cxlii.  (cxliii.)  2.      7  Ps.  ci.  (cii.)  10.        9  Ps.  ci.  (cii.)  1. 


393 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


cast  down  the  soul  of  the  suppliant  by  his  en- 
deavours, and  humiliate  him,  and  plunge  him 
in  human  affairs  and  draw  him  away  from  the 
celestial  heights,  wherein  the  awed  mind  of 
one  who  prays  should  be  steadfastly  fixed,  and 
will  force  it  to  relax  its  hold  on  its  prayers  and 
grow  sick  from  barren  and  forced  tears. 

CHAPTER   XXXI. 

The  opinion  of  Abbot  Antony  on  the  condition  of  prayer. 

And  that  you  may  see  the  character  of  true 
prayer  I  will  give  you  not  my  own  opinion  but 
that  of  the  blessed  Antony  :  whom  we  have 
known  sometimes  to  have  been  so  persistent 
in  prayer  that  often  as  he  was  praying  in  a 
transport  of  mind,  when  the  sunrise  began  to 
appear,  we  have  heard  him  in  the  fervour  of 
his  spirit  declaiming :  Why  do  you  hinder 
me,  O  sun,  who  art  arising  for  this  very  pur- 
pose; viz.,  to  withdraw  me  from  the  bright- 
ness of  this  true  light  ?  And  his  also  is  this 
heavenly  and  more  than  human  utterance  on 
the  end  of  prayer  :  That  is  not.  said  he,  a 
perfect  prayer,  wherein  a  monk  understands 
himself  and  the  words  which  he  prays.  And 
if  we  too,  as  far  as  our  slender  ability  allows, 
may  venture  to  add  anything  to  this  splendid 
utterance,  we  will  bring  forward  the  marks  of 
prayer  which  are  heard  from  the  Lord,  as  far 
as  we  have  tried  them. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

Of  the  proof  of  prayer  being  heard. 

Whex,  while  we  are  praying,  no  hesitation 
intervenes  and  breaks  down  the  confidence  of 
our  petition  by  a  sort  of  despair,  but  we  feel  that 
by  pouring  forth  our  prayer  we  have  obtained 
what  we  are  asking  for,  we  have  no  doubt  that 
our  prayers  have  effectually  reached  God.  For 
so  far  will  one  be  heard  and  obtain  an  answer, 
as  he  believes  that  he  is  regarded  by  God,  and 
that  God  can  grant  it.  For  this  saying  of  our 
Lord  cannot  be  retracted  :  "  Whatsoever  ye  ask 
when  ye  pray,  believe  that  you  shall  receive,  and 
they  shall  come  to  you."  x 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

An  objection  that  the  confidence  of  being  thus  heard  as 
described  belongs  only  to  saints. 

Germanus  :  We   certainly  believe  that  this 
confidence  of  being  heard  flows  from  purity  of 


1  S.  Mark  xi.  24. 


conscience,  but  for  us,  whose  heart  is  still  smit- 
ten by  the  pricks  of  sins,  how  can  we  have  it, 
as  we  have  no  merits  to  plead  for  us,  whereby 
we  might  confidently  presume  that  our  prayers 
would  be  heard  ? 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

Answer  on  the  different  reasons  for  prayer  being  heard. 

Isaac  :  That  there  are  different  reasons  for 
prayer  being  heard  in  accordance  with  the  varied 
and  changing  condition  of  souls  the  words  of 
the  gospels  and  of  the  prophets  teach  us.  For 
you  have  the  fruits  of  an  answer  pointed  out 
by  our  Lord's  words  in  the  case  of  the  agree- 
ment of  two  persons  ;  as  it  is  said  :  "  If  two  of 
you  shall  agree  upon  earth  touching  anything 
for  which  they  shall  ask,  it  shall  be  done  for 
them  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 2  You 
have  another  in  the  fulness  of  faith,  which  is 
compared  to  a  grain  of  mustard-seed.  "For," 
He  says,  "  if  you  have  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard 
seed,  ye  shall  say  unto  this  mountain  :  Be  thou 
removed,  and  it  shall  be  removed  ;  and  nothing 
shall  be  impossible  to  you."  3  You  have  it  in 
continuance  in  prayer,  which  the  Lord's  words 
call,  by  reason  of  unwearied  perseverance  in 
petitioning,  importunity:  "For,  verily,  I  say 
unto  you  that  if  not  because  of  his  friendship, 
yet  because  of  his  importunity  he  will  rise  and 
give  him  as  much  as  he  needs."  4  You  have 
it  in  the  fruits  of  almsgiving :  "  Shut  up  alms 
in  the  heart  of  the  poor  and  it  shall  pray  for 
thee  in  the  time  of  tribulation."  6  You  have  it 
in  the  purifying  of  life  and  in  works  of  mercy, 
as  it  is  said  :  "  Loose  the  bands  of  wickedness, 
undo  the  bundles  that  oppress  ;  "  and  after  a 
few  words  in  which  the  barrenness  of  an  un- 
fruitful fast  is  rebuked,  "  then,"  he  says,  "  thou 
shalt  call  and  the  Lord  shall  hear  thee ;  thou 
shalt  cry,  and  He  shall  say,  Here  am  I." 6 
Sometimes  also  excess  of  trouble  causes  it  to 
be  heard,  as  it  is  said :  "  When  I  was  in  trou- 
ble I  called  unto  the  Lord,  and  He  heard  me ; " 7 
and  again  :  "  Afflict  not  the  stranger  for  if  he 
crieth  unto  Me,  I  will  hear  him,  for  I  am  mer- 
ciful." 8  You  see  then  in  how  many  ways  the 
gift  of  an  answer  may  be  obtained,  so  that  no 
one  need  be  crushed  by  the  despair  of  his  con- 
science for  securing  those  things  which  are  salu- 
tary and  eternal.  For  if  in  contemplating  our 
wretchedness  I  admit  that  we  are  utterly  desti- 
tute of  all  those  virtues  which  we  mentioned 
above,  and  that  we  have  neither  that  laudable 
agreement  of  two  persons,  nor  that  faith  which 


2  S.  Matt,  xviii.  19. 

3  S.  Matt.  xvii.  19. 
*  S.  Luke  xi.  S. 


5  Ecclus.  xxix. 
0  Is.  lviii.  6,  9. 


7  Ps.  cxix.  (cxx.)  1. 

8  Exod.  xxii.  2i,  27. 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    ISAAC. 


399 


is  compared  to  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  nor 
those  works  of  piety  which  the  prophet  de- 
scribes, surely  we  cannot  be  without  that  im- 
portunity which  He  supplies  to  all  who  desire 
it,  owing  to  which  alone  the  Lord  promises 
that  He  will  give  whatever  He  has  been  prayed 
to  give.  And  therefore  we  ought  without  un- 
believing hesitation  to  persevere,  and  not  to 
have  the  least  doubt  that  by  continuing  in 
them  we  shall  obtain  ail  those  things  which 
we  have  asked  according  to  the  mind  of  God. 
For  the  Lord,  in  His  desire  to  grant  what  is 
heavenly  and  eternal,  urges  us  to  constrain 
Him  as  it  were  by  our  importunity,  as  He  not 
only  does  not  despise  or  reject  the  importunate, 
but  actually  welcomes  and  praises  them,  and 
most  graciously  promises  to  grant  whatever 
they  have  perseveringly  hoped  for ;  saying, 
"  Ask  and  ye  shall  receive  :  seek  and  ye  shall 
find :  knock  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto  you. 
For  every  one  that  asketh  receiveth,  and  he 
that  seeketh  findeth,  and  to  him  that  knocketh 
it  shall  be  opened  ;  "  *  and  again  :  "  All  things 
whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  prayer  believing  ye 
shall  receive,  and  nothing  shall  be  impossible 
to  you."  '2  And  therefore  even  if  all  the  grounds 
for  being  heard  which  we  have  mentioned  are 
altogether  wanting,  at  any  rate  the  earnestness 
of  importunity  may  animate  us,  as  this  is 
placed  in  the  power  of  any  one  who  wills 
without  the  difficulties  of  any  merits  or  labours. 
But  let  not  any  suppliant  doubt  that  he  cer- 
tainly will  not  be  heard,  so  long  as  he  doubts 
whether  he  is  heard.  But  that  this  also  shall 
be  sought  from  the  Lord  unweariedly,  we  are 
taught  by  the  example  of  the  blessed  Daniel, 
as,  though  he  was  heard  from  the  first  day 
on  which  he  began  to  pray,  he  only  obtained 
the  result  of  his  petition  after  one  and  twenty 
days.3  Wherefore  we  also  ought  not  to  grow 
slack  in  the  earnestness  of  the  prayers  we  have 
begun,  if  we  fancy  that  the  answer  comes  but 
slowly,  for  fear  lest  perhaps  the  gift  of  the 
answer  be  in  God's  providence  delayed,  or 
the  angel,  who  was  to  bring  the  Divine  bless- 
ing to  us,  may  when  he  comes  forth  from  the 
Presence  of  the  Almighty  be  hindered  by  the 
resistance  of  the  devil,  as  it  is  certain  that  he 
cannot  transmit  and  bring  to  us  the  desired 
boon,  if  he  finds  that  we  slack  off  from  the 
earnestness  of  the  petition  made.  And  this 
would  certainly  have  happened  to  the  above 
mentioned  prophet  unless  he  had  with  incom- 
parable steadfastness  prolonged  and  persevered 
in  his  prayers  until  the  twenty-first  day.  Let 
us  then  not  be  at  all  cast  down  by  despair 
from  the  confidence  of  this  faith  of  ours,  even 
when  we  fancy  that  we  are  far  from  having  ob- 


1  S.  Luke  xi.  9,  10.  •  S.  Matt.  xxi.  22  ;  xvii.  20.  3  Cf.  Dan.  x.  2  sq. 


tained  what  we  prayed  for,  and  let  us  not  have 
any  doubts  about  the  Lord's  promise  where 
He  says :  "  All  things,  whatsoever  ye  shall  ask 
in  prayer  believing,  ye  shall  receive."  4  For  it 
is  well  for  us  to  consider  this  saying  of  the 
blessed  Evangelist  John,  by  which  the  ambiguity 
of  this  question  is  clearly  solved  :  "  This  is,"  he 
says,  "  the  confidence  which  we  have  in  Him, 
that  whatsoever  we  ask  according  to  His  will, 
He  heareth  us."  5  He  bids  us  then  have  a  full 
and  undoubting  confidence  of  the  answer 
only  in  those  things  which  are  not  for  our 
own  advantage  or  for  temporal  comforts, 
but  are  in  conformity  to  the  Lord's  will. 
And  we  are  also  taught  to  put  this  into  our 
prayers  by  the  Lord's  Prayer,  where  we  say 
"  Thy  will  be  done,"  —  Thine  not  ours.  For  if 
we  also  remember  these  words  of  the  Apostle 
that  "  we  know  not  what  to  pray  for  as  we 
ought  "  6  we  shall  see  that  we  sometimes  ask 
for  things  opposed  to  our  salvation  and  that 
we  are  most  providentially  refused  our  requests 
by  Him  who  sees  what  is  good  for  us  with 
greater  right  and  truth  than  we  can.  And  it 
is  clear  that  this  also  happened  to  the  teacher 
of  the  Gentiles  when  he  prayed  that  the  mes- 
senger of  Satan  who  had  been  for  his  good 
allowed  by  the  Lord's  will  to  buffet  him,  might 
be  removed,  saying  :  "  For  which  I  besought 
the  Lord  thrice  that  he  might  depart  from  me. 
And  He  said  unto  me,  My  grace  is  sufficient 
for  thee,  for  strength  is  made  perfect  in  weak- 
ness." 7  And  this  feeling  even  our  Lord  ex- 
pressed when  He  prayed  in  the  character  8  of 
man  which  He  had  taken,  that  He  might  give 
us  a  form  of  prayer  as  other  things  also  by 
His  example  ;  saying  thus  :  "  Father,  if  it  be 
possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me  :  neverthe- 
less not  as  I  will  but  as  Thou  wilt,"  ■'  though 
certainly  His  will  was  not  discordant  with  His 
Father's  will,  "  For  He  had  come  to  save  what 
was  lost  and  to  give  His  life  a  ransom  for 
many ; " 10  as  He  Himself  says  :  "  No  man  taketh 
my  life  from  Me,  but  I  lay  it  down  of  Myself. 
I  have  power  to  lay  it  down  and  I  have  power 
to  take  it  again."  u  In  which  character  there  is 
in  the  thirty-ninth  Psalm  the  following  sung  by 
the  blessed  David,  of  the  Unity  of  will  which 
He  ever  maintained  with  the  Father  :  "  To  do 
Thy  will :  O  My  God,  I  am  willing."  12  For  even 
if  we  read  of  the  Father  :  "  For  God  so  loved 
the  world    that   He  gave    His  only  begotten 


4  S.  Matt.  xxi.  22.  c  Rom.  viii.  26. 

5  1  John  v.  16.  '  2  Cor.  xii.  S,  9. 

8  Ex  persona  hominis  assmnpti.  The  language  is  scarcely  accu- 
rate, but  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  Conferences  were  written 
before  the  rise  of  the  Nestorian  heresy  had  shown  the  need  of 
exactness  of  expression  on  the  subject  of  the  Incarnation.  Com- 
pare the  note  on  "Against  Nestorius,"  Book  III.  c.  iii. 

'■>    S.  Matt.  xxvi.  39.  n  S.  John  x.  iS. 

10  S.  Matt,  xviii.  11 ;  xx.  28.  12  Ps.  xxxix.  (xl.)  9. 


400 


CASSIAN'S   CONFERENCES. 


Son," 1  we  find  none  the  less  of  the  Son  : 
"  Who  gave  Himself  for  our  sins."  2  And  as  it 
is  said  of  the  One  :  "  Who  spared  not  His  own 
Son,  but  gave  Him  for  all  of  us,"  3  so  it  is  written 
of  the  other  :  "  He  was  offered  because  He 
Himself  willed  it."  4  And  it  is  shown  that 
the  will  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son  is  in 
all  things  one,  so  that  even  in  the  actual 
mystery  of  the  Lord's  resurrection  we  are 
taught  that  there  was  no  discord  of  operation. 
For  just  as  the  blessed  Apostle  declares  that 
the  Father  brought  about  the  resurrection  of 
His  body,  saying:  "  And  God  the  Father,  who 
raised  Him  from  the  dead,"  5  so  also  the  Son 
testifies  that  He  Himself  will  raise  again  the 
Temple  of  His  body,  saying  :  "  Destroy  this 
temple,  and  in  three  days  I  will  raise  it  up 
again."  6  And  therefore  we  being  instructed 
by  all  these  examples  of  our  Lord  which  have 
been  enumerated  ought  to  end  our  supplica- 
tions also  with  the  same  prayer,  and  always  to 
subjoin  this  clause  to  all  our  petitions  :  "  Never- 
theless not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt."  7  But 
it  is  clear  enough  that  one  who  does  not 8  pray 
with  attention  of  mind  cannot  observe  that 
threefold  reverence 9  which  is  usually  practised 
in  the  assemblies  of  the  brethren  at  the  close 
of  service. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

Of  prayer  to  be  offered  within  the  chamber  and  with  the  door 
shut. 

Before  all  things  however  we  ought  most 
carefully  to  observe  the  Evangelic  precept, 
which  tells  us  to  enter  into  our  chamber  and 
shut  the  door  and  pray  to  our  Father,  which 
may  be  fulfilled  by  us  as  follows  :  We  pray  with- 
in our  chamber,  when  removing  our  hearts 
inwardly  from  the  din  of  all  thoughts  and 
anxieties,  we  disclose  our  prayers  in  secret  and 
in  closest  intercourse  to  the  Lord.  We  pray 
with  closed  doors  when  with  closed  lips  and 
complete  silence  we  pray  to  the  searcher  not 
of  words  but  of  hearts.  We  pray  in  secret 
when  from  the  heart  and  fervent  mind  we 
disclose  our  petitions  to  God  alone,  so  that 
no  hostile  powers  are  even  able  to  discover 
the  character  of  our  petition.     Wherefore  we 

1  i  John  iii.  16.         •"  Rom.  viii.  32.  c  Gal.  i.  1. 

2  Gal.  i.  4.  *  Is.  liii.  7.  (Lat.)  c  S.  John  ii.  19. 

7  S.  Matt.  xxvi.  39. 

8  "  Non  "  though  wanting  inmost  MSS.  must  be  read  in  the 
text. 

0  Reading  "  curvationis  "  with  Petschenig :  the  text  of  Gazxus  has 
"  orationis." 


should  pray  in  complete  silence,  not  only  to 
avoid  distracting  the  brethren  standing  near 
by  our  whispers  or  louder  utterances,  and  dis- 
turbing the  thoughts  of  those  who  are  praying, 
but  also  that  the  purport  of  our  petition  may 
be  concealed  from  our  enemies  who  are  es- 
pecially on  the  watch  against  us  while  we  are 
praying.  For  so  we  shall  fulfil  this  injunc- 
tion :  "  Keep  the  doors  of  thy  mouth  from  her 
who  sleepeth  in  thy  bosom."  10 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

Of  the  value  of  short  and  silent  prayer. 

Wherefore  we  ought  to  pray  often  but 
briefly,  lest  if  we  are  long  about  it  our  crafty  foe 
may  succeed  in  implanting  something  in  our 
heart.  For  that  is  the  true  sacrifice,  as  "  the  sac- 
rifice of  God  is  a  broken  spirit."  This  is  the 
salutary  offering,  these  are  pure  drink  offerings, 
that  is  the  "  sacrifice  of  righteousness,"  the 
"  sacrifice  of  praise,"  these  are  true  and  fat 
victims,  "  holocausts  full  of  marrow,"  which  are 
offered  by  contrite  and  humble  hearts,  and 
which  those  who  practise  this  control  and 
fervour  of  spirit,  of  which  we  have  spoken, 
with  effectual  power  can  sing  :  "  Let  my  prayer 
be  set  forth  in  Thy  sight  as  the  incense :  let 
the  lifting  up  of  my  hands  be  an  evening  sac- 
rifice." n  But  the  approach  of  the  right  hour 
and  of  night  warns  us  that  we  ought  with  fit- 
ting devotion  to  do  this  very  thing,  of  which, 
as  our  slender  ability  allowed,  we  seem  to 
have  propounded  a  great  deal,  and  to  have 
prolonged  our  conference  considerably,  though 
we  believe  that  we  have  discoursed  very  little 
when  the  magnificence  and  difficulty  of  the 
subject  are  taken  into  account. 

With  these  words  of  the  holy  Isaac  we  were 
dazzled  rather  than  satisfied,  and  after  evening 
service  had  been  held,  rested  our  limbs  for  a 
short  time,  and  intending  at  the  first  dawn 
again  to  return  under  promise  of  a  fuller 
discussion  departed,  rejoicing  over  the  acqui- 
sition of  these  precepts  as  well  as  over  the 
assurance  of  his  promises.  Since  we  felt  that 
though  the  excellence  of  prayer  had  been 
shown  to  us,  still  we  had  not  yet  understood 
from  his  discourse  its  nature,  and  the  power 
by  which  continuance  in  it  might  be  gained 
and  kept. 


10  Micah  vii.  5. 

11  Ps.  1.  (Ii.)  19,  21 


xlix.  (1.)   23;  lxv.  (lxvi.)  15;  cxl.  (cxli.)  2. 


THE    SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    ISAAC. 


401 


X. 

THE   SECOND   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   ISAAC. 


ON  PRAYER. 


CHAPTER   I. 


Introduction. 


Among  the  sublime  customs  of  the  anchor- 
ites which  by  God's  help  have  been  set  forth 
although  in  plain  and  unadorned  style,  the 
course  of  our  narration  compels  us  to  insert 
and  find  a  place  for  something,  which  may  j 
seem  so  to  speak  to  cause  a  blemish  on  a  fair 
body :  although  I  have  no  doubt  that  by  it  no 
small  instruction  on  the  image  of,  Almighty 
God  of  which  we  read  in  Genesis  will  be  con- 
ferred on  some  of  the  simpler  sort,  especially 
when  the  grounds  are  considered  of  a  doctrine 
so  important  that  men  cannot  be  ignorant  of 
it  without  terrible  blasphemy  and  serious  harm 
to  the  Catholic  faith. 


CHAPTER   II. 

Of  the  custom  which  is  kept  up  in  the  Province  of  Egypt  for 
signifying  the  time  of  Easter. 

In  the  country  of  Egypt  this  custom  is  by 
ancient  tradition  observed  that  —  when  Epiph- 
any is  past,  which  the  priests  of  that  province 
regard  as  the  time,  both  of  our  Lord's  baptism 
and  also  of  His  birth  in  the  flesh,  and  so  cele- 
brate the  commemoration  of  either  mystery 
not  separately  as  in  the  Western  provinces  but 
on  the  single  festival  of  this  day,1  —  letters  are 

1  The  observance  of  Epiphany  can  be  traced  back  in  the  Chris- 
tian Church  to  the  second  century,  and,  as  Cassian  tells  us  here,  in 
the  East  (in  which  its  observance  apparently  originated)  it  was  in 
the  first  instance  a  double  festival,  commemorating  both  the  Nativity 
and  the  Baptism  of  our  Lord.  From  the  East  its  observance  passed 
over  to  the  West,  where  however  the  Nativity  was  already  observed 
as  a  separate  festival,  and  hence  the  special  reference  of  Epiphany 
was  somewhat  altered,  and  the  manifestation  to  the  Magi  was  coupled 
with  that  at  the  Baptism :  hence  the  plural  Eftiphaniorum  dies. 
Meanwhile,  as  the  West  adopted  the  observance  of  this  festival  from 
the  East,  so  the  East  followed  the  West  in  observing  a  separate  feast 
of  the  Nativity.  Cassian's  words  show  us  that  when  he  wrote  the 
two  festivals  were  both  observed  separately  in  the  West,  though 
apparently  not  yet  (to  the  best  of  his  belief)  in  the  East,  but  the 
language  of  a  homily  by  S.  Chrysostom  (Vol.  ii.  p.  354  Ed.  Mont- 
faucon)  delivered  in  a.d.  386  shows  that  the  separation  of  the  two 
festivals  had  already  begun  at  Antioch,  and  all  the  evidence  goes  to 
show  that  "the  Western  plan  was  being  gradually  adopted  in  the 
period  which  we  may  roughly  define  as  the  last  quarter  of  the  4th 
and  the  first  quarter  of  the  5th  century."  Dictionary  of  Christian 
Antiquities,  Vol.  i.  p.  361.  See  further  Origines  du  Culte  Chretien, 
par  L'Abbe  Duchesne,  p.  247  sq. 


sent  from  the  Bishop  of  Alexandria  through 
all  the  Churches  of  Egypt,  by  which  the  begin- 
ning of  Lent,  and  the  day  of  Easter  are  pointed 
out  not  only  in  all  the  cities  but  also  in  all  the 
monasteries.2  In  accordance  then  with  this 
custom,  a  very  few  days  after  the  previous 
conference  had  been  held  with  Abbot  Isaac, 
there  arrived  the  festal  letters  of  Theophilus  3 
the  Bishop  of  the  aforesaid  city,  in  which 
together  with  the  announcement  of  Easter 
he  considered  as  well  the  foolish  heresy  of. 
the  Anthropomorphites 4  at  great  length,  and 
abundantly  refuted  it.  And  this  was  received 
by  almost  all  the  body  of  monks  residing  in 
the  whole  province  of  Egypt  with  such  bitter- 
ness owing  to  their  simplicity  and  error,  that 
the  greater  part  of  the  Elders  decreed  that  on 
the  contrary  the  aforesaid  Bishop  ought  to  be 
abhorred  by  the  whole  body  of  the  brethren 
as  tainted  with  heresy  of  the  worst  kind, 
because  he  seemed  to  impugn  the  teaching  of 
holy  Scripture  by  the  denial  that  Almighty 
God  was  formed  in   the   fashion  of  a  human 


2  The  "  Festal  letters"  (eopTa<TTLKal  ciricrToAai,  Euseb.  VII.  xx., 
xxi.)  were  delivered  by  the  Bishop  of  Alexandria  as  Homilies,  and 
then  put  into  the  form  of  an  Epistle  and  sent  round  to  all  the  churches 
of  Egypt  ;  and,  according  to  some  late  writers,  to  the  Bishops  of  all 
the  principal  sees,  in  accordance  with  a  decision  of  the  Council  of 
Nicsea,  in  order  to  inform  them  of  the  right  day  on  which  Easter 
should  be  celebrated.  Cassian  here  speaks  of  them  as  sent  imme- 
diately after  Epiphany,  and  this  was  certainly  the  time  at  which  the 
announcement  of  the  date  of  Easter  was  made  in  the  West  shortly 
after  his  day  (so  the  Council  of  Orleans,  Canon  i.,  a.d.  541) ;  that  of 
Braga  a.d.  572,  Canon  ix.  ;  and  that  of  Auxerre  a.d.  572,  Canon  ii.), 
but  there  is  ample  evidence  in  the  Festal  letters  both  ot  S.  Athana- 
sius  and  of  S.  Cyril  that  at  Alexandria  the  homilies  were  preached 
on  the  previous  Easter,  and  it  is  difficult  to  resist  the  inference  that 
Cassian's  memory  is  here  at  fault  as  to  the  exact  time  at  which  the 
incident  related  really  occurred,  and  that  he  is  transferring  to  Egypt 
the  custom  with  which  he  was  familiar  in  the  West,  assigning 
to  the  festival  of  Epiphany  what  really  must  have  taken  place  at 
Easter. 

3  Theophilus  succeeded  Timothy  as  Bishop  of  Alexandria  in  the 
summer  of  3S5.  The  festal  letters  of  which  Cassian  here  speaks 
were  issued  by  him  in  the  year  399. 

4  The  Anthropomorphite  heresy,  into  which  the  monks  of  Egypt 
had  fallen,  "supposed  that  God  possesses  eyes,  a  face,  and  hands 
and  other  members  of  a  bodily  organization."  It  arose  from  tak- 
ing too  literally  those  passages  of  the  Old  Testament  in  which  God 
is  spoken  of  in  human  terms,  out  of  condescension  to  man's  limited 
powers  of  grasping  the  Divine  nature  and  appears  historically  to 
have  been  a  recoil  from  the  allegorism  of  Origen  and  others  of  the 
Alexandrian  school.  The  Festal  letter  of  Theophilus  in  which  he 
condemned  these  views,  and  maintained  the  incorporeal  nature  of 
God  is  no  longer  extant,  but  is  alluded  to  also  by  Sozomen,  H.  E. 
VIII.  xi.,  where  an  account  is  given  of  the  Origenistic  controversy, 
of  which  it  was  the  occasion,  and  out  of  which  Theophilus  came  so 
badly.  On  the  heresy  see  also  Epiphanius,  Hir.  lxx.;  Augustine. 
Haer.  1.  and  lxxvi.;  and  Theodoret,  H.  E.  IV.  x. 


4-02 


CASSIAN'S  CONFERENCES. 


figure,  though  Scripture  teaches  with  perfect 
clearness  that  Adam  was  created  in  His  image. 
Lastly  this  letter  was  rejected  also  by  those 
who  were  living  in  the  desert  of  Scete  and  who 
excelled  all  who  were  in  the  monasteries  of 
Egypt,  in  perfection  and  in  knowledge,  so  that 
except  Abbot  Paphnutius  the  presbyter  of  our 
congregation,  not  one  of  the  other  presbyters, 
who  presided  over  the  other  three  churches  in 
the  same  desert,  would  suffer  it  to  be  even 
read  or  repeated  at  all  in  their  meetings. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Of  Abbot  Sarapion  and  the  heresy  of  the  Anthropomorphites 
into  which  he  fell  in  the  error  of  simplicity. 

Among  those  then  who  were  caught  by  this 
mistaken  notion  was  one  named  Sarapion,  a 
man  of  long-standing  strictness  of  life,  and 
one  who  was  altogether  perfect  in  actual  dis- 
cipline, whose  ignorance  with  regard  to  the 
view  of  the  doctrine  first  mentioned  was  so  far 
a  stumbling  block  to  all  who  held  the  true 
faith,  as  he  himself  outstripped  almost  all  the 
monks  both  in  the  merits  of  his  life  and  in 
the  length  of  time  (he  had  been  there).  And 
when  this  man  could  not  be  brought  back*  to 
the  way  of  the  right  faith  by  many  exhorta- 
tions of  the  holy  presbyter  Paphnutius,  because 
this  view  seemed  to  him  a  novelty,  and  one 
that  was  not  ever  known  to  or  handed  down 
by  his  predecessors,  it  chanced  that  a  certain 
deacon,  a  man  of  very  great  learning,  named 
Photinus,  arrived  from  the  region  of  Cappa- 
docia  with  the  desire  of  visiting  the  brethren 
living  in  the  same  desert :  whom  the  blessed 
Paphnutius  received  with  the  warmest  wel- 
come, and  in  order  to  confirm  the  faith  which 
had  been  stated  in  the  letters  of  the  aforesaid 
Bishop,  placed  him  in  the  midst  and  asked 
him  before  all  the  brethren  how  the  Catholic 
Churches  throughout  the  East  interpreted  the 
passage  in  Genesis  where  it  says  "  Let  vis  make 
man  after  our  image  and  likeness."1  And 
when  he  explained  that  the  image  and  like- 
ness of  God  was  taken  by  all  the  leaders  of 
the  churches  not  according  to  the  base  sound 
of  the  letters,  but  spiritually,  and  supported  this 
very  fully  and  by  many  passages  of  Scripture, 
and  showed  that  nothing  of  this  sort  could 
happen  to  that  infinite  and  incomprehensible 
and  invisible  glory,  so  that  it  could  be  com- 
prised in  a  human  form  and  likeness,  since  its 
nature  is  incorporeal  and  uncompounded  and 


1  Gen.  i.  26. 


simple,  and  what  can  neither  be  apprehended 
by  the  eyes  nor  conceived  by  the  mind,  at 
length  the  old  man  was  shaken  by  the  numer- 
ous and  very  weighty  assertions  of  this  most 
learned  man,  and  was  drawn  to  the  faith  of 
the  Catholic  tradition.  And  when  both  Abbot 
Paphnutius  and  all  of  us  were  filled  with  intense 
delight  at  his  adhesion,  for  this  reason ;  viz., 
that  the  Lord  had  not  permitted  a  man  of  such 
age  and  crowned  with  such  virtues,  and  one 
who  erred  only  from  ignorance  and  rustic  sim- 
plicity, to  wander  from  the  path  of  the  right 
faith  up  to  the  very  last,  and  when  we  arose  to 
give  thanks,  and  were  all  together  offering  up 
our  prayers  to  the  Lord,  the  old  man  was  so 
bewildered  in  mind  during  his  prayer  because 
he  felt  that  the  Anthropomorphic  image  of  the 
Godhead  which  he  used  to  set  before  himself 
in  prayer,  was  banished  from  his  heart,  that 
on  a  sudden  he  burst  into  a  flood  of  bitter 
tears  and  continual  sobs,  and  cast  himself 
down  on  the  ground  and  exclaimed  with  strong 
groanings  :  "  Alas  !  wretched  man  that  I  am  ! 
they  have  taken  away  my  God  from  me,  and  I 
have  now  none  to  lay  hold  of  ;  and  whom  to 
worship  and  address  I  know  not."  By  which 
scene  we  were  terribly  disturbed,  and  more- 
over with  the  effect  of  the  former  Conference 
still  remaining  in  our  hearts,  we  returned  to 
Abbot  Isaac,  whom  when  we  saw  close  at 
hand,  we  addressed  with  these  words. 


CHAPTER   IV. 


Of   our  return  to  Abbot  Isaac  and  question   concerning   the 
error  into  which  the  aforesaid  old  man  had  fallen. 


Although  even  besides  the  fresh  matter 
which  has  lately  arisen,  our  delight  in  the 
former  conference  which  was  held  on  the  char- 
acter of  prayer  would  summon  us  to  postpone 
everything  else  and  return  to  your  holiness,  yet 
this  grievous  error  of  Abbot  Sarapion,  con- 
ceived, as  we  fancy,  by  the  craft  of  most  vile 
demons,  adds  somewhat  to  this  desire  of  ours. 
For  it  is  no  small  despair  by  which  we  are  cast 
down  when  we  consider  that  through  the  fault 
of  this  ignorance  he  has  not  only  utterly  lost  all 
those  labours  which  he  has  performed  in  so 
praiseworthy  a  manner  for  fifty  years  in  this 
desert,  but  has  also  incurred  the  risk  of  eternal 
death.  And  so  we  want  first  to  know  why  and 
wherefore  so  grievous  an  error  has  crept  into 
him.  And  next  we  should  like  to  be  taught  how 
we  can  arrive  at  that  condition  in  prayer,  of 
which  you  discoursed  some  time  back  not  only 
fully  but  splendidly.    For  that  admirable  Con- 


THE    SECOND    CONFERENCE   OF    ABBOT    ISAAC. 


403 


ference  has  had  this  effect  upon  us,  that  it  has 
only  dazzled  our  minds  and  has  not  shown  us 
how  to  perform  or  secure  it. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  answer  or  the  heresy  described  above. 

Isaac  :  We  need  not  be  surprised  that  a 
really  simple  man  who  had  never  received  any 
instruction  on  the  substance  and  nature  of  the 
Godhead  could  still  be  entangled  and  deceived 
by  an  error  of  simplicity  and  the  habit  of  a  long- 
standing mistake,  and  (to  speak  more  truly) 
continue  in  the  original  error  which  is  brought 
about,  not  as  you  suppose  by  a  new  illusion  of 
the  demons,  but  by  the  ignorance  of  the  ancient 
heathen  world,  while  in  accordance  with  the 
custom  of  that  erroneous  notion,  by  which  they 
used  to  worship  devils  formed  in  the  figure  of 
men,  they  even  now  think  that  the  incompre- 
hensible and  ineffable  glory  of  the  true  Deity 
should  be  worshipped  under  the  limitations  of 
some  figure,  as  they  believe  that  they  can  grasp 
and  hold  nothing  if  they  have  not  some  image 
set  before  them,  which  they  can  continually 
address  while  they  are  at  their  devotions,  and 
which  they  can  carry  about  in  their  mind  and 
have  always  fixed  before  their  eyes.  And 
against  this  mistake  of  theirs  this  text  may  be 
used  :  "  And  they  changed  the  glory  of  the 
incorruptible  God  into  the  likeness  of  the 
image  of  corruptible  man." 1  Jeremiah  also 
says  :  "  My  people  have  changed  their  glory 
for  an  idol."  2  Which  error  although  by  this 
its  origin,  of  which  we  have  spoken,  it  is  en- 
grained in  the  notions  of  some,  yet  none  the 
less  is  it  contracted  in  the  hearts  also  of  those 
who  have  never  been  stained  with  the  supersti- 
tion of  the  heathen  world,  under  the  colour  of 
this  passage  where  it  is  said  "  Let  us  make  man 
after  our  image  and  our  likeness,"  3  ignorance 
and  simplicity  being  its  authors,  so  that  actu- 
ally there  has  arisen  owing  to  this  hateful 
interpretation  a  heresy  called  that  of  the  An- 
thropomorphites,  which  maintains  with  obsti- 
nate perverseness  that  the  infinite  and  simple 
substance  of  the  Godhead  is  fashioned  in  our 
lineaments  and  human  configuration.  Which 
however  any  one  who  has  been  taught  the 
Catholic  doctrine  will  abhor  as  heathenish  blas- 
phemy, and  so  will  arrive  at  that  perfectly  pure 
condition  in  prayer  which  will  not  only  not  con- 
nect with  its  prayers  any  figure  of  the  Godhead 
or  bodily  lineaments  (which  it  is  a  sin  even  to 
speak  of),  but  will  not  even  allow  in  itself  even 
the  memory  of  a  name,  or  the  appearance  of 
an  action,  or  an  outline  of  any  character. 


1  Rom.  i.  23. 


2  Jer.  ii.  11. 


3  Gen.  i.  26. 


CHAPTER   VI. 


Of  the  reasons  why  Jesus  Christ  appears  to  each  one  of  us 
either  in  His  humility  or  in  His  glorified  condition. 


For  according  to  the  measure  of  its  purity, 
as  I  said  in  the  former  Conference,  each  mind 
is  both  raised  and  moulded  in  its  prayer,  if 
it  forsakes  the  consideration  of  earthly  and 
material  things  so  far  as  the  condition  of  its 
purity  may  carry  it  forward,  and  enable  it  with 
the  inner  eyes  of  the  soul  to  see  Jesus  either 
still  in  His  humility  and  in  the  flesh,  or  glori- 
fied and  coming  in  the  glory  of  His  Majesty  : 
for  those  cannot  see  Jesus  coming  in  His 
Kingdom  who  are  still  kept  back  in  a  sort  of 
state  of  Jewish  weakness,  and  cannot  say  with 
the  Apostle  :  "  And  if  we  have  known  Christ 
after  the  flesh,  yet  now  we  know  Him  so  no 
more  ;  "  4  but  only  those  can  look  with  purest 
eyes  on  His  Godhead,  who  rise  with  Him  from 
low  and  earthly  works  and  thoughts  and  go 
apart  in  the  lofty  mountain  of  solitude  which 
is  free  from  the  disturbance  of  all  earthly 
thoughts  and  troubles,  and  secure  from  the 
interference  of  all  sins,  and  being  exalted  by 
pure  faith  and  the  heights  of  virtue  reveals 
the  glory  of  His  Face  and  the  image  of  His 
splendour  to  those  who  are  able  to  look  on 
Him  with  pure  eyes  of  the  soul.  But  Jesus  is 
seen  as  well  by  those  who  live  in  towns  and 
villages  and  hamlets,  i.e.,  who  are  occupied  in 
practical  affairs  and  works,  but  not  with  the 
same  brightness  with  which  He  appeared  to 
those  who  can  go  up  with  Him  into  the  afore- 
said mount  of  virtues,  i.e.,  Peter,  James,  and 
John.  For  so  in  solitude  He  appeared  to  Moses 
and  spoke  with  Elias.  And  as  our  Lord  wished 
to  establish  this  and  to  leave  us  examples 
of  perfect  purity,  although  He  Himself,  the 
very  fount  of  inviolable  sanctity,  had  no  need 
of  external  help  and  the  assistance  of  soli- 
tude in  order  to  secure  it  (for  the  fulness  of 
purity  could  not  be  soiled  by  any  stain  from 
crowds,  nor  could  He  be  contaminated  by  in- 
tercourse with  men,  who  cleanses  and  sanctifies 
all  things  that  are  polluted)  yet  still  He  retired 
into  the  mountain  alone  to  pray,  thus  teach- 
ing us  by  the  example  of  His  retirement  that 
if  we  too  wish  to  approach  God  with  a  pure 
and  spotless  affection  of  heart,  we  should  also 
retire  from  all  the  disturbance  and  confusion 
of  crowds,  so  that  while  still  living  in  the  body  we 
may  manage  in  some  degree  to  adapt  ourselves 
to  some  likeness  of  that  bliss  which  is  promised 
hereafter  to  the  saints,  and  that  "  God  may 
be"  to  us  "all  in  all."5 


*  2  Cor.  v.  16. 


5  1  Cor.  xv.  28 


4-04 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

What  constitutes  our  end  and  perfect  bliss. 

For  then  will  be  perfectly  fulfilled  in  our 
case  that  prayer  of  our  Saviour  in  which  He 
prayed  for  His  disciples  to  the  Father  saying  : 
"  that  the  love  wherewith  Thou  lovedst  Me 
may  be  in  them  and  they  in  us  ;  "  and  again  : 
"  that  they  all  may  be  one  as  Thou,  Father,  in 
Me  and  I  in  Thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one 
in  us,"  1  when  that  perfect  love  of  God,  where- 
with "  He  first  loved  us"  2  has  passed  into  the 
feelings  of  our  heart  as  well,  by  the  fulfilment 
of  this  prayer  of  the  Lord  which  we  believe 
cannot  possibly  be  ineffectual.  And  this  will 
come  to  pass  when  God  shall  be  all  our  love, 
and  every  desire  and  wish  and  effort,  every 
thought  of  ours,  and  all  our  life  and  words  and 
breath,  and  that  unity  which  already  exists 
between  the  Father  and  the  Son,  and  the  Son 
and  the  Father,  has  been  shed  abroad  in  our 
hearts  and  minds,  so  that  as  He  loves  us 
with  a  pure  and  unfeigned  and  indissoluble 
love,  so  we  also  may  be  joined  to  Him  by  a 
lasting  and  inseparable  affection,  since  we  are 
so  united  to  Him  that  whatever  we  breathe  or 
think,  or  speak  is  God,  since,  as  I  say,  we 
attain  to  that  end  of  which  we  spoke  before, 
which  the  same  Lord  in  His  prayer  hopes  may 
be  fulfilled  in  us  :  "  that  they  all  may  be  one  as 
we  are  one,  I  in  them  and  Thou  in  Me,  that 
they  also  may  be  made  perfect  in  one  ;  "  and 
again  :  "  Father,  those  whom  Thou  hast  given 
Me,  I  will  that  where  I  am,  they  may  also  be 
with  Me."  3  This  then  ought  to  be  the  destina- 
tion of  the  solitary,  this  should  be  all  his  aim 
that  it  may  be  vouchsafed  to  him  to  possess 
even  in  the  body  an  image  of  future  bliss,  and 
that  he  may  begin  in  this  world  to  have  a 
foretaste  of  a  sort  of  earnest  of  that  celestial 
life  and  glory.  This,  I  say,  is  the  end  of  all 
perfection,  that  the  mind  purged  from  all  car- 
nal desires  may  daily  be  lifted  towards  spir- 
itual things,  until  the  whole  life  and  all  the 
thoughts  of  the  heart  become  one  continuous 
prayer. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

A  question   on  the   training  in  perfection  by  which  we  can 
arrive  at  perpetual  recollection  of  God. 

Germanus  :  The  extent  of  our  bewilder- 
ment at  our  wondering  awe  at  the  former 
Conference,  because  of  which  we  came  back 
again,  increases  still  more.     For  in  proportion 


1  S.  John  xvii.  26,  21.     -  1  John  iv.  16.     3  S.  John  xvii.  22-24. 


as  by  the  incitements  of  this  teaching  we  are 
fired  with  the  desire  of  perfect  bliss,  so  do  we 
fall  back  into  greater  despair,  as  we  know  not 
how  to  seek  or  obtain  training  for  such  lofty 
heights.  Wherefore  we  entreat  that  you  will 
patiently  allow  us  (for  it  must  perhaps  be  set 
forth  and  unfolded  with  a  good  deal  of  talk)  to 
explain  what  while  sitting  in  the  cell  we  had 
begun  to  revolve  in  a  lengthy  meditation, 
although  we  know  that  your  holiness  is  not  at 
all  troubled  by  the  infirmities  of  the  weak, 
which  even  for  this  reason  should  be  openly 
set  forth,  that  what  is  out  of  place  in  them 
may  receive  correction.  Our  notion  then  is 
that  the  perfection  of  any  art  or  system  of 
training  must  begin  with  some  simple  rudi- 
ments, and  grow  accustomed  first  to  somewhat 
easy  and  tender  beginnings,  so  that  being 
nourished  and  trained  little  by  little  by  a  sort 
of  reasonable  milk,  it  may  grow  up  and  so  by 
degrees  and  step  by  step  mount  up  from  the 
lowest  depths  to  the  heights  :  and  when  by 
these  means  it  has  entered  on  the  plainer  prin- 
ciples and  so  to  speak  passed  the  gates  of  the 
entrance  of  the  profession,  it  will  consequently 
arrive  without  difficulty  at  the  inmost  shrine 
and  lofty  heights  of  perfection.  For  how 
could  any  boy  manage  to  pronounce  the  sim- 
plest union  of  syllables  unless  he  had  first 
carefully  learnt  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  ?  Or 
how  can  any  one  learn  to  read  quickly,  who  is 
still  unfit  to  connect  together  short  and  simple 
sentences  ?  But  by  what  means  will  one  who 
is  ill  instructed  in  the  science  of  grammar 
attain  eloquence  in  rhetoric  or  the  knowledge 
of  philosophy  ?  Wherefore  for  this  highest 
learning  also,  by  which  we  are  taught  even  to 
cleave  to  God,  1  have  no  doubt  that  there  are 
some  foundations  of  the  system,  which  must 
first  be  firmly  laid  and  afterwards  the  towering 
heights  of  perfection  may  be  placed  and  raised 
upon  them.  And  we  have  a  slight  idea  that 
these  are  its  first  principles  ;  viz.,  that  we  should 
first  learn  by  what  meditations  God  may  be 
grasped  and  contemplated,  and  next  that  we 
should  manage  to  keep  a  very  firm  hold  of  this 
topic  whatever  it  is  which  we  do  not  doubt  is 
the  height  of  all  perfection.  And  therefore  we 
want  you  to  show  us  some  material  for  this 
recollection,  by  which  we  may  conceive  and 
ever  keep  the  idea  of  God  in  the  mind,  so  that 
by  always  keeping  it  before  our  eyes,  when  we 
find  that  we  have  dropped  away  from  Him. 
we  may  at  once  be  able  to  recover  ourselves 
and  return  thither  and  may  succeed  in  laying 
hold  of  it  again  without  any  delay  from  wan- 
dering around  the  subject  and  searching  for  it. 
For  it  happens  that  when  we  have  wandered 
away  from  our  spiritual  speculations  and 
have  come  back  to  ourselves  as  if  waking  from 


THE    SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    ISAAC. 


405 


a  deadly  sleep,  and,  being  thoroughly  roused, 
look  for  the  subject  matter,  by  which  we  may 
be  able  to  revive  that  spiritual  recollection 
which  has  been  destroyed,  we  are  hindered  by 
the  delay  of  the  actual  search  before  we  find 
it,  and  are  once  more  drawn  aside  from  our 
endeavour,  and  before  the  spiritual  insight  is 
brought  about,  the  purpose  of  heart  which  had 
been  conceived,  has  disappeared.  And  this 
trouble  is  certain  to  happen  to  us  for  this 
reason  because  we  do  not  keep  something 
special  firmly  set  before  our  eyes  like  some 
principle  to  which  the  wandering  thoughts 
may  be  recalled  after  many  digressions  and 
varied  excursions  ;  and,  if  I  may  use  the  ex- 
pression, after  long  storms  enter  a  quiet  haven. 
And  so  it  comes  to  pass  that  as  the  mind  is 
constantly  hindered  by  this  want  of  knowledge 
and  difficulty,  and  is  always  tossed  about 
vaguely,  and  as  if  intoxicated,  among  various 
matters,  and  cannot  even  retain  firm  hold  for 
any  length  of  time  of  anything  spiritual  which 
has  occurred  to  it  by  chance  rather  than  of  set 
purpose  :  while,  as  it  is  always  receiving  one 
thing  after  another,  it  does  not  notice  either 
their  beginning  and  origin  or  even  their  end. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

The  answer  on  the  efficacy  of  understanding,  which  is 
gained  by  experience. 

Isaac  :  Your  minute  and  subtle  inquiry 
affords  an  indication  of  purity  being  very 
nearly  reached.  For  no  one  would  be  able 
even  to  make  inquiries  on  these  matters,  — 
I  will  not  say  to  look  within  and  discriminate, 
—  except  one  who  had  been  urged  to  sound 
the  depths  of  such  questions  by  careful  and 
effectual  diligence  of  mind,  and  watchful 
anxiety,  and  one  whom  the  constant  aim  after 
a  well  controlled  life  had  taught  by  practical 
experience  to  attempt  the  entrance  to  this 
purity  and  to  knock  at  its  doors.  And  there- 
fore as  I  see  you,  I  will  not  say,  standing 
before  the  doors  of  that  true  prayer  of  which 
we  have  been  speaking,  but  touching  its  inner 
chambers  and  inward  parts  as  it  were  with 
the  hands  of  experience,  and  already  laying 
hold  of  some  parts  of  it,  I  do  not  think  that  I 
shall  find  any  difficulty  in  introducing  you  now 
within  what  I  may  call  its  hall,  for  you  to  roam 
about  its  recesses,  as  the  Lord  may  direct ; 
nor  do  I  think  that  you  will  be  hindered  from 
investigating  what  is  to  be  shown  you  by  any 
obstacles  or  difficulties.  For  he  is  next  door 
to  understanding  who  carefully  recognizes  what 
he  ought  to  ask  about,  nor  is  he  far  from 
knowledge,    who    begins    to    understand   how 


ignorant  he  is.  And  therefore  I  am  not  afraid 
of  the  charge  of  betraying  secrets,  and  of 
levity,  if  I  divulge  what  when  speaking  in 
my  former  discourse  on  the  perfection  of 
prayer  I  had  kept  back  from  discussing,  as  I 
think  that  its  force  was  to  be  explained  to  us 
who  are  occupied  with  this  subject  and  inter- 
est even  without  the  aid  of  my  words,  by  the 
grace  of  God. 

CHAPTER   X. 

Of  the  method  of  continual  prayer. 

Wherefore  in  accordance  with  that  system, 
which  you  admirably  compared  to  teaching 
children  (who  can  only  take  in  the  first  lessons 
on  the  alphabet  and  recognize  the  shapes  of 
the  letters,  and  trace  out  their  characters  with 
a  steady  hand  if  they  have,  by  means  of  some 
copies  and  shapes  carefully  impressed  on  wax, 
got  accustomed  to  express  their  figures,  by 
constantly  looking  at  them  and  imitating  them 
daily),  we  must  give  you  also  the  form  of  this 
spiritual  contemplation,  on  which  you  may 
always  fix  your  gaze  with  the  utmost  steadiness, 
and  both  learn  to  consider  it  to  your  profit  in 
unbroken  continuance,  and  also  manage  by  the 
practice  of  it  and  by  meditation  to  climb  to  a 
still  loftier  insight.  This  formula  then  shall 
be  proposed  to  you  of  this  system,  which  you 
want,  and  of  prayer,  which  every  monk  in  his 
progress  towards  continual  recollection  of  God, 
is  accustomed  to  ponder,  ceaselessly  revolv- 
ing it  in  his  heart,  having  got  rid  of  all 
kinds  of  other  thoughts  ;  for  he  cannot  possibly 
keep  his  hold  over  it  unless  he  has  freed  him- 
self from  all  bodily  cares  and  anxieties.  And 
as  this  was  delivered  to  us  by  a  few  of  those 
who  were  left  of  the  oldest  fathers,  so  it  is  only 
divulged  by  us  to  a  very  few  and  to  those  who 
are  really  keen.  And  so  for  keeping  up  con- 
tinual recollection  of  God  this  pious  formula  is 
to  be  ever  set  before  you.  "  O  God,  make 
speed  to  save  me  :  O  Lord,  make  haste  to  help 
me,"  1  for  this  verse  has  not  unreasonably  been 
picked  out  from  the  whole  of  Scripture  for 
this  purpose.  For  it  embraces  all  the  feelings 
which  can  be  implanted  in  human  nature,  and 
can  be  fitly  and  satisfactorily  adapted  to  every 
condition,  and  all  assaults.  Since  it  contains 
an  invocation  of  God  against  every  danger,  it 
contains  humble  and  pious  confession,  it  con- 
tains the  watchfulness  of  anxiety  and  continual 
fear,  it  contains  the  thought  of  one's  own 
weakness,  confidence  in  the  answer,  and  the 
assurance  of  a  present  and   ever   ready  help. 


1  Ps.  lxix.  (lxx.)  2.  It  is  not  improbable  that  this  chapter  sug- 
gested to  S.  Benedict  the  use  of  these  words  as  the  opening  versicle 
of  the  hour  services,  a  position  which  it  has  ever  since  occupied  in 
the  West.       See  the  Rule  of  S.  Benedict,  cc.  ix.,  xvii.,  and  xviii. 


406 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


For  one  who  is  constantly  calling  on  his  pro- 
tector, is  certain  that  He  is  always  at  hand. 
It  contains  the  glow  of  love  and  charity,  it  con- 
tains a  view  of  the  plots,  and  a  dread  4of  the 
enemies,  from  which  one,  who  sees  himself  day 
and  night  hemmed  in  by  them,  confesses  that 
he  cannot  be  set  free  without  the  aid  of  his 
defender.  This  verse  is  an  impregnable  wall 
for  all  who  are  labouring  under  the  attacks  of 
demons,  as  well  as  impenetrable  coat  of  mail 
and  a  .strong  shield.  It  does  not  suffer  those 
who  are  in  a  state  of  moroseness  and  anxiety 
of  mind,  or  depressed  by  sadness  or  all  kinds 
of  thoughts  to  despair  of  saving  remedies,  as 
it  shows  that  He,  who  is  invoked;  is  ever  look- 
ing on  at  our  struggles  and  is  not  far  from  His 
suppliants.  It  warns  us  whose  lot  is  spiritual 
success  and  delight  of  heart  that  we  ought  not 
to  be  at  all  elated  or  puffed  up  by  our  happy 
condition,  which  it  assures  us  cannot  last  with- 
out God  as  our  protector,  while  it  implores 
Him  not  only  always  but  even  speedily  to  help 
us.  This  verse,  I  say,  will  be  found  helpful 
and  useful  to  every  one  of  us  in  whatever  con- 
dition we  may  be.  For  one  who  always  and 
in  all  matters  wants  to  be  helped,  shows  that 
he  needs  the  assistance  of  God  not  only  in 
sorrowful  or  hard  matters  but  also  equally  in 
prosperous  and  happy  ones,  that  he  may  be  de- 
livered from  the  one  and  also  made  to  continue 
in  the  other,  as  he  knows  that  in  both  of  them 
human  weakness  is  unable  to  endure  without 
His  assistance.  I  am  affected  by  the  passion 
of  gluttony.  I  ask  for  food  of  which  the  des- 
ert knows  nothing,  and  in  the  squalid  desert 
there  are  wafted  to  me  odours  of  royal  dainties, 
and  I  find  that  even  against  my  will  I  am  drawn 
to  long  for  them.  I  must  at  once  say :  "  O 
God,  make  speed  to  save  me  :  O  Lord,  make 
haste  to  help  me."  I  am  incited  to  anticipate 
the  hour  fixed  for  supper,  or  I  am  trying  with 
great  sorrow  of  heart  to  keep  to  the  limits  of 
the  right  and  regular  meagre  fare.  I  must  cry 
out  with  groans :  "  O  God,  make  speed  to  save 
me  :  O  Lord,  make  haste  to  help  me."  Weak- 
ness of  the  stomach  hinders  me  when  wanting 
severer  fasts,  on  account  of  the  assaults  of  the 
flesh,  or  dryness  of  the  belly  and  constipation 
frightens  me.  In  order  that  effect  may  be 
given  to  my  wishes,  or  else  that  the  fire  of  car- 
nal lust  may  be  quenched  without  the  remedy 
of  a  stricter  fast,  I  must  pray :  "  O  God,  make 
speed  to  save  me :  O  Lord,  make  haste  to  help 
me."  When  I  come  to  supper,  at  the  bidding 
of  the  proper  hour  I  loathe  taking  food  and  am 
prevented  from  eating  anything  to  satisfy  the 
requirements  of  nature  :  I  must  cry  with  a 
sigh  :  "  O  God,  make  speed  to  save  me  :  O  Lord, 
make  haste  to  help  me."  When  I  want  for  the 
sake  of  steadfastness  of  heart  to  apply  myself 


to  reading  a  headache  interferes  and  stops  me, 
and  at  the  third  hour  sleep  glues  my  head  to 
the  sacred  page,  and  I  am  forced  either  to 
overstep  or  to  anticipate  the  time  assigned 
to  rest ;  and  finally  an.  overpowering  desire  to 
sleep  forces  me  to  cut  short  the  canonical  rule 
for  service  in  the  Psalms  :  in  the  same  way  I 
must  cry  out :  "  O  God,  make  speed  to  save  me  : 

0  Lord,  make  haste  to  help  me."  Sleep  is 
withdrawn  from  my  eyes,  and  for  many  nights 

1  find  myself  wearied  out  with  sleeplessness 
caused  by  the  devil,  and  all  repose  and  rest  by 
night  is  kept  away  from  my  eyelids  ;  I  must  sigh 
and  pray  :  "  O  God,  make  speed  to  save  me  : 
O  Lord,  make  haste  to  help  me."  While  I  am 
still  in  the  midst  of  a  struggle  with  sin  sud- 
denly an  irritation  of  the  flesh  affects  me  and 
tries  by  a  pleasant  sensation  to  draw  me  to 
consent  while  in  »my  sleep.  In  order  that  a 
raging  fire  from  without  may  not  burn  up  the 
fragrant  blossoms  of  chastity,  I  must  cry  out: 
"  O  God,  make  speed  to  save  me :  O  Lord,  make 
haste  to  help  me."  I  feel  that  the  incentive  to 
lust  is  removed,  and  that  the  heat  of  passion 
has  died  away  in  my  members  :  In  order  that 
this  good  condition  acquired,  or  rather  that  this 
grace  of  God  may  continue  still  longer  or  for- 
ever with  me,  I  must  earnestly  say :  "  O  God, 
make  speed  to  save  me  :  O  Lord,  make  haste 
to  help  me."  I  am  disturbed  by  the  pangs  of 
anger,  covetousness,  gloominess,  and  driven  to 
disturb  the  peaceful  state  in  which  I  was,  and 
which  was  dear  to  me  :  In  order  that  I  may 
not  be  carried  away  by  raging  passion  into  the 
bitterness  of  gall,  I  must  cry  out  with  deep 
groans  :  "  O  God,  make  speed  to  save  me  :  O 
Lord,  make  haste  to  help  me."  I  am  tried  by 
being  puffed  up  by  accidie,  vainglory,  and 
pride,  and  my  mind  with  subtle  thoughts  flat- 
ters itself  somewhat  on  account  of  the  coldness 
and  carelessness  of  others :  In  order  that  this 
dangerous  suggestion  of  the  enemy  may  not  get 
the  mastery  over  me,  I  must  pray  with  all  con- 
trition of  heart :  "  O  God,  make  speed  to  save 
me  :  O  Lord,  make  haste  to  help  me."  I  have 
gained  the  grace  of  humility  and  simplicity, 
and  by  continually  mortifying  my  spirit  have  got 
rid  of  the  swellings  of  pride  :  In  order  that  the 
"  foot  of  pride  "  may  not  again  "  come  against 
me,"  and  "the  hand  of  the  sinner  disturb  me,"  1 
and  that  I  may  not  be  more  seriously  damaged 
by  elation  at  my  success,  I  must  cry  with  all 
my  might,  "  O  God,  make  speed  to  save  me  :  O 
Lord,  make  haste  to  help  me."  I  am  on  fire 
with  innumerable  and  various  wanderings  of 
soul  and  shiftiness  of  heart,  and  cannot  collect 
my  scattered  thoughts,  nor  can  I  even  pour 
forth  my  prayer  without  interruption  and  images 


1  Ps.  xxxv.  (xxxvi.)  12. 


THE   SECOND    CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   ISAAC. 


407 


of  vain  figures,  and  the  recollection  of  conver- 
sations and  actions,  and  I  feel  myself,  tied  down 
by  such  dryness  and  barrenness  that  I  feel  I 
cannot  give  birth  to  any  offspring  in  the  shape 
of  spiritual  ideas  :  In  order  that  it  may  be 
vouchsafed  to  me  to  be  set  free  from  this 
wretched  state  of  mind,  from  which  I  cannot 
extricate  myself  by  any  number  of  sighs  and 
groans,  I  must  full  surely  cry  out :  "  O  God,  make 
speed  to  save  me  :  O  Lord,  make  haste  to  help 
me."  Again,  I  feel  that  by  the  visitation  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  I  have  gained  purpose  of  soul, 
steadfastness  of  thought,  keenness  of  heart, 
together  with  an  ineffable  joy  and  transport  of 
mind,  and  in  the  exuberance  of  spiritual  feel- 
ings I  have  perceived  by  a  sudden  illumination 
from  the  Lord  an  abounding  revelation  of  most 
holy  ideas  which  were  formerly  altogether  hid- 
den from  me  :  In  order  that  it  may  be  vouch- 
safed to  me  to  linger  for  a  longer  time  in  them 
I  must  often  and  anxiously  exclaim  :  "  O  God, 
make  speed  to  save  me  :  O  Lord,  make  haste 
to  help  me."  Encompassed  by  nightly  horrors 
of  devils  I  am  agitated,  and  am  disturbed  by 
the  appearances  of  unclean  spirits,  my  very  hope 
of  life  and  salvation  is  withdrawn  by  the  hor- 
ror of  fear.  Flying  to  the  safe  refuge  .of  this 
verse,  I  will  cry  out  with  all  my  might :  "  O 
God,  make  speed  to  save  me  :  O  Lord,  make 
haste  to  help  me.'  Again,  when  I  have  been 
restored  by  the  Lord's  consolation,  and,  cheered 
by  His  coming,  feel  myself  encompassed  as  if 
by  countless  thousands  of  angels,  so  that  all  of 
a  sudden  I  can  venture  to  seek  the  conflict  and 
provoke  a  battle  with  those  whom  a  while  ago 
I  dreaded  worse  than  death,  and  whose  touch 
or  even  approach  I  felt  with  a  shudder  both  of 
mind  and  body :  In  order  that  the  vigour  of  this 
courage  may,  by  God's  grace,  continue  in  me 
still  longer,  I  must  cry  out  with  all  my  powers : 
"  O  God,  make  speed  to  save  me :  O  Lord,  make 
haste  to  help  me."  We  must  then  ceaselessly 
and  continuously  pour  forth  the  prayer  of  this 
verse,  in  adversity  that  we  may  be  delivered, 
in  prosperity  that  we  may  be  preserved  and 
not  puffed  up.  Let  the  thought  of  this  verse, 
I  tell  you,  be  conned  over  in  your  breast  with- 
out ceasing.  Whatever  work  you  are  doing,  or 
office  you  are  holding,  or  journey  you  are  going, 
do  not  cease  to  chant  this.  When  you  are 
going  to  bed,  or  eating,  and  in  the  last  necessi- 
ties of  nature,  think  on  this.  This  thought  in 
your  heart  may  be  to  you  a  saving  formula,  and 
not  only  keep  you  unharmed  by  all  attacks  of 
devils,  but  also  purify  you  from  all  faults  and 
earthly  stains,  and  lead  you  to  that  invisible 
and  celestial  contemplation,  and  carry  you  on 
to  that  ineffable  glow  of  prayer,  of  which  so 
few  have  any  experience.     Let  sleep  come  upon 


you  still  considering  this  verse,  till  having  been 
moulded  by  the  constant  use  of  it,  you  grow 
accustomed  to  repeat  it  even  in  your  sleep. 
When  you  wake  let  it  be  the  first  thing  to  come 
into  your  mind,  let  it  anticipate  all  your  waking 
thoughts,  let  it  when  you  rise  from  your  bed 
send  you  down  on  your  knees,  and  thence  send 
you  forth  to  all  your  work  and  business,  and 
let  it  follow  you  about  all  day  long.  This  you 
should  think  about,  according  to  the  Lawgiver's- 
charge,  "  at  home  and  walking  forth  on  a  jour- 
ney," J  sleeping  and  waking.  This  you  should 
write  on  the  threshold  and  door  of  your  mouth, 
this  you  should  place  on  the  walls  of  your  house 
and  in  the  recesses  of  your  heart  so  that  when 
you  fall  on  your  knees  in  prayer  this  may  be 
your  chant  as  you  kneel,  and  when  you  rise  up 
from  it  to  go  forth  to  all  the  necessary  business 
of  life  it  may  be  your  constant  prayer  as  you 
stand. 


CHAPTER   XL 

Of  the  perfection  of  prayer  to  which  we  can  rise  by  the  system 
described. 

This,  this  is  the  formula  which  the  mind 
should  unceasingly  cling  to  until,  strengthened 
by  the  constant  use  of  it  and  by  continual 
meditation,  it  casts  off  and  rejects  the  rich 
and  full  material  of  all  manner  of  thoughts 
and  restricts  itself  to  the  poverty  of  this  one 
verse,  and  so  arrives  with  ready  ease  at  that 
beatitude  of  the  gospel,  which  holds  the  first 
place  among  the  other  beatitudes :  for  He 
says  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs 
is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  2  And  so  one  who 
becomes  grandly  poor  by  a  poverty  of  this 
sort  will  fulfil  this  saying  of  the  prophet : 
"  The  poor  and  needy  shall  praise  the  name 
of  the  Lord."  3  And  indeed  what  greater  or 
holier  poverty  can  there  be  than  that  of  one 
who  knowing  that  he  has  no  defence  and  no 
strength  of  his  own,  asks  for  daily  help  from 
another's  bounty,  and  as  he  is  aware  that.every 
single  moment  his  life  and  substance  depend 
on  Divine  assistance,  professes  himself  not 
without  reason  the  Lord's  bedesman,  and  cries 
to  Him  daily  in  prayer  :  "  But  I  am  poor  and 
needy  :  the  Lord  helpeth  me."  4  And  so  by 
the  illumination  of  God  Himself  he  mounts  to 
that  manifold  knowledge  of  Him  and  begins 
henceforward  to  be  nourished  on  sublimer  and 
still  more  sacred  mysteries,  in  accordance  with 
these  words  of  the  prophet :  "  The  high  hills 
are  a  refuge  for  the  stags,  the  rocks  for  the 


1  Deut.  vi.  7. 

2  S.  Matt.  v.  3. 


3  Ps.  lxxiii.  (lxxiv.)  21. 

4  Ps.  xxxix  (xl)  17  (LXX.). 


4o8 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


hedgehogs,"  1  which  is  very  fairly  applied  in 
the  sense  we  have  given,  because  whosoever 
continues  in  simplicity  and  innocence  is  not 
injurious  or  offensive  to  any  one,  but  being  con- 
tent with  his  own  simple  condition  endeavours 
simply  to  defend  himself  from  being  spoiled 
by  his  foes,  and  becomes  a  sort  of  spiritual 
hedgehog  and  is  protected  by  the  continual 
shield  of  that  rock  of  the  gospel,  i.e.,  being 
sheltered  by  the  recollection  of  the  Lord's  pas- 
sion and  by  ceaseless  meditation  on  the  verse 
given  above  he  escapes  the  snares  of  his  op- 
posing enemies.  And  of  these  spiritual  hedge- 
hogs we  read  in  Proverbs  as  follows  :  "  And 
the  hedgehogs  are  a  feeble  folk,  who  have 
made  their  homes  in  the  rocks."  2  And  indeed 
what  is  feebler  than  a  Christian,  what  is  weaker 
than  a  monk,  who  is  not  only  not  permitted 
any  vengeance  for  wrongs  done  to  him  but 
is  actually  not  allowed  to  suffer  even  a  slight 
and  silent  feeling  of  irritation  to  spring  up 
within?  But  whoever  advances  from  this 
condition  and  not  only  secures  the  simplicity 
of  innocence,  but  is  also  shielded  by  the  vir- 
tue of  discretion,  becomes  an  exterminator  of 
deadly  serpents,  and  has  Satan  crushed  beneath 
his  feet,  and  by  his  quickness  of  mind  answers 
to  the  figure  of  the  reasonable  stag,  this  man 
will  feed  on  the  mountains  of  the  prophets  and 
Apostles,  i.e.,  on  their  highest  and  loftiest 
mysteries.  And  thriving  on  this  pasture  con- 
tinually, he  will  take  in  to  himself  all  the 
thoughts  of  the  Psalms  and  will  begin  to  sing 
them  in  such  a  way  that  he  will  utter  them 
with  the  deepest  emotion  of  heart  not  as  if 
they  were  the  compositions  of  the  Psalmist, 
but  rather  as  if  they  were  his  own  utterances 
and  his  very  own  prayer;  and  will  certainly 
take  them  as  aimed  at  himself,  and  will  recog- 
nize that  their  words  were  not  only  fulfilled 
formerly  by  or  in  the  person  of  the  prophet, 
but  that  they  are  fulfilled  and  carried  out  daily 
in  his  own  case.  For  then  the  Holy  Scriptures 
lie  open  to  us  with  greater  clearness  and  as  it 
were  their  very  veins  and  marrow  are  exposed, 
when  our  experience  not  only  perceives  but 
actually  anticipates  their  meaning,  and  the 
sense  of  the  words1  is  revealed  to  us  not  by  an 
exposition  of  them  but  by  practical  proof.  For 
if  we  have  experience  of  the  very  state  of  mind 
in  which  each  Psalm  was  sung  and  written, 
we  become  like  their  authors  and  anticipate 
the  meaning  rather  than  follow  it,  i.e.,  gather- 
ing the  force  of  the  words  before  we  really 
know  them,  we  remember  what  has  happened 
to  us,  and  what  is  happening  in  daily  assaults 
when  the  thoughts  of  them  come  over  us,  and 
while  we  sine  them  we  call  to  mind  all   that 


1  Ps.  ciii.  (civ.)  18. 


"-  Prov.  xxx.  26  (LXX.). 


our  carelessness  has  brought  upon  us,  or  our 
earnestness  has  secured,  or  Divine  Providence 
has  granted  or  the  promptings  of  the  foe  have 
deprived  us  of,  or  slippery  and  subtle  forget- 
fulness  has  carried  off,  or  human  weakness 
has  brought  about,  or  thoughtless  ignorance 
has  cheated  us  of.  For  all  these  feelings  we 
find  expressed  in  the  Psalms  so  that  by  seeing 
whatever  happens  as  in  a  very  clear  mirror  we 
understand  it  better,  and  so  instructed  by  our 
feelings  as  our  teachers  we  lay  hold  of  it  as 
something  not  merely  heard  but  actually  seen, 
and,  as  if  it  were  not  committed  to  memory, 
but  implanted  in  the  very  nature  of  things, 
we  are  affected  from  the  very  bottom  of  the 
heart,  so  that  we  get  at  its  meaning  not  by 
reading  the  text  but  by  experience  anticipating 
it.  And  so  our  mind  will  reach  that  incorrupt- 
ible prayer  to  which  in  our  former  treatise,  as 
the  Lord  vouchsafed  to  grant,  the  scheme  of 
our  Conference  mounted,  and  this  is  not  merely 
not  engaged  in  gazing  on  any  image,  but  is 
actually  distinguished  by  the  use  of  no  words 
or  utterances ;  but  with  the  purpose  of  the  mind 
all  on  fire,  is  produced  through  ecstasy  of 
heart  by  some  unaccountable  keenness  of  spirit, 
and  the  mind  being  thus  affected  without  the 
aid  of  the  senses  or  any  visible  material  pours 
it  forth  to  God  with  groanings  and  sighs  that 
cannot  be  uttered. 

CHAPTER   XII. 

A  question  as  to  how  spiritual  thoughts  can  be  retained  without 
losing  them. 

Germanus  :  We  think  that  you  have  de- 
scribed to  us  not  only  the  system  of  this  spiritual 
discipline  for  which  we  asked,  but  perfection 
itself  ;  and  this  with  great  clearness  and  open- 
ness. For  what  can  be  more  perfect  and  sub- 
lime than  for  the  recollection  of  God  to  be 
embraced  in  so  brief  a  meditation,  and  for  it, 
dwelling  on  a  single  verse,  to  escape  from  all 
the  limitations  of  things  visible,  and  to  com- 
prise in  one  short  word  the  thoughts  of  all  our 
prayers.  And  therefore  we  beg  you  to  explain 
to  us  one  thing  which  still  remains  ;  viz.,  how 
we  can  keep  firm  hold  of  this  verse  which  you 
have  given  us  as  a  formula,  in  such  a  way  that, 
as  we  have  been  by  God's  grace  set  free  from 
the  trifles  of  worldly  thoughts,  so  we  may  also 
keep  a  steady  grasp  on  all  spiritual  ones. 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

On  the  lightness  of  thoughts. 

For  when  the  mind  has  taken  in  the  meaning 
of  a  passage  in  any  Psalm,  this  insensibly  slips 


THE    SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    ISAAC. 


409 


away  from  it,  and  ignorantly  and  thoughtlessly 
it  passes  on  to  a  text  of  some  other  Scripture. 
And  when  it  has  begun  to  consider  this  with 
itself,  while  it  is  still  not  thoroughly  explored, 
the  recollection  of  some  other  passage  springs 
up,  and  shuts  out  the  consideration  of  the  for- 
mer subject.  From  this  too  it  is  transferred 
to  some  other,  by  the  entrance  of  some  fresh 
consideration,  and  the  soul  always  turns  about 
from  Psalm  to  Psalm  and  jumps  from  a  pas- 
sage in  the  Gospels  to  read  one  in  the  Epistles, 
and  from  this  passes  on  to  the  prophetic 
writings,  and  thence  is  carried  to  some  spiritual 
history,  and  so  it  wanders  about  vaguely  and 
uncertainly  through  the  whole  body  of  the 
Scriptures,  unable,  as  it  may  choose,  either  to 
reject  or  keep  hold  of  anything,  or  to  finish 
anything  by  fully  considering  and  examining 
it,  and  so  becomes  only  a  toucher  or  taster  of 
spiritual  meanings,  not  an  author  and  possessor 
of  them.  And  so  the  mind,  as  it  is  always 
light  and  wandering,  is  distracted  even  in  time 
of  service  by  all  sorts  of  things,  as  if  it  were 
intoxicated,  and  does  not  perform  any  office 
properly.  For  instance,  while  it  is  praying,  it 
is  recalling  some  Psalm  or  passage  of  Scrip- 
ture. While  it  is  chanting,  it  is  thinking  about 
something  else  besides  what  the  text  of  the 
Psalm  itself  contains.  When  it  repeats  a  pas- 
sage of  Scripture,  it  is  thinking  about  some- 
thing that  has  to  be  done,  or  remembering 
something  that  has  been  done.  And  in  this  way 
it  takes  in  and  rejects  nothing  in  a  disciplined 
and  proper  way,  and  seems  to  be  driven  about 
by  random  incursions,  without  the  power  either 
of  retaining  what  it  likes  or  lingering  over  it. 
It  is  then  well  for  us  before  everything  else 
to  know  how  we  can  properly  perform  these 
spiritual  offices,  and  keep  firm  hold  of  this  par- 
ticular verse  which  you  have  given  us  as  a  for- 
mula, so  that  the  rise  and  fall  of  our  feelings 
may  not  be  in  a  state  of  fluctuation  from  their 
own  lightness,  but  may  lie  under  our  own 
control. 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

The  answer  how  we  can  gain  stability  of  heart  or  of  thoughts. 

Isaac  :    Although,  in  our  former  discussion 
on  the   character  of  prayer,  enough  was,  as  I 


think,  said  on  this  subject,  yet  as  you  want  it 
repeated  to  you  again,  I  will  give  you  a  brief 
instruction  on  steadfastness  of  heart.  There 
are  three  things  which  make  a  shifting  heart 
steadfast,  watchings,  meditation,  and  prayer, 
diligence  in  which  and  constant  attention  will 
produce  steadfast  firmness  of  mind.  But  this 
cannot  be  secured  in  any  other  way  unless  all 
cares  and  anxieties  of  this  present  life  have 
been  first  got  rid  of  by  indefatigable  persist- 
ence in  work  dedicated  not  to  covetousness  but 
to  the  sacred  uses  of  the  monastery,  that  we 
may  thus  be  able  to  fulfil  the  Apostle's  com- 
mand :  "  Pray  without  ceasing." 1  For  he  prays 
too  little,  who  is  accustomed  only  to  pray  at  the 
times  when  he  bends  his  knees.  But  he  never 
prays,  who  even  while  on  his  bended  knees 
is  distracted  by  all  kinds  of  wanderings  of 
heart.  And  therefore  what  we  would  be  found 
when  at  our  prayers,  that  we  ought  to  be  before 
the  time  of  prayer.  For  at  the  time  of  its 
prayers  the  mind  cannot  help  being  affected  by 
its  previous  condition,  and  while  it  is  praying, 
will  be  either  transported  to  things  heavenly, 
or  dragged  down  to  earthly  things  by  those 
thoughts  in  which  it  had  been  lingering  before 
prayer. 

Thus  far  did  Abbot  Isaac  carry  on  his  Se- 
cond Conference  on  the  character  of  Prayer  to 
us  astonished  hearers ;  whose  instruction  on 
the  consideration  of  that  verse  quoted  above 
(which  he  gave  as  a  sort  of  outline  for  begin- 
ners to  hold)  we  greatly  admired,  and  wished 
to  follow  very  closely,  as  we  fancied  that  it 
would  be  a  short  and  easy  method  ;  but  we 
have  found  it  even  harder  to  observe  than  that 
system  of  ours  by  which  we  used  formerly  to 
wander  here  and  there  in  varied  meditations 
through  the  whole  body  of  the  Scriptures  with- 
out being  tied  by  any  chains  of  perseverance. 
It  is  then  certain  that  no  one  is  kept  away  from 
perfection  of  heart  by  not  being  able  to  read, 
nor  is  rustic  simplicity  any  hindrance  to  the 
possession  of  purity  of  heart  and  mind,  which 
lies  close  at  hand  for  all,  if  only  they  will  by 
constant  meditation  on  this  verse  keep  the 
thoughts  of  the  mind  safe  and  sound  towards 
God. 


1  1  Thess.  v.  17, 


THE   SECOND    PART   OF   THE    CONFERENCES 
OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


PR  EFACE. 


Although  many  of  the  saints  who  are  taught  by  your  example  can  scarcely  emulate  the  great- 
ness of  your  perfection,  with  which  you  shine  like  great  luminaries  with  marvellous  brightness 
in  this  world,  yet  still  you,  O  holy  brothers  Honoratus  and  Eucherius,1  are  so  stirred  by  the 
great  glory  of  those  splendid  men  from  whom  we  received  the  first  principles  of  monasticism, 
that  one  of  you,  presiding  as  he  does  over  a  large  monastery  of  the  brethren,  is  hoping  that 
his  congregation,  which  learns  a  lesson  from  the  daily  sight  of  your  saintly  life,  may  be 
instructed  in  the  precepts  of  those  fathers,  while  the  other  has  been  anxious  to  make  his  way 
to  Egypt  to  be  edified  by  the  sight  of  these  in  the  flesh,  that  he  might  leave  this  province 
that  is  frozen  as  it  were  with  the  cold  of  Gaul,  and  like  some  pure  turtle  dove  fly  to  those 
lands  on  which  the  sun  of  righteousness  looks  and  to  which  it  approaches  nearest,  and  which 
abound  with  the  ripe  fruits  of  virtues.  As  a  matter  of  course  the  greatness  of  my  love  wrings 
this  from  me  ;  viz.,  that  considering  the  desire  of  the  one  and  the  labour  of  the  other,  I  should 
not  decline  the  danger  and  peril  of  writing,  if  only  to  the  one  there  may  be  added  authority 
among  his  children,  and  from  the  other  may  be  removed  the  necessity  for  so  risky  a  journey. 
Further  since  neither  the  Institutes  of  the  ccenobia  which  we  wrote  to  the  best  of  our  ability 
in  twelve  books  for  Bishop  Castor  of  blessed  memory,  nor  the  ten  Conferences  of  the  fathers 
living  in  the  desert  of  Scete,  which  we  composed  somehow  or  other  at  the  bidding  of  Saints 
Helladius  and  Leontius  the  Bishops,2  were  able  to  satisfy  your  faith  and  zeal,  now  in  order 
that  the  reason  for  our  journey  may  be  also  known,  I  have  thought  that  seven  Conferences  of 
the  three  fathers  whom  we  first  saw  living  in  another  desert,  might  be  written  in  the  same 
style  and  dedicated  to  you,  in  which  whatever  has  been  in  our  previous  works  perhaps 
obscurely  explained  or  even  omitted  on  the  subject  of  perfection,  may  be  supplied.  But  if 
even  this  is  not  enough  to  satisfy  the  holy  thirst  of  your  desires,  seven  other  Conferences, 
which  are  to  be  sent  to  the  holy  brethren  living  in  the  islands  of  the  Stoechades,3  will,  I  fancy, 
satisfy  your  wants  and  your  ardour. 

1  On  Honoratus  and  Eucherius,  see  the  Introduction,  p.  189.  2  Cf  The  Preface  to  Conference  I. 

3  A  group  of  islands  off  the  coast  of  France  opposite  Marseilles;  mentioned  by   Pliny,  H.  N.  III.  V.,  now  known  as  Les  Isles d' 'Hieres. 


THE   SECOND   PART   OF  THE    CONFERENCES 
OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


XI. 


THE   FIRST   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT  CH^REMON. 


ON  PERFECTION. 


CHAPTER    I. 


Description  of  the  town  of  Thennesus. 

When  we  were  living  in  a  monastery  in 
Syria  after  our  first  infancy  in  the  faith,  and 
when  after  we  had  grown  somewhat  we  had 
begun  to  long  for  some  greater  grace  of  per- 
fection, we  determined  straightway  to  seek 
Egypt  and  penetrating  even  to  the  remotest 
desert  of  the  Thebaid,1  to  visit  very  many  of 
the  saints,  whose  glory  and  fame  had  spread 
abroad  everywhere,  with  the  wish  if  not  to 
emulate  them  at  any  rate  to  know  them.  And 
so  we  came  by  a  very  lengthy  voyage  to  a 
town  of  Egypt  named  Thennesus,2  whose  in- 
habitants are  so  surrounded  either  by  the  sea 
or  by  salt  lakes  that  they  devote  themselves 
to  business  alone  and  get  their  wealth  and 
substance  by  naval  commerce  as  the  land  fails 
them,  so  that  indeed  when  they  want  to  build 
houses,  there  is  no  soil  sufficient  for  this,  unless 
it  is  brought  by  boat  from  a  distance. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Of  Bishop  Archebius. 

And  when  we  arrived  there,  God  gratified 
our  wishes,  and  had  brought  about  the  arrival 
of  that  most  blessed  and  excellent  man  Bishop 


1  It  is  very  doubtful  whether  Cassian  ever  carried  out  the  inten- 
tion, of  which  he  here  speaks,  of  visiting  the  Thebaid.  So  far  as 
we  can  trace  the  course  of  his  wanderings,  he  does  not  seem  to  have 
penetrated  farther  into  Egypt  than  the  desert  of  Scete. 

2  Thennesus,  a  town  at  the  Tanitic  mouth  of  the  Nile  near  Lake 
Menzaleh.  For  the  description  of  the  neighbouring  country  com- 
pare Conference  VII.  c.  xxvi. 


Archbius,3  who  had  been  carried  off  from  the* 
assembly  of  anchorites  and  given  as  Bishop 
to  the  town  of  Panephysis,4  and  who  kept  all 
his  life  long  to  his  purpose  of  solitude  with 
such  strictness  that  he  relaxed  nothing  of  the 
character  of  his  former  humility,  nor  flattered 
himself  on  the  honour  that  had  been  added  to 
him  (  for  he  vowed  that  he  had  not  been  sum- 
moned to  that  office  as  fit  for  it,  but  complained 
that  he  had  been  expelled  from  the  monastic 
system  as  unworthy  of  it  because  though  he 
had  spent  thirty-seven  years  in  it  he  had  never 
been  able  to  arrive  at  the  purity  so  high  a  pro- 
fession demands) ;  he  then  when  he  had  re- 
ceived us  kindly  and  most  graciously  in  the 
aforesaid  Thennesus  whither  the  business  of 
electing  a  Bishop  there  had  brought  him,  as 
soon  as  he  heard  of  our  wish  and  desire  to 
inquire  of  the  holy  fathers  even  in  still  more 
remote  parts  of  Egypt :  "  Come,"  said  he,  "  see 
in  the  meanwhile  the  old  men  who  live  not  far 
from  our  monastery,  the  length  of  whose  ser- 
vice is  shown  by  their  bent  bodies,  as  their 
holiness  shines  forth  in  their  appearance,  so 
that  even  the  mere  sight  of  them  will  give  a 
great  lesson  to  those  who  see  them :  and  from 
them  you  can  learn  not  so  much  by  their 
words  as  by  the  actual  example  of  their  holy 
life,  what  I  grieve  that  I  have  lost,  and  having 
lost  cannot  give  to  you.  But  I  think  that  my 
poverty  will  be  somewhat  lessened  by  this  zeal 
of  mine,  if  when  you  are  seeking  that  pearl  of 
the  Gospel  which  I  have  not,  I  at  least  provide 
where  you  can  conveniently  procure  it.' 

3  Archebius  has  already  been  mentioned  in  Conference  VII.  xxvi. ; 
and  in  the  Institutes  V.  xxxvii.,  xxxviii.,  two  stories  are  told  illustra- 
tive of  his  kindness  and  goodness  of  disposition  ;  but  he  is  not 
known  to  us  from  any  other  source  except  Caspian's  writings. 

4  For  the  situation  of  Panephysis,  see  the  note  on  the  Institutes, 
Book  IV.  c.  xxx. 


415 


416 


CASSIAN'S   CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Description  of  the  desert  where  Chaeremon,  Nesteros,  and 
Joseph  lived. 

And  so  he  took  his  staff  and  scrip,  as  is 
there  the  custom  for  all  monks  starting  on  a 
journey,  and  himself  led  us  as  guide  of  our 
road  to  his  own  city,  i.e.,  Panephysis,  the  lands 
of  which  and  indeed  the  greater  part  of  the 
neighbouring  region  (formerly  an  extremely 
rich  one  since  from  it,  as  report  says,  every- 
thing was  supplied  for  the  royal  table),  had 
been  covered  by  the  sea  which  was  disturbed 
by  a  sudden  earthquake  and  overflowed  its 
banks,  and  so  (almost  all  the  villages  being  in 
ruins)  covered  what  were  formerly  rich  lands 
with  salt  marshes,  so  that  you  might  think  that 
what  is  spiritually  sung  in  the  psalm  was  a 
literal  prophecy  of  that  region.  "  He  hath 
turned  rivers  into  a  wilderness  ;  and  the  springs 
of  waters  into  a  thirsty  land  :  a  fruitful  land 
into  saltness  for  the  wickedness  of  them  that 
dwell  therein."  1  Tn  these  districts  then  many 
towns  perched  in  this  way  on  the  higher  hills 
were  deserted  by  their  inhabitants  and  turned 
by  the  inundation  into  islands,  and  these 
afforded  the  desired  solitude  to  the  holy  an- 
chorites, among  whom  three  old  men;  viz., 
Chaeremon,  Nesteros  and  Joseph,  stood  out 
as  anchorites  of  the  longest  standing;. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Of  Abbot  Chaeremon  and  his  excuse  about  the  teaching  which 
we  asked  for. 

And  so  the  blessed  Archebius  thought  it  best 
to  take  us  first  to  Chaeremon,2  because  he  was 
nearer  to  his  monastery,  and  because  he  was 
more  advanced  than  the  other  two  in  age  :  for 
he  had  passed  the  hundredth  year  of  his  life, 
vigorous  only  in  spirit,  but  with  his  back 
bowed  with  age  and  constant  prayer,  so  that, 
as  if  he  were  once  more  in  his  childhood  he 
crawled  with  his  hands  hanging  down  and  rest- 
ing on  the  ground.  Gazing  then  at  one  and 
the  same  time  on  this  man's  wonderful  face 
and  on  his  walk  (for  though  all  his  limbs  had 
already  failed  and  were  dead  yet  he  had  lost 
none  of  the  severity  of  his  previous  strictness) 
when  we  humbly  asked  for  the  word  and  doc- 
trine, and  declared  that  longing  for  spiritual 
instruction  was  the  only  reason  for  our  coming, 
he  sighed  deeply  and  said :  What  doctrine  can 
I  teach  you,  I  in  whom  the  feebleness  of  age 
has  relaxed  my  former  strictness,  as  it  has  also 

1  Ps.  cvi.  (cvii.)  33  sg. 

2  Chasremon  is  perhaps  the  same  person  of  ivlmm  a  short  account 
is  given  in  the  Lausiac  History  of  Paliadius,  c.  xcii. 


destroyed  my  confidence  in  speaking  ?  For 
how  could  I  presume  to  teach  what  I  do  not 
do,  or  instruct  another  in  what  I  know  I  now 
practise  but  feebly  and  coldly  ?  Wherefore  I 
do  not  allow  any  of  the  younger  men  to  live 
with  me  now  that  I  am  of  such  an  advanced 
age,  lest  the  other's  strictness  should  be  re- 
laxed owing  to  my  example.  For  the  author- 
ity of  a  teacher  will  never  be  strong  unless  he 
fixes  it  in  the  heart  of  his  hearer  by  the  actual 
performance  of  his  duty. 


CHAPTER   V. 

Of  our  answer  to  his  excuse. 

At  this  we  were  overwhelmed  with  no  slight 
confusion  and  replied  as  follows  :  Although 
both  the  difficulty  of  the  place  and  the  solitary 
life  itself,  which  even  a  robust  youth  could 
scarcely  put  up  with,  ought  to  be  sufficient  to 
teach  us  everything  (and  indeed  without  your 
saying  anything  they  do  teach  and  impress  us 
a  very  great  deal)  yet  still  we  ask  you  to  lay 
aside  your  silence  for  a  little  and  in  a  more 
worthy  manner  implant  in  us  those  principles 
by  which  we  may  be  able  to  embrace,  not  so 
much  by  imitating  it  as  by  admiring  it,  that 
goodness  which  we  see  in  you.  For  even  if 
our  coldness  is  known  to  you,  and  does  not 
deserve  to  obtain  what  we  are  asking  for,  yet 
at  least  the  trouble  of  so  long  a  journey  ought 
to  be  repaid  by  it,  as  we  made  haste  to  come 
here  after  our  first  beginning  in  the  monastery 
of  Bethlehem,  owing  to  a  longing  for  your  in- 
struction, and  a  yearning  for  our  own  good. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Abbot  Chaeremon's  statement  that  faults  can  be  overcome  in 
three  ways. 

Then  the  blessed  Ch^remon:  There  are, 
said  he,  three  things  which  enable  men  to 
control  their  faults  ;  viz.,  either  the  fear  of  hell 
or  of  laws  even  now  imposed ;  or  the  hope  and 
desire  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  or  a  liking 
for  goodness  itself  and  the  love  of  virtue. 
For  then  we  read  that  the  fear  of  evil  loathes 
contamination  :  "  The  fear  of  the  Lord  hateth 
evil."  3  Hope  also  shuts  out  the  assaults  of  all 
faults  :  for  "  all  who  hope  in  Him  shall  not 
fail."  *  Love  also  fears  no  destruction  from 
sins,  for  "love  never  faileth  ;  "  5  and  again: 
"  love  covers  a  multitude  of  sins."  6  And  there- 
fore the  blessed  Apostle  confines  the  whole 


3  Prov.  viii.  13. 

4  Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)23. 


5  1  Cor.  xiii.  8. 
B  1  Pet.  iv.  8. 


THE   FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    CH/EREMON. 


417 


sum  of  salvation  in  the  attainment  of  those 
three  virtues,  saying  "  Now  abideth  faith,  hope, 
love,  these  three."  x  For  faith  is  what  makes 
us  shun  the  stains  of  sin  from  fear  of  future 
judgment  and  punishment ;  hope  is  what  with- 
draws our  mind  from  present  things,  and 
despises  all  bodily  pleasures  from  its  expecta- 
tion of  heavenly  rewards  ;  love  is  what  in- 
flames us  with  keenness  of  heart  for  the  love  of 
Christ  and  the  fruit  of  spiritual  goodness,  and 
makes  us  hate  with  a  perfect  hatred  whatever 
is  opposed  to  these.  And  these  three  things 
although  they  all  seem  to  aim  at  one  and  the 
same  end  (for  they  incite  us  to  abstain  from 
things  unlawful)  yet  they  differ  from  each 
other  greatly  in  the  degrees  of  their  excellence. 
For  the  two  former  belong  properly  to  those 
men  who  in  their  aim  at  goodness  have  not 
yet  acquired  the  love  of  virtue,  and  the  third 
belongs  specially  to  God  and  to  those  who 
have  received  into  themselves  the  image  and 
likeness  of  God.  For  He  alone  does  the 
things  that  are  good,  with  no  fear  and  no 
thanks  or  reward  to  stir  Him  up,  but  simply 
from  the  love  of  goodness.  For,  as  Solomon 
says,  "The  Lord  hath  made  all  things  for  Him- 
self." 2  For  under  cover  of  His  own  goodness 
He  bestows  all  the  fulness  of  good  things  on 
the  worthy  and  the  unworthy  because  He  can- 
not be  wearied  by  wrongs,  nor  be  moved  by 
passions  at  the  sins  of  men,  as  He  ever  remains 
perfect  goodness  and  unchangeable  in  His 
nature. 

CHAPTER    VII. 

By  what  steps  we  can  ascend  to  the  heights  of  love  and  what 
permanence  there  is  in  it. 

If  then  anyone  is  aiming  at  perfection,  from 
that  first  stage  of  fear  which  we  rightly  termed 
servile  (of  which  it  is  said :  "  When  ye  have 
done  all  things  say :  we  are  unprofitable  ser- 
vants," 3)  he  should  by  advancing  a  step  mount 
to  the  higher  path  of  hope  —  which  is  com- 
pared not  to  a  slave  but  to  a  hireling,  because 
it  looks  for  the  payment  of  its  recompense, 
and  as  if  it  were  free  from  care  concerning 
absolution  of  its  sins  and  fear  of  punishment, 
and  conscious  of  its  own  good  works,  though 
it  seems  to  look  for  the  promised  reward,  yet  it 
cannot  attain  to  that  love  of  a  son  who,  trust- 
ing in  his  father's  kindness  and  liberality,  has 
no  doubt  that  all  that  the  father  has  is  his,  to 
which  also  that  prodigal  who  together  with 
his  father's  substance  had  lost  the  very  name 
of  son,  did  not  venture  to  aspire,  when  he 
said  :   "  I  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy 


son  ;  "  for  after  those  husks  which  the  swine 
ate,  satisfaction  from  which  was  denied  to  him, 
i.  e.,  the  disgusting  food  of  sin,  as  he  "came  to 
himself,"  and  was  overcome  by  a  salutary  fear, 
he  already  began  to  loathe  the  uncleanness  of 
the  swine,  and  to  dread  the  punishment  of 
gnawing  hunger,  and  as  if  he  had  already  been 
made  a  servant,  desires  the  condition  of  a  hire- 
ling and  thinks  about  the  remuneration,  and 
says :  "  How  many  hired  servants  of  my  father 
have  abundance  of  bread,  and  I  perish  here  with 
hunger.  I  will  then  return  to  my  father  and 
will  say  unto  him, '  Father  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven  and  before  thee,  and  am  no  more  worthy 
to  be  called  thy  son  :  make  me  as  one  of 
thy  hired  servants.' " 4  But  those  words  of 
humble  penitence  his  father  who  ran  to  meet 
him  received  with  greater  affection  than  that 
with  which  they  were  spoken,  and  was  not  con- 
tent to  allow  him  lesser  things,  but  passing 
through  the  two  stages  without  delay  restored 
him  to  his  former  dignity  of  sonship.  We  also 
ought  forthwith  to  hasten  on  that  by  means  of 
the  indissoluble  grace  of  love  we  may  mount 
to  that  third  stage  of  sonship,  which  believes 
that  all  that  the  father  has  is  its  own,  and  so 
we  may  be  counted  worthy  to  receive  the 
image  and  likeness  of  our  heavenly  Father, 
and  be  able  to  say  after  the  likeness  of  the 
true  son  :  "All  that  the  Father  hath  is  mine."  5 
Which  also  the  blessed  Apostle  declares  of  us, 
saying  :  "  All  things  are  yours,  whether  Paul 
or  Apollos  or  Cephas,  or  the  world,  or  life,  or 
death,  or  things  present,  or  things  to  come  ;  all 
are  yours."  G  And  to  this  likeness  the  com- 
mands of  our  Saviour  also  summon  us :  "  Be 
ye."  says  He,  "perfect,  even  as  your  Father 
in  heaven  is  perfect."7  For  in  these  persons 
sometimes  the  love  of  goodness  is  found  to  be 
interrupted,  when  the  vigour  of  the  soul  is 
relaxed  by  some  coldness  or  joy  or  delight, 
and  so  loses  either  the  fear  of  hell  for  the 
time,  or  the  desire  of  future  blessings.  And . 
there  is  indeed  in  these  a  stage  leading  to 
some  advance,  which  affects  us  so  that  when 
from  fear  of  punishment  or  from  hope  of  re- 
ward we  begin  to  avoid  sin  we  are  enabled  to 
pass  on  to  the  stage  of  love,  for  "fear,"  says 
one,  "  is  not  in  love,  but  perfect  love  casteth 
out  fear  :  for  fear  hath  torment,  but  he  who 
fears  is  not  perfect  in  love.  We  therefore  love 
because  God  first  loved  us."  8  We  can  then 
only  ascend  to  that  true  perfection  when,  as 
He  first  loved  us  for  the  grace  of  nothing 
but  our  salvation,  we  also  have  loved  Him  for 
the  sake  of  nothing  but  His  own  love  alone. 
Wherefore  we  must  do  our  best  to  mount  with 


1  Cor.   xiii.  13. 


2  Prov.  xvi.  4. 


3  S.  Luke  xvii.  10. 


4  S.  Luke  xv.  17- 
0  S.  Joh.i  xvi.  15. 


0  1  Cor.  iii.  22. 
7  St.  Matt  v.  48. 


8  1  John  iv.  iS,  19. 


4i8 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


perfect  ardour  of  mind  from  this  fear  to  hope, 
from  hope  to  the  love  of  God,  and  the  love  of 
the  virtues  themselves,  that  as  we  steadily  pass 
on  to  the  love  of  goodness  itself,  we  may,  as 
far  as  it  is  possible  for  human  nature,  keep 
firm  hold  of  what  is  good. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

How  greatly  those   excel  who  depart  from  sin  through   the 
feeling  of  love. 

For  there  is  a  great  difference  between  one 
who  puts  out  the  fire  of  sin  within  him  by  fear 
of  hell  or  hope  of  future  reward,  and  one  who 
from  the  feeling  Of  divine  love  has  a  horror  of 
sin  itself  and  of  uncleanness,  and  keeps  hold 
of  the  virtue  of  purity  simply  from  the  love  and 
longing  for  purity,  and  looks  for  no  reward 
from  a  promise  for  the  future,  but,  delighted 
with  the  knowledge  of  good  things  present, 
does  everything  not  from  regard  to  punish- 
ment but  from  delight  in  virtue.  For  this 
condition  can  neither  abuse  an  opportunity  to 
sin  when  all  human  witnesses  are  absent,  nor 
be  corrupted  by  the  secret  allurements  of 
thoughts,  while,  keeping  in  its  very  marrow 
the  love  of  virtue  itself,  it  not  only  does  not 
admit  into  the  heart  anything  that  is  opposed 
to  it,  but  actually  hates  it  with  the  utmost 
horror.  For  it  is  one  thing  for  a  man  in 
his  delight  at  some  present  good  to  hate  the 
stains  of  sins  and  of  the  flesh,  and  another 
thing  to  check  unlawful  desires  by  contemplat- 
ing the  future  reward ;  and  it  is  one  thing  to 
fear  present  loss  and  another  to  dread  future 
punishment.  Lastly  it  is  a  much  greater  thing 
to  be  unwilling  to  forsake  good  for  good's  own 
sake,  than  it  is  to  withhold  consent  from  evil 
for  fear  of  evil.  For  in  the  former  case  the 
good  is  voluntary,  but  in  the  latter  it  is  con- 
strained and  as  it  were  violently  forced  out  of 
'  a  reluctant  party  either  by  fear  of  punishment 
or  by  greed  of  reward.  For  one  Avho  abstains 
from  the  allurements  of  sin  owing  to  fear, 
will  whenever  the  obstacle  of  fear  is  removed, 
once  more  return  to  what  he  loves  and  thus  will 
not  continually  acquire  any  stability  in  good, 
nor  will  he  ever  rest  free  from  attacks  because 
he  will  not  secure  the  sure  and  lasting  peace 
of  chastity.  For  where  there  is  the  disturb- 
ance of  warfare  there  cannot  help  being  the 
danger  of  wounds.  For  one  who  is  in  the 
midst  of  the  conflict,  even  though  he  is  a  war- 
rior and  by  fighting  bravely  inflicts  frequent 
and  deadly  wounds  on  his  foes,  must  still 
sometimes  be  pierced  by  the  point  of  the 
enemy's  sword.  But  one  who  has  defeated 
the  attack  of  sins  and  is  now  in  the  enjoyment 


of  the  security  of  peace,  and  has  passed  on 
to  the  love  of  virtue  itself,  will  keep  this  con- 
dition of  good  continually,  as  he  is  entirely 
wrapped  up  in  it,  because  he  believes  that 
nothing  can  be  worse  than  the  loss  of  his  in- 
most chastity.  For  he  deems  nothing  dearer 
or  more  precious  than  present  purity,  to  whom 
a  dangerous  departure  from  virtue  or  a  poison- 
ous stain  of  sin  is  a  grievous  punishment.  To 
such  an  one,  I  say,  neither  will  regard  for  the 
presence  of  another  add  anything  to  his  good- 
ness nor  will  solitude  take  anything  away 
from  it  :  but  as  always  and  everywhere  he  bears 
about  with  him  his  conscience  as  a  judge 
not  only  of  his  actions  but  also  of  his  thoughts, 
he  will  especially  try  to  please  it,  as  he  knows 
that  it  cannot  be  cheated  nor  deceived,  and 
that  he  cannot  escape  it. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

That  love  not  only  makes  sons  out  of  servants,  but  also  bestows 
the  image  and  likeness  of  God. 

And  if  to  anyone  relying  on  the  help  of  God 
and  not  on  his  own  efforts,  it  has  been  vouch- 
safed to  acquire  this  state,  from  the  condition 
of  a  servant,  wherein  is  fear,  and  from  a  mer- 

I  cenary  greed  of  hope,  whereby  there  is  sought 
not  so  much  the  good  of  the  donor  as  the  re- 
compense  of  reward,  he  will  begin  to  pass  on  to 
the  adoption  of  sons,  where  there  is  no  longer 

'  fear,  nor  greed,  but  that  love  which  never  fail- 
eth  continually  endures.  Of  which  fear  and 
love  the   Lord    in    chiding  some  shows   what 

'  is  befitting  for  each  one  :  "  A  son  knoweth  his 
own  father,  and  a  servant  feareth  his  lord :  And 
if  I  be  a  Father,  where  is  My  honour  :  and  if  I 
be  a  Lord,  where  is  my  fear  ?  "  l  For  one  who 
is  a  servant  must  needs  fear  because  "if  know- 
ing his  lord's  will  he  has  done  things  worthy  of 
stripes,  he  shall  be  beaten  with  many  stripes."  2 
Whoever  then  by  this  love  has  attained  the 
image  and  likeness  of  God,  will  now  delight  in 

'  goodness  for  the  pleasure  of  goodness  itself, 
and  having  somehow  a  like  feeling  of  patience 
and  gentleness  will  henceforth  be  angered  by 
no  faults  of  sinners,  but  in  his  compassion  and 
sympathy  will  rather  ask  for  pardon  for  their 
infirmities,  and.  remembering  that  for  so  long  he 
himself  was  tried  by  the  stings  of  similar  pas- 
sions till  by  the  Lord's  mercy  he  was  saved, 
will  feel  that,  as  he  was  saved  from  carnal 
attacks  not  by  the  teaching  of  his  own  exer- 
tions but  by  God's  protection,  not  anger  but 
pity  ought  to  be  shown  to  those  who  go  astray ; 
and  with  full  peace  of  mind  will  he  sing  to  God 


i  Mai  i.  6. 


S.  Luke  xii.  47. 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    CH.EREMON. 


419 


the  following  verse  :  "  Thou  hast  broken  my 
chains.  I  will  offer  to  Thee  the  sacrifice  of 
praise ; "  and :  "  except  the  Lord  had  helped  me, 
my  soul  had  almost  dwelt  in  hell."  x  And  while 
he  continues  in  this  humility  of  mind  he  will  be 
able  even  to  fulfil  this  Evangelic  command  of 
perfection  :  "  Love  your  enemies,  do  good  to 
them  that  hate  you,  and  pray  for  them  that 
persecute  you  and  slander  you."  2  And  so  it 
will  be  vouchsafed  to  us  to  attain  that  reward 
which  is  subjoined,  whereby  we  shall  not  only 
bear  the  image  and  likeness  of  God,  but  shall 
even  be  called  sons :  "  that  ye  may  be,"  says 
He,  "  sons  of  your  Father  which  is  in  heaven, 
Who  maketh  His  sun  to  rise  on  the  good  and 
evil,  and  sends  rain  on  the  just  and  on  the  un- 
just :  "  3  and  this  feeling  the  blessed  John  knew 
that  he  had  attained  when  he  said :  "  that  we 
may  have  confidence  in  the  day  of  judgment, 
because  as  He  is  so  are  we  also  in  this  world."  4 
For  in  what  can  a  weak  and  fragile  human 
nature  be  like  Him,  except  in  always  showing 
a  calm  love  in  its  heart  towards  the  good  and 
evil,  the  just  and  the  unjust,  in  imitation  of 
God,  and  by  doing  good  for  the  love  of  good- 
ness itself,  arriving  at  that  true  adoption  of  the 
sons  of  God,  of  which  also  the  blessed  Apostle 
speaks  as  follows :  "  Every  one  that  is  born  of 
God  doeth  not  sin,  for  His  seed  is  in  him,  and 
he  cannot  sin,  because  he  is  born  of  God;  "  and 
again :  "  We  know  that  every  one  who  is  born 
of  God  sinneth  not,  but  his  birth  oi  God  pre- 
serves him,  and  the  wicked  one  toucheth  him 
not  ?  "  5  And  this  must  be  understood  not  of 
all  kinds  of  sins,  but  only  of  mortal  sins  :  and 
if  any  one  will  not  extricate  and  cleanse  him- 
self from  these,  for  him  the  aforesaid  Apostle 
tells  us  in  another  place  that  we  ought  not  even 
to  pray,  saying  :  "  If  a  man  knows  his  brother 
to  be  sinning  a  sin  not  unto  death,  let  him  ask, 
and  He  will  give  him  life  for  them  that  sin  not 
unto  death.  There  is  a  sin  unto  death  :  I  do 
not  say  that  he  should  ask  for  it."  6  But  of  those 
which  he  says  are  not  unto  death,  from  which 
even  those  who  serve  Christ  faithfully  can- 
not, with  whatever  care  they  keep  themselves, 
be  free,  of  these  he  says  :  "  If  we  say  that  we 
have  no  sin  we  deceive  ourselves  and  the  truth 
is  not  in  us  ;  "  and  again  :  "  If  we  say  that  we 
have  not  sinned,  we  make  Him  a  liar,  and  His 
word  is  not  in  us."  7  For  it  is  an  impossibility 
for  any  one  of  the  saints  not  to  fall  into  those 
trivial  faults  which  are  committed  by  word,  and 
thought,  and  ignorance,  and  forgetfulness,  and 
necessity,  and  will,  and  surprise  :  which  though 
quite  different  from  that  sin  which  is  said  to 


1  Ps.  cxv.  7,  8  (cxvi. 

2  S.  Matt.  v.  44. 

3  lb.  45- 


16,  17) ;  xciii.  (xciv.) 

4  1  John  iv.  17. 

5  1  John  iii.  9;  v.  1! 


lb.  ver.  16. 
1  John  i.  8,  10. 


be  unto  death,  still  cannot  be  free  from  fault 
and  blame. 

CHAPTER   X. 

How  it  is  the  perfection  of  love  to  pray  for  one's  enemies  and  by 
what  signs  we  may  recognize  a  mind  that  is  not  yet  purified. 

When  then  any  one  has  acquired  this  love  of 
goodness  of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  and 
the  imitation  of  God,  then  he  will  be  endowed 
with  the  Lord's  heart  of  compassion,  and  will 
pray  also  for  his  persecutors,  saying  in  like 
manner  :  "  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know 
not  what  they  do."  8  But  it  is  a  clear  sign  of  a 
soul  that  is  not  yet  thoroughly  purged  from  the 
dregs  of  sin,  not  to  sorrow  with  a  feeling  of  pity 
at  the  offences  of  others,  but  to  keep  to  the  rigid 
censure  of  the  judge  :  for  how  will  he  be  able 
to  obtain  perfection  of  heart,  who  is  without 
that  by  which,  as  the  Apostle  has  pointed  out, 
the  full  requirements  of  the  law  can  be  fulfilled, 
saying  :  "  Bear  one  another's  burdens  and  so 
fulfil  the  law  of  Christ,"  9  and  who  has  not  that 
virtue  of  love,  which  "  is  not  grieved,  is  not 
puffed  up,  thinketh  no  evil,"  which  "  endureth 
all  things,  beareth  all  things."  10  For  "  a  right- 
eous man  pitieth  the  life  of  his  beasts  :  but  the 
heart  of  the  ungodly  is  without  pity."  n  And  so 
a  monk  is  quite  certain  to  fall  into  the  same 
sins  which  he  condemns  in  another  with  merci- 
less and  inhuman  severity,  for  "  a  stern  king 
will  fall  into  misfortunes,"  and  "  one  who  stops 
his  ears  so  as  not  to  hear  the  weak,  shall  him- 
self cry,  and  there  shall  be  none  to  hear  him." 12 


CHAPTER   XL 

A  question  why  he  has  called  the  feeling  of  fear  and  hope 
imperfect. 

Germanus  :  You  have  indeed  spoken  power- 
fully and  grandly  of  the  perfect  love  of  God. 
But  still  this  fact  disturbs  us  ;  viz.,  that  while 
you  were  exalting  it  with  such  praise,  you  said 
that  the  fear  of  God  and  the  hope  of  eternal 
reward  were  imperfect,  though  the  prophet 
seems  to  have  thought  quite  differently  about 
them,  where  he  said :  "  Fear  the  Lord,  all  ye 
His  saints,  for  they  that  fear  Him  lack  no- 
thing." 13  And  again  in  the  matter  of  observing 
God's  righteous  acts  he  admits  that  he  has 
done  them  from  consideration  of  the  reward, 
saying :  "  I  have  inclined  my  heart  to  do  thy 
righteous  acts  forever,  for  the  reward,"14  And 
the  Apostle  says  :  "  By  faith  Moses  when  he 


34- 


8  S.  Luke  xxiii, 

9  Gal.  vi.  2. 
10  1  Cor.  xiii.  4-7. 

»  Prov.  xii.  10  (LXX.). 


12  Prov.  xiii.  17  ;  xxi.  13. 

13  Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)  10 

14  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  112. 


420 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


was  grown  up,  denied  himself  to  be  the  son  of 
Pharaoh's  daughter ;  choosing  rather  to  be 
afflicted  with  the  people  of  God  than  to  have 
the  pleasure  of  sin  for  a  season,  esteeming 
the  reproach  of  Christ  greater  riches  than  the 
treasure  of  the  Egyptians ;  for  he  looked  unto 
the  reward." :  How  then  can  we  think  that  they 
are  imperfect,  if  the  blessed  David  boasted 
that  he  did  the  righteous  acts  of  God  in  hope 
of  a  recompense,  and  the  giver  of  the  Law  is 
said  to  have  looked  for  a  future  reward  and  so 
to  have  despised  the  adoption  to  royal  dignity, 
and  to  have  preferred  the  most  terrible  afflic- 
tion to  the  treasures  of  the  Egyptians  ? 


CHAPTER   XII. 

The  answer  on  the  different  kinds  of  perfection. 

ChjEremon:  In  accordance  with  the  condi- 
tion and  measure  of  every  mind  Holy  Scrip- 
ture summons  our  free  wills  to  different  grades 
of  perfection.  For  no  uniform  crown  of  per- 
fection can  be  offered  to  all  men,  because  all 
have  not  the  same  virtue,  or  purpose,  or  fer- 
vour, and  so  the  Divine  Word  has  in  some  way 
appointed  different  ranks  and  different  mea- 
sures of  perfection  itself.  And  that  this  is  so 
the  variety  of  beatitudes  in  the  gospel  clearly 
shows.  For  though  they  are  called  blessed, 
whose  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  and  blessed 
are  they  who  shall  possess  the  earth,  and 
blessed  are  they  who  shall  receive  their  con- 
solation, and  blessed  are  they  who  shall  be 
filled,  yet  we  believe  that  there  is  a  great  dif- 
ference between  the  habitations  of  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  and  the  possession  of  the 
earth,  whatever  it  be,  and  also  between  the 
reception  of  consolation  and  the  fulness  and 
satisfaction  of  righteousness ;  and  that  there 
is  a  great  distinction  between  those  who  shall 
obtain  mercy,  and  those  who  shall  be  deemed 
worthy  to  enjoy  the  most  glorious  vision  of 
God.  "  For  there  is  one  glory  of  the  sun,  and 
another  glory  of  the  moon,  and  another  glory 
of  the  stars  :  for  star  differeth  from  star  in 
glory,  so  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead."3 
While  therefore  in  accordance  with  this  rule 
holy  Scripture  praises  those  who  fear  God,  and 
says  "  Blessed  are  all  they  that  fear  the  Lord,"3 
and  promises  them  for  this  a  full  measure  of 
bliss,  yet  it  says  again  :  "  There  is  no  fear  in 
love,  but  perfect  love  casteth  out  fear  :  for 
fear  hath  torment.  But  he  that  feareth  is  not 
yet  perfect  in  love."  4  And  again,  though  it  is 
a  grand  thing  to  serve  God,  and    it  is   said  : 


"  Serve  the  Lord  in  fear  ;  "  and  :  "  It  is  a  great 
thing  for  thee  to  be  called  My  servant ;  "  and: 
I  "  Blessed  is  that  servant  whom  his  Lord,  when 
He  cometh,  shall  find  so  doing,"  5  yet  it  is  said 
to  the  Apostles  :  "  I  no  longer  call  you  ser- 
vants, for  the  servant  knoweth  not  what  his 
Lord  doeth  :  but  I  call  you  friends,  for  all 
things  whatsoever  I  have  heard  from  my 
Father,  I  have  made  known  unto  you."  6  And 
once  more  :  "Ye  are  My  friends,  if  ye  do  what- 
ever I  command  you." 7  You  see  then  that 
there  are  different  stages  of  perfection,  and 
that  we  are  called  by  the  Lord  from  high  things 
to  still  higher  in  such  a  way  that  he  who  has 
become  blessed  and  perfect  in  the  fear  of  God, 
going  as  it  is  written  "from  strength  to  strength,"6 
and  from  one  perfection  to  another,  i.e.,  mount- 
ing with  keenness  of  soul  from  fear  to  hope, 
is  summoned  in  the  end  to  that  still  more 
blessed  stage,  which  is  love,  and  he  who  has 
been  "  a  faithful  and  wise  servant  "  9  will  pass 
to  the  companionship  of  friendship  and  to  the 
adoption  of  sons.  So  then  our  saying  also 
must  be  understood  according  to  this  mean- 
ing :  not  that  we  say  that  the  consideration  of 
that  enduring  punishment  or  of  that  blessed 
recompense  which  is  promised  to  the  saints  is 
of  no  value,  but  because,  though  they  are  use- 
ful and  introduce  those  who  pursue  them  to 
the  first  beginning  of  blessedness,  yet  again 
love,  wherein  is  already  fuller  confidence, 
and  a  lasting  joy,  will  remove  them  from 
servile  fear  and  mercenary  hope  to  the  love  of 
God,  and  carry  them  on  to  the  adoption  of 
sons,  and  somehow  make  them  from  being 
perfect  still  more  perfect.  For  the  Saviour 
says  that  in  His  Father's  house  are  "many 
mansions,"  10  and  although  all  the  stars  seem  to 
be  in  the  sky,  yet  there  is  a  mighty  difference 
between  the  brightness  of  the  sun  and  of  the 
moon,  and  between  that  of  the  morning  star 
and  the  rest  of  the  stars.  And  therefore  the 
blessed  Apostle  prefers  it  not  only  above  fear 
and  hope  but  also  above  all  gifts  which  are 
counted  great  and  wonderful,  and  shows  the 
way  of  love  still  more  excellent  than  all.  For 
when  after  finishing  his  list  of  spiritual  gifts 
of  virtues  he  wanted  to  describe  its  members, 
he  began  as  follows:  "And  yet  I  show  unto 
you  a  still  more  excellent  way.  Though  I 
speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  angels,  and 
though  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy  and  know 
all  mysteries  and  all  knowledge,  and  though 
I  have  all  faith  so  that  I  can  remove  moun- 
tains, and  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to 
feed  the  poor,  and  give  my  body  to  be  burned, 


1  Heb.  xi.  24-26. 

2  1  Cor.  xv.  41,  42. 


3  Ps.  cxxvii.  (cxxviii.)  1. 
*  1  John  iv.  18. 


Ps.  ii.  11  ;   Is.  xlix.  6;  S.  Matt.  xxiv.  46.    8  Ps.  lxxxiii.  (lxxxiv.) 
S.  John  xv.  14,  15.  n  S.  Matt.  xxiv.  45. 

S.  John  xv.  13.  10  S.  John  xiv.  2. 


THE    FIRST   CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    CHyEREMON. 


421 


but  have  not  love,  it  profiteth  me  nothing." 
You  see  then  that  nothing  more  precious,  noth- 
ing more  perfect,  nothing  more  sublime,  and, 
if  I  may  say  so,  nothing  more  enduring  can 
be  found  than  love.  For  "whether  there  be 
prophecies,  they  shall  fail,  whether  there  be 
tongues,  they  shall  cease,  whether  there 
be  knowledge,  it  shall  be  destroyed,"  but  "love 
never  faileth,"1  and  without  it  not  only  those 
most  excellent  kinds  of  gifts,  but  even  the 
glory  of  martyrdom  itself  will  fail. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

Of  the  fear  which  is  the  outcome  of  the  greatest  love. 

Whoever  then  has  been  established  in  this 
perfect  love  is  sure  to  mount  by  a  higher  stage 
to  that  still  more  sublime  fear  belonging  to 
love,  which  is  the  outcome  of  no  dread  of 
punishment  or  greed  of  reward,  but  of  the 
greatest  love  ;  whereby  a  son  fears  with  ear- 
nest affection  a  most  indulgent  father,  or  a 
brother  fears  his  brother,  a  friend  his  friend, 
or  a  wife  her  husband,  while  there  is  no  dread 
of  his  blows  or  reproaches,  but  only  of  a  slight 
injury  to  his  love,  and  while  in  every  word  as 
well  as  act  there  is  ever  care  taken  by  anxious 
affection  lest  the  warmth  of  his  love  should  j 
cool  in  the  very  slightest  degree  towards  the 
object  of  it.  And  one  of  the  prophets  has 
finely  described  the  grandeur  of  this  fear, 
saying  :  "  Wisdom  and  knowledge  ai'e  the 
riches  of  salvation  :  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  his 
treasure."  2  He  could  not  describe  with  greater 
clearness  the  worth  and  value  of  that  fear  than 
by  saying  that  the  riches  of  our  salvation, 
which  consist  in  true  wisdom  and  knowledge 
of  God,  can  only  be  preserved  by  the  fear  of 
the  Lord.  To  this  fear  then  not  sinners  but 
saints  are  invited  by  the  prophetic  word  where 
the  Psalmist  says  :  "  O  fear  the  Lord,  all  ye  His 
Saints :  for  they  that  fear  Him  lack  nothing."  3 
For  where  a  man  fears  the  Lord  with  this  fear, 
it  is  certain  that  nothing  is  lacking  to  his  per- 
fection. For  it  was  clearly  of  that  other  penal 
fear  that  the  Apostle  John  said  that  "  He  who 
feareth  is  not  made  perfect  in  love,  for  fear 
hath  punishment.''  4  There  is  then  a  great 
difference  between  this  fear,  to  which  nothing  is 
lacking,  which  is  the  treasure  of  wisdom  and 
knowledge,  and  that  imperfect  fear  which  is 
called  "the  beginning  of  wisdom,"  5  and  which 
has  in  it  punishment  and  so  is  expelled  from 
the  hearts  of  those  who  are  perfect  by  the  in- 
coming of  the  fulness  of  love.    For  "  there  is  no 


1  1  Cor.  xii.  31 ;  xiii.  1-8.  3  Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)  10.  °  Ps.  ex.  (cxi.)  10. 

2  Is.  xxxiii.  6.  4  1  John  iv.  18. 


fear  in  love,  but  perfect  love  casteth  out  fear."  ° 
And  in  truth  if  the  beginning  of  wisdom  con- 
sists in  fear,  what  will  its  perfection  be  except 
in  the  love  of  Christ  which,  as  it  contains  in 
it  the  fear  which  belongs  to  perfect  love,  is 
called  not  the  beginning  but  the  treasure  of 
wisdom  and  knowledge  ?  And  therefore  there 
is  a  twofold  stage  of  fear.  The  one  for  be- 
ginners, i.e.,  for  those  who  are  still  subject  to 
the  yoke  and  to  servile  terror ;  of  which  we 
read:  "And  the  servant  shall  fear  his  Lord  ;"7 
and  in  the  gospel :  "  I  no  longer  call  you  ser- 
vants, for  the  servant  knoweth  not  what  his 
Lord  doeth  ;  "  and  therefore  "  the  servant," 
He  tells  us,  "  abideth  not  in  the  house  for  ever, 
but  the  Son  abideth  for  ever."  8  For  He  is 
instructing  us  to  pass  on  from  that  penal  fear 
to  the  fullest  freedom  of  love,  and  the  con- 
fidence of  the  friends  and  sons  of  God.  Finally 
the  blessed  Apostle,  who  had  by  the  power 
of  the  Lord's  love  already  passed  through  the 
servile  stage  of  fear,  scorns  lower  things  and 
declares  that  he  has  been  enriched  with  good 
things  by  the  Lord,  "for  God  hath  not  given 
us,"  he  says,  "a  spirit  of  fear,  but  of  power  and 
of  love  and  of  a  sound  mind."9  Those  also 
who  are  inflamed  with  a  perfect  love  of  their 
heavenly  Father,  and  whom  the  Divine  adop- 
tion has  already  made  sons  instead  of  servants, 
he  addresses  in  these  words  :  "  For  ye  have  not 
received  the  spirit  of  bondage  again  to  fear,  but 
ye  received  the  spirit  of  adoption,  whereby  we 
cry,  Abba,  Father."  10  It  is  of  this  fear  too,  that 
the  prophet  spoke  when  he  would  describe  that 
sevenfold  spirit,  which  according  to  the  mys- 
tery of  the  Incarnation,  full  surely  descended 
on  the  God  man  :  u  "  And  there  shall  rest 
upon  Him  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  :  the  Spirit 
of  wisdom  and  of  understanding,  the  Spirit  of 
counsel  and  of  might,  the  Spirit  of  knowledge 
and  of  true  godliness,"  and  in  the  last  place 
he  adds  as  something  special  these  words  : 
"  And  the  Spirit  of  the  fear  of  the  Lord  shall 
fill  Him."  12  Where  we  must  in  the  first  place 
notice  carefully  that  he  does  not  say  "  and 
there  shall  rest  upon  Him  the  Spirit  of  fear,"  as 
he  said  in  the  earlier  cases,  but  he  says  "  there 
shall  fill  Him  the  Spirit  of  the  fear  of  the 
Lord."  For  such  is  the  greatness  of  its  rich- 
ness that  when  once  it  has  seized  on  a  man 
by  its  power,  it  'takes  possession  not  of  a 
portion  but  of  his  whole  mind.  And  not  with- 
out good  reason.  For  as  it  is  closely  joined 
to  that  love  which  "  never  faileth,"  it  not  only 
fills  the  man,  but  takes  a  lasting  and  inseparable 


6  1  John  iv.  18. 
'  Mai.  i.  6 1  (LXX.). 

10  Rom.  viii.  15. 

11  Homo  Dominicus. 

12  Is.  xi.  2,  3. 


8  S.  John  xv.  15;  viii.  35. 

9  2  Tim.  i.  7. 

See  the  note  on  Against  Nestorius,  V.  v. 


422 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


and  continual  possession  of  him  in  whom  it 
has  begun,  and  is  not  lessened  by  any  allure- 
ments of  temporal  joy  or  delights,  as  is  some- 
times the  case  with  that  fear  which  is  cast  out. 
This  then  is  the  fear  belonging  to  perfection, 
with  which  we  are  told  that  the  God-man,1  who 
came  not  only  to  redeem  mankind,  but  also  to 
give  us  a  pattern  of  perfection  and  example  of 
goodness,  was  filled.  For  the  true  Son  of  God 
"  who  did  no  sin  neither  was  guile  found  in  His 
mouth,"  2  could  not  feel  that  servile  fear  of 
punishment. 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

A  question  about  complete  chastity. 

Germanus  :  Now  that  you  have  finished 
your  discourse  on  perfect  chastity,  we  want 
also  to  ask  somewhat  more  freely  about  the 
end  of  chastity.  For  we  do  not  doubt  that 
those  lofty  heights  of  love,  by  which,  as  you 
have  hitherto  explained,  we  mount  to  the  im- 
age and  likeness  of  God,  cannot  possibly  exist 
without  perfect  purity.  But  we  should  like  to 
know  whether  a  lasting  grant  of  it  can  be  se- 
cured so  that  no  incitement  to  lust  may  ever 


disturb  the  serenity  of  our  heart,  and  that  thus 
we  may  be  enabled  to  pass  the  time  of  our 
so  journeying  in  the  flesh  free  from  this  carnal 
passion,  so  as  never  to  be  inflamed  by  the  fire 
of  excitement. 

CHAPTER   XV. 

The  postponement  of  the  explanation  which  is  asked  for. 

Ch/eremon  :  It  is  indeed  a  sign  of  the  utmost 
blessedness  and  of  singular  goodness  both  con- 
tinually to  learn  and  to  teach  that  love  by  which 
we  cling  to  the  Lord,  so  that  meditation  on 
Him  may,  as  the  Psalmist  says,  occupy  all  the 
days  and  nights  of  our  life,3  and  may  support 
our  soul,  which  insatiably  hungers  and  thirsts 
after  righteousness,  by  continually  chewing  the 
cud  of  this  heavenly  food.  But  we  must  also, 
in  accordance  with  the  kindly  forethought  of 
our  Saviour,  make  some  provision  for  the  food 
of  the  body,  that  we  faint  not  by  the  way,4  for 
"  the  spirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is 
weak."  5  And  this  we  must  now  secure  by  tak- 
ing a  little  food,  so  that  after  supper,  the  mind 
may  be  rendered  more  attentive  for  the  careful 
tracing  out  of  what  you  want. 


XII. 
THE  SECOND  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  CH/EREMON. 

ON  CHASTITY. 

Not  translated. 


XIII. 
THE  THIRD   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   CH/EREMON. 

ON  THE  PROTECTION  OF  GOD* 


CHAPTER   I. 

Introduction. 

When  after  a  short  sleep  we  returned  for 
morning  service  and  were  waiting  for  the  old 
man,  Abbot  Germanus  was  troubled  by  great 


1  Homo  Vominicus. 

2  i  Pet.  ii   22. 


3  Cf.  Ps.  i.  2.         5  S.  Matt.  xxvi.  41. 
*  Cf.  S.  Matt.   xv.  32. 


scruples  because  in  the  previous  discussion, 
the  force  of  which  had  inspired  us  with  the 
utmost  longing  for  this  chastity  which  was  till 
now  unknown  to  us,  the  blessed  old  man  had 
by  the  addition  of  a  single  sentence  broken 
down  the  claims  of  man's  exertions,  adding 
that  man  even  though  he  strive  with  all  his 


6  On  the  Semi-Pelagianism  of  this  Conference  and  the  erroneous 
passages  from  it  extracted  by  Prosper,  see  the  Introduction,  p.  190,  sg. 


THE  THIRD  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  CH^REMON. 


423 


might  for  a  good  result,  yet  cannot  become 
master  of  what  is  good  unless  he  has  acquired 
it  simply  by  the  gift  of  Divine  bounty  and  not 
by  the  efforts  of  his  own  toil.  While  then  we 
were  puzzling  over  this  question  the  blessed 
Chseremon  arrived  at  the  cell,  and  as  he  saw 
that  we  were  whispering  together  about  some- 
thing, he  cut  the  service  of  prayers  and  Psalms 
shorter  than  usual,  and  asked  us  what  was  the 
matter. 

CHAPTER   II. 

A  question  why  the  merit  of  good  deeds  may  not  be  ascribed 
to  the  exertions  of  the  man  who  does  them. 

Then  Germanus  :  As  we  are  almost  shut 
out,  so  to  speak,  by  the  greatness  of  that  splen- 
did virtue,  which  was  described  in  last  night's 
discussion,  from  believing  in  the  possibility  of 
it,  so,  if  you  will  pardon  my  saying  so,  it  seems 
to  us  absurd  for  the  reward  of  our  efforts,  i.e., 
perfect  chastity,  which  is  gained  by  the  earnest- 
ness of  one's  own  toil,  not  to  be  ascribed  chiefly 
to  the  exertions  of  the  man  who  makes  the 
effort.  For  it  is  foolish,  if,  when  for  example, 
we  see  a  husbandman  taking  the  utmost  pains 
over  the  cultivation  of  the  ground,  we  do  not 
ascribe  the  fruits  to  his  exertions. 


CHAPTER   III. 

The  answer  that  without  God's  help  not  only  perfect  chastity 
but  all  good  of  every  kind  cannot  be  performed. 

Ch^eremon  :  By  this  very  instance  which 
you  bring  forward  we  can  still  more  clearly 
prove  that  the  exertions  of  the  worker  can  do 
nothing  without '  God's  aid.  For  neither  can 
the  husbandman,  when  he  has  spent  the  ut- 
most pains  in  cultivating  the  ground,  forthwith 
ascribe  the  produce  of  the  crops  and  the  rich 
fruits  to  his  own  exertions,  as  he  finds  that 
these  are  often  in  vain  unless  opportune  rains 
and  a  quiet  and  calm  winter  aids  them,  so 
that  we  have  often  seen  fruits  already  ripe 
and  set  and  thoroughly  matured  snatched  as 
it  were  from  the  hands  of  those  who  were 
grasping  them ;  and  their  continuous  and 
earnest  efforts  were  of  no  use  to  the  workers 
because  they  were  not  under  the  guidance  of 
the  Lord's  assistance.  As  then  the  Divine 
goodness  does  not  grant  these  rich  crops  to 
idle  husbandmen  who  do  not  till  their  fields 
by  frequent  ploughing,  so  also  toil  all  night 
long  is  of  no  use  to  the  workers  unless  the 
mercy  of  the  Lord  prospers  it.  But  herein 
human  pride  should  never  try  to  put  itself  on 
a  level  with  the  grace  of  God  or  to  intermingle 


itself  with  it,  so  as  to  fancy  that  its  own  efforts 
were  the  cause  of  Divine  bounty,  or  to  boast 
that  a  very  plentiful  crop  of  fruits  was  an 
answer  to  the  merits  of  its  own  exertions. 
For  a  man  should  consider  and  with  a  most 
careful-  scrutiny  weigh  the  fact  that  he  could 
not  by  his  own  strength  apply  those  very 
efforts  which  he  has  earnestly  used  in  his 
desire  for*  wealth,  unless  the  Lord's  protection 
and  pity  had  given  him  strength  for  the  per- 
formance of  all  agricultural  labours  ;  and  that 
his  own  will  and  strength  would  have  been 
powerless  unless  Divine  compassion  had  sup- 
plied the  means  for  the  completion  of  them, 
as  they  sometimes  fail  either  from  too  much 
or  from  too  little  rain.  For  when  vigour  has 
been  granted  by  the  Lord  to  the  oxen,  and 
bodily  health  and  the  power  to  do  all  the 
work,  and  prosperity  in  undertakings,  still  a 
man  must  pray  lest  there  come  to  him,  as 
Scripture  says,  "  a  heaven  of  brass  and  an 
earth  of  iron,"  and  "  the  cankerworm  eat  what 
the  locust  hath  left,  and  the  palmerworm 
eat  what  the  cankerworm  hath  left,  and  the 
mildew  destroys  what  the  palmerworm  hath 
left."  1  Nor  is  it  only  in  this  that  the  efforts  of 
the  husbandman  in  his  work  need  God's  help, 
unless  it  also  averts  unlooked  for  accidents  by 
which,  even  when  the  field  is  rich  with  the 
expected  fruitful  crops,  not  only  is  the  man 
deprived  of  what  he  has  vainly  hoped  and 
looked  for,  but  actually  loses  the  abundant 
fruits  which  he  has  already  gathered  and 
stored  up  in  the  threshing  floor  or  in  the  barn. 
From  which  we  clearly  infer  that  the  initiative 
not  only  of  our  actions  but  also  of  good 
thoughts  comes  from  God,  who  inspires  us 
with  a  good  will  to  begin  with,  and  supplies 
us  with  the  opportunity  of  carrying  out  what 
we  rightly  desire  :  for  "  every  good  gift  and 
every  perfect  gift  cometh  down  from  above, 
from  the  Father  of  lights,"  2  who  both  begins 
what  is  good,  and  continues  it  and  completes  it 
in  us,  as  the  Apostle  says  :  "  But  He  who  giveth 
seed  to  the  sower  will  both  provide  bread  to 
eat  and  will  multiply  your  seed  and  make  the 
fruits  of  your  righteousness  to  increase."  3  But 
it  is  for  us,  humbly  to  follow  day  by  day  the 
grace  of  God  which  is  drawing  us,  or  else  if 
we  resist  with  "a  stiff  neck,"  and  (to  use  the 
words  of  Scripture)  "  uncircumcised  ears,"  i  we 
shall  deserve  to  hear  the  words  of  Jeremiah  : 
"  Shall  he  that  falleth,  not  rise  again  ?  and  he 
that  is  turned  away,  shall  he  not  turn  again  ? 
Why  then  is  this  people  in  Jerusalem  turned 
away  with  a  stubborn  revolting  ?  They  have 
stiffened  their  necks  and  refused  to  return."  5 


1  Deut.  xxviii.  23 ;  Joel  i.  4.     3  2  Cor.  ix.  10.     6  Jer.  viii.  4,  5. 

2  S.  James  i.  17.  *  Acts  vii.  51. 


424 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

An  objection,  asking  how  the  Gentiles  can  be  said  to  have  chas- 
tity without  the  grace  of  God. 

Germanus:  To  this  explanation,  the  excel- 
lence of  which  we  cannot  hastily  disprove,  it 
seems  a  difficulty  that  it  tends  to  destroy  free 
will.  For  as  we  see  that  many  of  the  heathen 
to  whom  the  assistance  of  Divine  grace  has 
certainly  not  been  vouchsafed,  are  eminent  not 
only  in  the  virtues  of  frugality  and  patience, 
but  (which  is  more  remarkable)  in  that  of  chas- 
tity, how  can  we  think  that  the  freedom  of  their 
will  is  taken  captive  and  that  these  virtues  are 
granted  to  them  by  God's  gift,  especially  as  in 
following  after  the  wisdom  of  this  world,  and  in 
their  utter  ignorance  not  only  of  God's  grace 
but  even  of  the  existence  of  the  true  God,  as 
we  have  known  Him  by  the  course  of  our  read- 
ing and  the  teaching  of  others  —  they  are  said 
to  have  gained  the  most  perfect  purity  of  chas- 
tity by  their  own  efforts  and  exertions. 


CHAPTER   V. 

The  answer  on  the  imaginary  chastity  of  the  philosophers. 

Ch^eremon  :  I  am  pleased  that,  though  you 
are  fired  with  the  greatest  longing  to  know  the 
truth,  yet  you  bring  forward  some  foolish  points, 
as  by  your  raising  these  objections  the  value 
of  the  Catholic  faith  may  seem  better  estab- 
lished, and  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  more 
thoroughly  explored.  For  what  wise  man  would 
make  such  contradictory  statements  as  yes- 
terday to  maintain  that  the  heavenly  purity  of 
chastity  could  not  possibly  even  by  God's  grace 
be  bestowed  on  any  mortals,  and  now  to  hold 
that  it  was  obtained  even  by  the  heathen  by 
their  own  strength  ?  But  as  you  have  certainly, 
as  I  said,  made  these  objections  from  the  de- 
sire of  getting  at  the  truth,  consider  what  we 
hold  on  these  points.  First  we  certainly  must 
not  think  that  the  philosophers  attained  such 
chastity  of  soul  as  is  required  of  us,  on  whom  it 
is  enjoined  that  not  fornication  only,  but  un- 
cleanness  be  not  so  much  as  named  among  us. 
But  they  had  a  sort  of  //eoonj,  i.e.,  some  parti- 
cle of  chastity;  viz.,  continence  of  the  flesh,  by 
which  they  could  restrain  their  lust  from  carnal 
intercourse :  but  this  internal  purity  of  mind  and 
continual  purity  of  body  they  could  not  attain, 
I  will  not  say,  in  act,  but  even  in  thought.  Finally 
Socrates,  the  most  famous  of  them  all,  as  they 
themselves  esteem  him,  was  not  ashamed  to 
profess  this  of  himself.  For  when  one  who 
judged  a  man's  character  by  his  looks  (ipvai- 
oyvuuoiv^  looked  at  him,  and  said  o/u/nma  naid 


egaoTov,  i.e.,  "  the  eyes  of  a  corrupter  of  boys," 
and  his  scholars  rushed  at  him,  and  brought 
him  to  their  master  and  wanted  to  avenge  the 
insult,  it  is  said  that  he  checked  their  indigna- 
tion with  these  words :  nuvo/wde,  ZtuTqcx,  •  ei/ui  /«<>, 
ene/M  de,  i.e.,  Stop,  my  friends,  for  I  am,  but  I 
restrain  myself.  It  is  then  quite  clearly  shown 
not  only  by  our  assertions  but  actually  by  their 
own  admissions  that  it  was  only  the  perform- 
ance of  indecent  acts,  i.e.,  the  disgrace  of  inter- 
course, that  was  by  force  of  necessity  checked 
by  them,  and  that  the  desire  and  delight  in  this 
passion  was  not  shut  out  from  their  hearts. 
But  with  what  horror  must  one  bring  forward 
this  saying  of  Diogenes  ?  For  a  thing  which 
the  philosophers  of  this  world  were  not  ashamed 
to  bring  forward  as  something  remarkable,  can- 
not be  spoken  or  heard  by  us  without  shame  : 
for  to  one  to  be  punished  for  the  crime  of  adul- 
tery they  relate  that  he  said  to  8wQtui>  nwlov- 
fievov  d(xfuro)  fir\  uyoou'Cf,  i.e.,  ycu  should  not  buy 
with  your  death  what  is  sold  for  nothing.1  It  is 
clear  then  that  they  did  not  recognize  the  vir- 
tue of  the  true  chastity  which  we  seek  for,  and 
so  it  is  quite  certain  that  our  circumcision  which 
is  in  the  spirit  cannot  be  acquired  save  only  by 
the  gift  of  God,  and  that  it  belongs  only  to 
those  who  serve  God  with  full  contrition  of 
their  spirit. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

That  without  the  grace  of  God  we  cannot  make  any  diligent 
efforts. 

And  therefore  though  in  many  things,  indeed 
in  everything,  it  can  be  shown  that  men  always 
have  need  of  God's  help,  and  that  human  weak- 
ness cannot  accomplish  anything  that  has  to  do 
with  salvation  by  itself  alone,  i.e.,  withouttheaid 
of  God,  yet  in  nothing  is  this  more  clearly  shown 
than  in  the  acquisition  and  preservation  of  chas- 
tity. For  as  the  discussion  on  the  difficulty  of 
its  perfection  is  put  off  for  so  long,  let  us  mean- 
while discourse  briefly  on  the  instruments  of 
it.  Who,  I  ask,  could,  however  fervent  he  might 
be  in  spirit,  relying  on  his  own  strength  with 
no  praise  from  men  endure  the  squalor  of  the 
desert,  and  I  will  not  say  the  daily  lack  but 
the  supply  of  dry  bread  ?  Who  without  the 
Lord's  consolation,  could  put  up  with  the  contin- 
ual thirst  for  water,  or  deprive  his  human  eyes 
of  that  sweet  and  delicious  morning  sleep,  and 
regularly  compress  his  whole  time  of  rest  and 
repose  into  the  limits  of  four  hours  ?  Who 
would  be  sufficient  without  God's  grace  to  give 
continual  attendance  to  reading  and  constant 
earnestness  in  work,  receiving  no  advantage  of 


1  The  source  of  these  stories  of  Socrates  and  Diogenes  has  not 
been  traced. 


THE   THIRD    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   CH^EREMON. 


425 


present  gain  ?  And  all  these  matters,  as  we 
cannot  desire  them  continuously  without  divine 
inspiration,  so  in  no  respect  whatever  can  we  per- 
form them  without  His  help.  And  that  we  may 
ensure  that  these  things  are  not  only  proved  to 
us  by  the  teaching  of  experience,  but  also  made 
still  clearer  by  sure  proof  and  arguments,  does 
not  some  weakness  intervene  in  the  case  of 
many  things  which  we  wish  usefully  to  perform, 
and  though  the  full  keenness  of  our  desire  and 
the  perfection  of  our  will  be  not  wanting,  yet 
interfere  with  the  wish  we  have  conceived,  so 
that  there  is  no  carrying  out  of  our  purpose, 
unless  the  power  to  perform  it  has  been  granted 
by  the  mercy  of  the  Lord,  so  that,  although 
there  are  countless  swarms  of  people  who  are 
anxious  to  stick  faithfully  to  the  pursuit  of  vir- 
tue, you  can  scarcely  find  any  who  are  able 
to  carry  it  out  and  endure  it,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  fact  that,  even  when  no  weakness  at 
all  hinders  us,  the  opportunity  for  doing  every- 
thing that  we  wish  does  not  lie  in  our  own  power. 
For  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  secure  the  silence 
of  solitude  and  severe  fasts  and  undisturbed 
study  even  when  we  could  use  such  opportuni- 
ties, but  by  a  chapter  of  accidents  we  are  often 
very  much  against  our  will  kept  away  from  the 
salutary  ordinances  so  that  we  have  to  pray  to 
the  Lord  for  opportunities  of  place  or  time  in 
which  to  practise  them.  And  it  is  clear  that  the 
ability  for  these  is  not  sufficient  for  us  unless 
there  be  also  granted  to  us  by  the  Lord  an  op- 
portunity of  doing  what  we  are  capable  of  (as 
the  Apostle  also  says  :  "  For  we  wanted  to  come 
to  you  once  and  again,  but  Satan  hindered  us  " 2), 
so  that  sometimes  we  find  for  our  advantage 
we  are  called  away  from  these  spiritual  exer- 
cises in  order  that  while  without  our  own  con- 
sent the  regularity  of  our  routine  is  broken  and 
we  yield  something  to  weakness  of  the  flesh, 
we  may  even  against  our  will  be  brought  to 
a  salutary  patience.  Of  which  providential 
arrangement  of  God  the  blessed  Apostle  says 
something  similar  :  "  For  which  I  besought  the 
Lord  thrice  that  it  might  depart  from  me.  And 
He  said  to  me  :  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee : 
for  my  strength  is  made  perfect  in  weakness  :  " 
and  again  :  "  For  we  know  not  what  to  pray 
for  as  we  ought."  2 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Of  the  main  purpose  of  God  and  His  daily  Providence. 

For  the  purpose  of  God  whereby  He  made 
man  not  to  perish  but  to  live  for  ever,  stands 
immovable.     And  when  His  goodness  sees  in 


1  1  Thess.  ii.  18. 


2  2  Cor.  xii.  8,  9  ;  Rom.  viii.  26. 


us  even  the  very  smallest  spark  of  good  will 
shining  forth,  which  He  Himself  has  struck  as 
it  were  out  of  the  hard  flints  of  our  hearts,  He 
fans  and  fosters  it  and  nurses  it  with  His 
breath,  as  He  "  willeth  all  men  to  be  saved  and 
to  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,"  for  as 
He  says,  "  it  is  not  the  will  of  your  Father 
which  is  in  heaven  that  one  of  these  little 
ones  should  perish,"  and  again  it  says  : 
"  Neither  will  God  have  a  soul  to  perish,  but 
recalleth,"  meaning  that  he  that  is  cast  off 
should  not  altogether  perish.3  For  He  is 
true,  and  lieth  not  when  He  lays  down 
with  an  oath  :  "As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord 
God,  for  I  will  not  the  death  of  a  sinner,  but 
that  he  should  turn  from  his  way  and  live."  4 
For  if  He  willeth  not  that  one  of  His  little  ones 
should  perish,  how  can  we  imagine  without 
grievous  blasphemy  that  He  does  not  generally 
will  all  men,  but  only  some  instead  of  all  to  be 
saved  ?  Those  then  who  perish,  perish  against 
His  will,  as  He  testifies  against  each  one  of 
them  day  by  day  :  "  Turn  from  your  evil  ways, 
and  why  will  ye  die,  O  house  of  Israel  ?  "  5 
And  again  :  "  How  often  would  I  have  gath- 
ered thy  children  together  as  a  hen  gather- 
eth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye 
would  not ;  "  and  :  "  Wherefore  is  this  people  in 
Jerusalem  turned  away  with  a  stubborn  revolt- 
ing ?  They  have  hardened  their  faces  and 
refused  to  return."  6  The  grace  of  Christ  then 
is  at  hand  every  day,  which,  while  it  "willeth 
all  men  to  be  saved  and  to  come  to  the  know- 
ledge of  the  truth,"  calleth  all  without  any  ex- 
ception, saying  :  "  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that 
labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  refresh 
you."  7  But  if  He  calls  not  all  generally  but 
only  some,  it  follows  that  not  all  are  heavy 
laden  either  with  original  or  actual  sin,  and 
that  this  saying  is  not  a  true  one  :  "  For  all 
have  sinned  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of 
God  ;  "  nor  can  we  believe  that  "  death  passed 
on  all  men."  8  And  so  far  do  all  who  perish, 
perish  against  the  will  of  God,  that  God  can- 
not be  said  to  have  made  death,  as  Scripture 
itself  testifies  :  "  For  God  made  not  death, 
neither  rejoiceth  in  the  destruction  of  the 
living."  9  And  hence  it  comes  that  for  the 
most  part  when  instead  of  good  things  we  ask 
for  the  opposite,  our  prayer  is  either  heard 
but  tardily  or  not  at  all  ;  and  again  the  Lord 
vouchsafes  to  bring  upon  us  even  against  our 
will,  like  some  most  beneficent  physician,  for 
our  good  what  we  think  is  opposed  to  it,  and 
sometimes  He  delays  and  hinders  our  injurious 
purposes  and  deadly  attempts  from  having  their 


3  1  Tim.  ii.  4;  S.  Matt,  xviii.  14;  2  Sam.  xiv.  14. 

4  Ezek.  xxxiii.  11.  7  S.  Matt.  xi.  28. 

5  lb.  s   Rom.  iii.  23  ;  v, 
0  S.  Matt,  xxiii.  37;  Jer.  viii.  5.              9  Wisdom  i.  13. 


426 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


horrible  effects,  and,  while  we  are  rushing 
headlong  towards  death,  draws  us  back  to 
salvation,  and  rescues  us  without  our  know- 
ing it  from  the  jaws  of  hell. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Of  the  grace  of  God  and  the  freedom  of  the  will. 

And  this  care  of  His  and  providence  with 
regard  to  us  the  Divine  word  has  finely  de- 
scribed by  the  prophet  Hosea  under  the  figure 
of  Jerusalem  as  an  harlot,  and  inclining  with 
disgraceful  eagerness  to  the  worship  of  idols, 
where  when  she  says  :  "  I  will  go  after  my 
lovers,  who  give  me  my  bread,  and  my  water, 
and  my  wool,  and  my  flax,  and  my  oil,  and  my 
drink  ;  "  the  Divine  consideration  feplies  hav- 
ing regard  to  her  salvation  and  not  to  her 
wishes  :  "  Behold  I  will  hedge  up  thy  way  with 
thorns,  and  I  will  stop  it  up  with  a  wall,  and 
she  shall  not  find  her  paths.  And  she  shall 
follow  after  her  lovers,  and  shall  not  overtake 
them  :  and  she  shall  seek  them,  and  shall  not 
find  them,  and  shall  say  :  I  will  return  to  my 
first  husband,  because  it  was  better  with  me 
then  than  now."  *  And  again  our  obstinacy, 
and  scorn,  with  which  we  in  our  rebellious 
spirit  disdain  Him  when  He  urges  us  to  a  salu- 
tary return,  is  described  in  the  following 
comparison:  He  says :  "  And  I  said  thou  shalt 
call  Me  Father,  and  shalt  not  cease  to  walk 
after  Me.  But  as  a  woman  that  despiseth  her 
lover,  so  hath  the  house  of  Israel  despised  Me, 
saith  the  Lord."  2  Aptly  then,  as  He  has  com- 
pared Jerusalem  to  an  adulteress  forsaking 
her  husband,  He  compares  His  own  love  and 
persevering  goodness  to  a  man  who  is  dying 
of  love  for  a  woman.  For  the  goodness  and 
love  of  God,  which  He  ever  shows  to  mankind, 
—  since  it  is  overcome  by  no  injuries  so  as 
to  cease  from  caring  for  our  salvation,  or  be 
driven  from  His  first  intention,  as  if  vanquished 
by  our  iniquities,  —  could  not  be  more  fitly 
described  by  any  comparison  than  the  case 
of  a  man  inflamed  with  most  ardent  love  for 
a  woman,  who  is  consumed  by  a  more  burning 
passion  for  her,  the  more  he  sees  that  he  is 
slighted  and  despised  by  her.  The  Divine 
protection  then  is  inseparably  present  with 
us,  and  so  great  is  the  kindness  of  the  Creator 
towards  His  creatures,  that  His  Providence 
not  only  accompanies  it,  but  actually  con- 
stantly precedes  it,  as  the  prophet  expe- 
rienced and  plainly  confessed,  saying  :  "  My 
God  will  prevent  me  with  His  mercy."  3  And 
when  He  sees  in  us  some  beginnings  of  a  good 

1  Hosea  ii.  5-7.         2  Jer.  iii.  19,  20.        3  ps.  1-viii.  (lix.)  11. 


will,  He  at  once  enlightens  it  and  strengthens 
it  and  urges  it  on  towards  salvation,  increasing 
that  which  He  Himself  implanted  or  which 
He  sees  to  have  arisen  from  our  own  efforts. 
For  He  says  "  Before  they  cry,  I  will  hear  them  : 
While  they  are  still  speaking  I  will  hear  them  ;  " 
and  again  :  "As  soon  as  He  hears  the  voice  of 
thy  crying,  He  will  answer  thee."  4  And  in 
His  goodness,  not  only  does  He  inspire  us 
with  holy  desires,  but  actually  creates  occa- 
sions for  life  and  opportunities  for  good  results, 
and  shows  to  those  in  error  the  direction  of 
the  way  of  salvation. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Of  the  power  of  our  good  will,  and  the  grace  of  God. 

Whence  human  reason  cannot  easily  decide 
how  the  Lord  gives  to  those  that  ask,  is  found 
by  those  that  seek,  and  opens  to  those  that 
knock,  and  on  the  other  hand  is  found  by 
those  that  sought  Him  not,  appears  openly 
among  those  who  asked  not  for  Him,  and  all 
the  day  long  stretches  forth  His  hands  to  an 
unbelieving  and  gainsaying  people,  calls  those 
who  resist  and  stand  afar  off,  draws  men 
against  their  will  to  salvation,  takes  away  from 
those  who  want  to  sin  the  faculty  of  carrying 
out  their  desire,  in  His  goodness  stands  in  the 
way  of  those  who  are  rushing  into  wickedness. 
But  who  can  easily  see  how  it  is  that  the  com- 
pletion of  our  salvation  is  assigned  to  our  own 
will,  of  which  it  is  said:  "  If  ye  be  willing,  and 
hearken  unto  Me,  ye  shall  eat  the  good  things 
of  the  land,"  5  and  how  it  is  "  not  of  him  that 
willeth  or  runneth,  but  of  God  that  hath 
mercy?"6  What  too  is  this,  that  God  "will 
render  to  every  man  according  to  his  works  ;  "  7 
and  "it  is  God  who  worketh  in  you  both  to  will 
and  to  do,  of  His  good  pleasure  ;"  8  and  "  this 
is  not  of  yourselves  but  it  is  the  gift  of  God  :  not 
of  works,  that  no  man  may  boast  ?  "  9  What  is 
this  too  which  is  said  :  "  Draw  near  to  the  Lord, 
and  He  will  draw  near  to  you,"10  and  what  He 
says  elsewhere  :  "  No  man  cometh  unto  Me  ex- 
cept the  Father  who  sent  Me  draw  Him  ?  "  n 
What  is  it  that  we  find  :  "  Make  straight  paths 
for  your  feet  and  direct  your  ways,"  12  and  what 
is  it  that  we  say  in  our  prayers  :  "  Direct  my  way 
in  Thy  sight,"  and  "  establish  my  goings  in  Thy 
paths,  that  my  footsteps  be  not  moved  ?  " 13 
What  is  it  again  that  we  are  admonished: 
"  Make  you  a  new  heart  and  a  new  spirit,"  14  and 
what  is  this  which  is  promised  to  us  :   "I  will 


4  Is.  lxv.  24  ;  xxx.  19.     8  Phil.  ii.  13.          I2  Prov.  iv.  26  (LXX.). 

5  Is.  i.  19.  9  Eph.  ii.  8,  9.       13  Ps.  v.  9;  xvi.  (xvii.)  5. 
0  Rom.  ix.  16.  10  S.  James  iv.  8.  14  Ezek.  xviii  31. 

7  Rom.  ii.  6.  1J  S.  John  vi.  44. 


THE   THIRD    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    CH^EREMON. 


427 


give  them  one  heart  and  will  put  a  new  spirit 
within  them  :  "  and  "  I  will  take  away  the  stony 
heart  from  their  flesh  and  will  give  them  an 
heart  of  flesh  that  they  may  walk  in  Thy 
statutes  and  keep  My  judgments  ?  "  1  What 
is  it  that  the  Lord  commands,  where  He  says  : 
"  Wash  thine  heart  of  iniquity,  O  Jerusalem, 
that  thou  mayest  be  saved,"  2  and  what  is  it 
that  the  prophet  asks  for  from  the  Lord,  when 
he  says  "  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God," 
and  again  :  "  Thou  shalt  wash  me,  and  I  shall 
be  whiter  than  snow  ?  "  3  What  is  it  that  is 
said  to  us  :  "  Enlighten  yourselves  with  the 
light  of  knowledge  ; "  4  and  this  which  is  said  of 
God  :  "  Who  teacheth  man  knowledge  ;  "  5  and  : 
"  the  Lord  enlightens  the  blind,"  6  or  at  any 
rate  this,  which  we  say  in  our  prayers  with  the 
prophet:  "Lighten  mine  eyes  that  I  sleep  not 
in  death,"7  unless  in  all  these  there  is  a 
declaration  of  the  grace  of  God  and  the  free- 
dom of  our  will,  because  even  of  his  own 
motion  a  man  can  be  led  to  the  quest  of  virtue, 
but  always  stands  in  need  of  the  help  of  the 
Lord  ?  For  neither  does  anyone  enjoy  good 
health  whenever  he  will,  nor  is  he  at  his  own  will 
and  pleasure  set  free  from  disease  and  sickness. 
But  what  good  is  it  to  have  desired  the  bless- 
ing of  health,  unless  God,  who  grants  us  the 
enjoyments,  of  life  itself,  grant  also  vigorous 
and  sound  health  ?  But  that  it  may  be  still 
clearer  that  through  the  excellence  of  nature 
which  is  granted  by  the  goodness  of  the 
Creator,_sometimes  the  first  beginnings  of  a 
good  will  arise,  which  however  cannot  attain 
to  the  complete  performance  of  what  is  good 
unless  it  is  guided  by  the  Lord,  the  Apostle 
bears  witness  and  says  :  "  For  to  will  is  present 
with  me,  but  to  perform  what  is  good  I  find 
not."  8 

CHAPTER   X. 

On  the  weakness  of  free  will. 

For  Holy  Scripture  supports  the  freedom  of 
the  will  where  it  says  :  "  Keep  thy  heart  with 
all  diligence,"  9  but  the  Apostle  indicates  its 
weakness  by  saying  "  The  Lord  keep  your 
hearts  and  minds  in  Christ  Jesus."  10  David 
asserts  the  power  of  free  will,  where  he  says 
"  I  have  inclined  my  heart  to  do  Thy  righteous 
acts," u  but  the  same  man  in  like  manner 
teaches  us  its  weakness,  by  praying  and  say- 
ing, "  Incline  my  heart  unto  Thy  testimonies 
and  not  to  covetousness  :  "  12  Solomon  also  : 
"  The  Lord  incline  our  hearts  unto   Himself 


1  Ezek.  i.  19,  20.  B  Ps.  xciii.  (xciv.)  10.    9  Prov.  iv.  23. 

2  Jer.  iv.  14.  »  Ps.  cxlv.  (cxlvi.)8.  10  Phil.  iv.  7. 

3  Ps.  1.  (li.)  12,  9.         1  Ps.  xii.  (xiii.)  4.         "  Fs.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  112. 

4  Hos.  x.  12  (LXX.).  8  Rom.  vii.  18.  12  lb.  ver  36. 


that  we  may  walk  in  all  His  ways  and  keep 
His  commandments,  and  ordinances  and  judg- 
ments." 13  The  Psalmist  denotes  the  power  of 
our  will,  where  he  says :  "  Keep  thy  tongue 
from  evil,  and  thy  lips  that  they  speak  no 
guile,"  14  our  prayer  testifies  to  its  weakness, 
when  we  say  :  "  O  Lord,  set  a  watch  before 
my  mouth,  and  keep  the  door  of  my  lips."  15 
The  importance  of  our  will  is  maintained  by 
the  Lord,  when  we  find  "  Break  the  chains  of 
thy  neck,  O  captive  daughter  of  Zion :  "  16  of  its 
weakness  the  prophet  sings,  when  he  says  : 
"  The  Lord  looseth  them  that  are  bound  :  "  and 
"  Thou  hast  broken  my  chains  :  To  Thee  will  I 
offer  the  sacrifice  of  praise."  "  We  hear  in  the 
gospel  the  Lord  summoning  us  to  come  speed- 
ily to  Him  by  our  free  will :  "  Come  unto  Me 
all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I 
will  refresh  you,"  1S  but  the  same  Lord  testifies 
to  its  weakness,  by  saying  :  "  No  man  can 
come  unto  Me  except  the  Father  which  sent 
Me  draw  him."  19  The  Apostle  indicates  our 
free  will  by  saying  :  "  So  run  that  ye  may  ob- 
tain :  "  20  but  to  its  weakness  John  Baptist 
bears  witness  where  he  says  :  "  No  man  can 
receive  anything  of  himself,  except  it  be 
given  him  from  above."  21  We  are  commanded 
to  keep  our  souls  with  all  care,  when  the 
Prophet  says  :  "  Keep  your  souls,"  22  but  by  the 
same  spirit  another  Prophet  proclaims  :  "  Ex- 
cept the  Lord  keep  the  city,  the  watchman 
waketh  but  in  vain."  23  The  Apostle  writing 
to  the  Philippians,  to  show  that  their  will  is 
free,  says  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with 
fear  and  trembling,"  but  to  point  out  its  weak- 
ness, he  adds  :  "  For  it  is  God  that  worketh 
in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good 
pleasure."  24 

CHAPTER   XL 

Whether  the  grace  of  God  precedes  or  follows  our  good  will. 

And  so.  these  are  somehow  mixed  up  and  in- 
discriminately confused,  so  that  among  many 
persons,  which  depends  on  the  other  is  involved 
in  great  questionings,  i.e.,  does  God  have  com- 
passion upon  us  because  we  have  shown  the 
beginning  of  a  good  will,  or  does  the  begin- 
ning of  a  good  will  follow  because  God  has 
had  compassion  upon  us  ?  For  many  believing 
each  of  these  and  asserting  them  more  widely 
than  is  right  are  entangled  in  all  kinds  of  op- 
posite errors.  For  if  we  say  that  the  begin- 
ning of  free  will   is  in   our  own  power,  what 


13  1   Kings  viii.  5S.  10  S.  John  vi.  44. 

14  Ps.  xxxiii.  fxxxiv.)  14.  20  1  Cor.  ix.  24. 

15  Ps.  cxl.  (cxli.)  3.  21  S.  John  iii.  27. 
10  Is.  Hi.  2.  22  Jer.  xvii.  21. 

17  Ps.  cxlv(cxlvi.)  7  ;  cxv.(cxvi.)  16, 17.  23  Ps.  cxxvi.  (cxxvii)  I. 

18  S.  Matt.  xi.  2S.  24  Phil.  ii.  12,  13. 


428 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


about  Paul  the  persecutor,  what  about  Mat- 
thew the  publican,  of  whom  the  one  was 
drawn  to  salvation  while  eager  for  bloodshed 
and  the  punishment  of  the  innocent,  the  other 
for  violence  and  rapine  ?  But  if  we  say  that  the 
beginning  of  our  free  will  is  always  due  to 
the  inspiration  of  the  grace  of  God,  what  about 
the  faith  of  Zaccheus,  or  what  are  we  to  say 
of  the  goodness  of  the  thief  on  the  cross,  who 
by  their  own  desires  brought  violence  to  bear 
on  the  kingdom  of  heaven  and  so  prevented 
the  special  leadings  of  their  vocation  ?  But  if 
we  attribute  the  performance  of  virtuous  acts, 
and  the  execution  of  God's  commands  to  our 
own  will,  how  do  we  pray  :  "  Strengthen,  O 
God,  what  Thou  hast  wrought  in  us  ;  "  and 
"  The  work  of  our  hands  stablish  Thou  upon 
us  ?  "  x  We  know  that  Balaam  was  brought  to 
curse  Israel,  but  we  see  that  when  he  wished 
to  curse  he  was  not  permitted  to.  Abime- 
lech  is  preserved  from  touching  Rebecca  and 
so  sinning  against  God.  Joseph  is  sold  by 
the  envy  of  his  brethren,  in  order  to  bring 
about  the  descent  of  the  children  of  Israel 
into  Egypt,  and  that  while  they  were  contem- 
plating the  death  of  their  brother  provision 
might  be  made  for  them  against  the  famine 
to  come  :  as  Joseph  shows  when  he  makes  him- 
self known  to  his  brethren  and  says  :  "  Fear 
not,  neither  let  it  be  grievous  unto  you  that  ye 
sold  me  into  these  parts  :  for  for  your  salva- 
tion God  sent  me  before  you  ;  "  and  below  : 
"  For  God  sent  me  before  that  ye  might  be  pre- 
served upon  the  earth  and  might  have  food 
whereby  to  live.  Not  by  your  design  was  I 
sent  but  by  the  will  of  God,  who  has  made  me 
a  father  to  Pharaoh  and  lord  of  all  his  house, 
and  chief  over  all  the  land  of  Egypt."  And 
when  his  brethren  were  alarmed  after  the 
death  of  his  father,  he  removed  their  suspicions 
and  terror  by  saying  :  "  Fear  not :  Can  ye 
resist  the  will  of  God  ?  You  imagined  evil 
against  me  but  God  turned  it  into  good,  that 
He  might  exalt  me,  as  ye  see  at  the  present 
time,  that  He  might  save  much  people."  2  And 
that  this  was  brought  about  providentially  the 
blessed  David  likewise  declared  saying  in  the 
hundred  and  fourth  Psalm  :  "  Anof  He  called 
for  a  dearth  upon  the  land  :  and  brake  all  the 
staff  of  bread.  He  sent  a  man  before  them  : 
Joseph  was  sold  for  a  slave."  3  These  two 
then  ;  viz.,  the  grace  of  God  and  free  will  seem 
opposed  to  each  other,  but  really  are  in  har- 
mony, and  we  gather  from  the  system  of  good- 
ness that  we  ought  to  have  both  alike,  lest  if 
we  withdraw  one  of  them  from  man,  we  may 
seem  to  have  broken  the  rule  of   the  Church's 


faith  :  for  when  God  sees  us  inclined  to  will 
what  is  good,  He  meets,  guides,  and  strength- 
ens us  :  for  "  At  the  voice  of  thy  cry,  as  soon  as 
He  shall  hear,  He  will  answer  thee  ;  "  and  : 
"  Call  upon  Me,"  He  says,  "  in  the  day  of  tri- 
bulation and  I  will  deliver  thee,  and  thou  shalt 
glorify  Me."  4  And  again,  if  He  finds  that  we 
are  unwilling  or  have  grown  cold,  He  stirs  our 
hearts  with  salutary  exhortations,  by  which  a 
good  will  is  either  renewed  or  formed  in  us. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

That  a  good  will  should  not  always  be  attributed  to  grace,  nor 
always  to  man  himself. 

For  we  should  not  hold  that  God  made  man 
such  that  he  can  never  will  or  be  capable  of 
what  is  good  :  or  else  He  has  not  granted  him 
a  free  will,  if  He  has  suffered  him  only  to  will 
or  be  capable  of  evil,  but  neither  to  will  or  be 
capable  of  what  is  good  of  himself.  And,  in 
this  case  how  will  that  first  statement  of  the 
Lord  made  about  men  after  the  fall  stand  : 
"  Behold,  Adam  is  become  as  one  of  us,  know- 
ing good  and  evil  ?  "  5  For  we  cannot  think 
that  before,  he  was  such  as  to  be  altogether 
ignorant  of  good.  Otherwise  we  should  have 
to  admit  that  he  was  formed  like  some  ir- 
rational and  insensate  beast :  which  is  suffi- 
ciently absurd  and  altogether  alien  from  the 
Catholic  faith.  Moreover  as  the  wisest  Solo- 
mon says  :  "  God  made  man  upright,"  i.e.,  al- 
ways to  enjoy  the  knowledge  of  good  only, 
"  But  they  have  sought  out  'many  imagina- 
tions," 6  for  they  came,  as  has  been  said,  to  know 
good  and  evil.  Adam  therefore  after  the  fall 
conceived  a  knowledge  of  evil  which  he  had  not 
previously,  but  did  not  lose  the  knowledge  of 
good  which  he  had  before.  Finally  the  Apos- 
tle's words  very  clearly  show  that  mankind  did 
not  lose  after  the  fall  of  Adam  the  knowledge 
of  good  :  as  he  says  :  "  For  when  the  Gentiles, 
which  have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature  the 
things  of  the  law,  these,  though  they  have  not 
the  law,  are  a  law  to  themselves,  as  they  show 
the  work  of  the  law  written  in  their  hearts, 
their  conscience  bearing  witness  to  these,  and 
their  thoughts  within  them  either  accusing  or 
else  excusing  them,  in  the  day  in  which  God 
shall  judge  the  secrets  of  men."  7  And  with 
the  same  meaning  the  Lord  rebukes  by  the 
prophet  the  unnatural  but  freely  chosen  blind- 
ness of  the  Jews,  which  they  by  their  obstinacy 
brought  upon  themselves,  saying  :  "  Hear  ye 
deaf,  and  ye  blind,  behold  that  you  may  see. 


1  Ps.  lxvii.  (lxviii.)  29;  lxxxix.  (xc.)  17. 

2  Gen.  xlv.  5-8 ;  1.  19,  20.  3  Ps.  civ.  (cv).  16,  17. 


4  Is.  xxx.  19;  Ps.  xlix.  (1.)  15. 

5  Gen.  iii.  22. 


6  Eccl.  vii.  29  (LXX.). 
"  Rom.  ii.  14-16. 


THE    THIRD    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   CH/EREMON. 


429 


Who  is  deaf  but  My  servant  ?  and  blind,  but 
he  to  whom  I  have  sent  My  messengers  ?  "  J 
And  that  no  one  might  ascribe  this  blindness  of 
theirs  to  nature  instead  of  to  their  own  will, 
elsewhere  He  says  :  "  Bring  forth  the  people 
that  are  blind  and  have  eyes  :  that  are  deaf 
and  have  ears  ;"  and  again  :  "having  eyes,  but 
ye  see  not ;  and  ears,  but  ye  hear  not."  '2  The 
Lord  also  says  in  the  gospel :  "  Because  seeing 
they  see  not,  and  hearing  they  hear  not  neither 
do  they  understand."  8  And  in  them  is  fulfilled 
the  prophecy  of  Isaiah  which  says  :  "  Hearing 
ye  shall  hear  and  shall  not  understand  :  and 
seeing  ye  shall  see  and  shall  not  see.  For  the 
heart  of  this  people  is  waxed  fat,  and  their  ears 
are  dull  of  hearing  :  and  they  have  closed  their 
eyes,  lest  they  should  see  with  their  eyes  and  hear 
with  their  ears  and  understand  with  their  heart, 
and  be  turned  and  I  should  heal  them." 4  Finally 
in  order  to  denote  that  the  possibility  of  good 
was  in  them,  in  chiding  the  Pharisees,  He 
says  :  "  But  why  of  your  own  selves  do  ye  not 
judge  what  is  right  ?  "  5  And  this  he  certainly 
would  not  have  said  to  them,  unless  He  knew 
that  by  their  natural  judgment  they  could  dis- 
cern what  was  fair.  Wherefore  we  must  take 
care  not  to  refer  all  the  merits  of  the  saints  to 
the  Lord  in  such  a  way  as  to  ascribe  nothing 
but  what  is  evil  and  perverse  to  human  nature  : 
in  doing  which  we  are  confuted  by  the  evi- 
dence of  the  most  wise  Solomon,  or  rather  of 
the  Lord  Himself,  Whose  words  these  are ;  for 
when  the  building  of  the  Temple  was  finished 
and  he  was  praying,  he  spoke  as  follows  :  "  And 
David  my  father  would  have  built  a  house  to 
the  name  of  the  Lord  God  of  Israel :  and  the 
Lord  said  to  David  my  father :  Wh6reas  thou 
hast  thought  in  thine  heart  to  build  a  house  to 
My  name,  thou  hast  well  done  in  having  this 
same  thing  in  thy  mind.  Nevertheless  thou 
shalt  not  build  a  house  to  My  name."6  This 
thought  then  and  this  purpose  of  king  David, 
are  we  to  call  it  good  and  from  God  or  bad  and 
from  man  ?  For  if  that  thought  was  good  and 
from  God,  why  did  He  by  whom  it  was  inspired 
refuse  that  it  should  be  carried  into  effect  ?  But 
if  it  is  bad  and  from  man,  why  is  it  praised  by 
the  Lord  ?  It  remains  then  that  we  must  take 
it  as  good  and  from  man.  And  in  the  same 
way  we  can  take  our  own  thoughts  today.  For 
it  was  not  given  only  to  David  to  think  what 
is  good  of  himself,  nor  is  it  denied  to  us  natu- 
rally to  think  or  imagine  anything  that  is  good. 
It  cannot  then  be  doubted  that  there  are  by 
nature  some  seeds  of  goodness  in  every  soul 
implanted  by  the  kindness  of  the  Creator : 
but  unless  these   are  quickened  by  the  assis- 


1  Is.  xlii.  18,  19.  3  S.  Matt.   xiii.  13.  5  S.  Luke  xii.  57. 

1  Is.  xliii.  8;  Jer.  v.  21.  4  Is.  vi.  9,   10.  c  1  Kings  viii.   17-19. 


tance  of  God,  they  will  not  be  able  to  attain 
to  an  increase  of  perfection,  for,  as  the  blessed 
Apostle  says :  "  Neither  is  he  that  planteth 
anything  nor  he  that  watereth,  but  God  that 
giveth  the  increase."7  But  that  freedom  of 
the  will  is  to  some  degree  in  a  man's  own 
power  is  very  clearly  taught  in  the  book 
termed  the  Pastor,8  where  two  angels  are  said 
to  be  attached  to  each  one  of  us,  i.e.,  a  good 
and  a  bad  one,  while  it  lies  at  a  man's  own 
option  to  choose  which  to  follow.  And  there- 
fore the  will  always  remains  free  in  man,  and 
can  either  neglect  or  delight  in  the  grace  of 
God.  For  the  Apostle  would  not  have  com- 
manded saying  :  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation 
with  fear  and  trembling,"  had  he  not  known 
that  it  could  be  advanced  or  neglected  by  us. 
But  that  men  might  not  fancy  that  they  had 
no  need  of  Divine  aid  for  the  work  of  Salva- 
tion, he  subjoins  :  "  For  it  is  God  that  worketh 
in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do,  of  His  good 
pleasure."9  And  therefore  he  warns  Timothy 
and  says :  "  Neglect  not  the  grace  of  God 
which  is  in  thee ;  "  and  again  :  "  For  which  cause 
I  exhort  thee  to  stir  up  the  grace  of  God 
which  is  in  thee  " 10  Hence  also  in  writing  to 
the  Corinthians  he  exhorts  and  warns  them 
not  through  their  unfruitful  works  to  show 
themselves  unworthy  of  the  grace  of  God,  say- 
ing :  "  And  we  helping,  exhort  you  that  ye 
receive  not  the  grace  of  God  in  vain  :  "  n  for 
the  reception  of  saving  grace  was  of  no  profit 
to  Simon  doubtless  because  he  had  received 
it  in  vain  ;  for  he  would  not  obey  the  com- 
mand of  the  blessed  Peter  who  said :  "  Repent 
of  thine  iniquity,  and  pray  God  if  haply  the 
thoughts  of  thine  heart  may  be  forgiven  thee  ; 
for  I  perceive  that  thou  art  in  the  gall  of  bitter- 
ness and  the  bonds  of  iniquity."  12  It  prevents 
therefore  the  will  of  man,  for  it  is  said :  "  My 
God  will  prevent  me  with  His  mercy ;  "  1S  and 
again  when  God  waits  and  for  our  good  de- 
lays, that  He  may  put  our  desires  to  the  test, 
our  will  precedes,  for  it  is  said  :  "And  in  the 
morning  my  prayer  shall  prevent  Thee  ;"  and 
again  :  "  I  prevented  the  dawning  of  the  day 
and  cried  ;  "  and  :  "  Mine  eyes  have  prevented 
the  morning."  li  For  He  calls  and  invites  us, 
when  He  says :  "  All  the  day  long  I  stretched 
forth  My  hands  to  a  disobedient  and  gainsay- 
ing people  ;  "  15  and  He  is  invited  by  us  when  we 
say  to  Him  :  "  All  the  day  long  I  have  stretched 
forth  My  hands  unto  Thee  "  16  He  waits  for  us, 
when  it  is  said  by  the  prophet :  "  Wherefore 
the  Lord   waiteth    to   have  compassion  upon 


7  1  Cor.  iii.  7.  10  1  Tim.  iv.  14;  2  Tim.  i.  6. 

8  Cf.  Conf.  VIII.  c.  xvii.  n  2   Cor.  vi.  1. 

0  Phil.  ii.  12;  13.  12  Acts  viii.  22,  23. 

13  Ps.  lviii.   (Hx.)  11. 

14  Ps.  lxxxvii.  (lxxxviii.)   14;  cxviii.  (cxix.)  147,  148. 

15  Rom.  x.  21.  10  Ps.  lxxxvii. (lxxxviii.)  10. 


43Q 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


us ;  "  l  and  He  is  waited  for  by  us,  when  we 
say  :  "  I  waited  patiently  for  the  Lord,  and  He 
inclined  unto  me ;  "  and :  "  I  have  waited  for  thy 
salvation,  0  Lord."  '2  He  strengthens  us  when 
He  says  :  "  And  I  have  chastised  them,  and 
strengthened  their  arms  ;  and  they  have  ima- 
gined evil  against  me ;  "  3  and  He  exhorts 
us  to  strengthen  ourselves  when  He  says  : 
"  Strengthen  ye  the  weak  hands,  and  make 
strong  the  feeble  knees.  "  4  Jesus  cries  :  "  If 
any  man  thirst  let  him  come  unto  Me  and 
drink  ;  "  6  the  prophet  also  cries  to  Him  :  "  I 
have  laboured  with  crying,  my  jaws  are  become 
hoarse  :  mine  eyes  have  failed,  whilst  I  hope 
in  my  God.  "  6  The  Lord  seeks  us,  when  He 
says  :  "  I  sought  and  there  was  no  man.  I 
called,  and  there  was  none  to  answer  ;  "  7  and 
He  Himself  is  sought  by  the  bride  who  mourns 
with  tears  :  "  I  sought  on  my  bed  by  night 
Him  whom  my  soul  loved  :  I  sought  Him  and 
found  Him  not ;  I  called  Him,  and  He  gave  me 
no  answer."  8 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

How  human  efforts  cannot  be  set  against  the  grace  of  God. 

And  so  the  grace  of  God  always  co-oper- 
ates with  our  will  for  its  advantage,  and  in  all 
things  assists,  protects,  and  defends  it,  in  such 
a  way  as  sometimes  even  to  require  and  look 
for  some  efforts  of  good  will  from  it  that  it 
may  not  appear  to  confer  its  gifts  on  one  who 
is  asleep  or  relaxed  in  sluggish  ease,  as  it 
seeks  opportunities  to  show  that  as  the  torpor 
of  man's  sluggishness  is  shaken  off  its  bounty 
is  not  unreasonable,  when  it  bestows  it  on  ac- 
count of  some  desire  and  efforts  to  gain  it. 
And  none  the  less  does  God's  grace  continue 
to  be  free  grace  while  in  return  for  some  small 
and  trivial  efforts  it  bestows  with  priceless 
bounty  such  glory  of  immortality,  and  such 
gifts  of  eternal  bliss.  For  because  the  faith 
of  the  thief  on  the  cross  came  as  the  first 
thing,  no  one  would  say  that  therefore  the 
blessed  abode  of  Paradise  was  not  promised 
to  him  as  a  free  gift,  nor  could  we  hold  that 
it  was  the  penitence  of  King  David's  single 
word  which  he  uttered  :  "  I  have  sinned  against 
the  Lord,"  and  not  rather  the  mercy  of  God 
which  removed  those  two  grievous  sins  of  his, 
so  that  it  was  vouchsafed  to  him  to  hear  from 
the  prophet  Nathan  :  "  The  Lord  also  hath  put 
away  thine  iniquity :  thou  shalt  not  die." 9 
The  fact  then  that  he  added  murder  to  adul- 


i  Is.  xxx.  18. 

2  Ps.  xxxix.  (xl.)  2  ;  cxviii.  (cxix.)  166. 

3  Hosea  vii.  15. 

4  Is.  xxxv.  3. 

0  S.  John  vii.  37. 


G  Ps.  lxviii.  (lxix.)  4. 

7  Cant.  v.  6. 

8  Cant.  iii.  1. 

9  2  Sam.  xii.  13. 


tery,  was  certainly  due  to  free  will :  but  that 
he  was  reproved  by  the  prophet,  this  was  the 
grace  of  Divine  Compassion.  Again  it  was 
his  own  doing  that  he  was  humbled  and  ac- 
knowledged his  guilt  ;  but  that  in  a  very  short 
interval  of  time  he  was  granted  pardon  for 
such  sins,  this  was  the  gift  of  the  merciful 
Lord.  And  what  shall  we  say  of  this  brief 
confession  and  of  the  incomparable  infinity  of 
Divine  reward,  when  it  is  easy  to  see  what  the 
blessed  Apostle,  as  he  fixes  his  gaze  on  the 
greatness  of  future  remuneration,  announced 
on  those  countless  persecutions  of  his  ?  "  for," 
says  he,  "  our  light  affliction  which  is  but  for  a 
moment  worketh  in  us  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory,"  10  of  which  else- 
where he  constantly  affirms,  saying  that  "  the 
sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not  worthy 
to  be  compared  with  the  future  glory  which 
shall  be  revealed  in  us."  u  However  much 
then  human  weakness  may  strive,  it  cannot 
come  up  to  the  future  reward,  nor  by  its  efforts 
so  take  off  from  Divine  grace  that  it  should 
not  always  remain  a  free  gift.  And  therefore 
the  aforesaid  teacher  of  the  Gentiles,  though 
he  bears  his  witness  that  he  had  obtained  the 
grade  of  the  Apostolate  by  the  grace  of  God, 
saying  :  "  By  the  grace  of  God  I  am  what  I 
am,"  yet  also  declares  that  he  himself  had  cor- 
responded to  Divine  Grace,  where  he  says  : 
"  And  Plis  Grace  in  me  was  not  in  vain ;  but  I 
laboured  more  abundantly  than  they  all  :  and 
yet  not  I,  but  the  Grace  of  God  with  me."  12 
For  when  he  says  :  "I  laboured,"  he  shows 
the  effort  of  his  own  will;  when  he  says  :  "yet 
Ttot  I,  but  the  grace  of  God,"  he  points  out  the 
value  of  Divine  protection  ;  when  he  says : 
"  with  me,"  he  affirms  that  it  co-operates  with 
him  when  he  was  not  idle  or  careless,  but 
working  and  making  an  effort. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

How  God  makes  trial  of  the  strength  of  man's  will  by  means 
of  his  temptations. 

And  this  too  we  read  that  the  Divine  right- 
eousness provided  for  in  the  case  of  Job  His 
well  tried  athlete,  when  the  devil  had  challenged 
him  to  single  combat.  For  if  he  had  advanced 
against  his  foe,  not  with  his  own  strength,  but 
solely  with  the  protection  of  God's  .grace ; 
and,  supported  only  by  Divine  aid  without  any 
virtue  of  patience  on  his  own  part,  had  borne 
that  manifold  weight  of  temptations  and  losses, 
contrived  with  all  the  cruelty  of  his  foe,  how 
would  the  devil  have  repeated  with  some  justice 


10  2  Cor.  iv.  17. 


11  Rom.  viii.  18. 


12  1  Cor.  xv.  10. 


THE   THIRD    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    CH^EREMON. 


431 


that  slanderous  speech  which  he  had  previously 
uttered :  "  Doth  Job  serve  God  for  nought  ? 
Hast  Thou  not  hedged  him  in,  and  all  his 
substance  round  about  ?  but  take  away  thine 
hand,"  i.e.,  allow  him  to  fight  with  me  in  his  own 
strength,  "and  he  will  curse  Thee  to  Thy  face."  1 
But  as  after  the  struggle  the  slanderous  foe 
dare  not  give  vent  to  any  such  murmur  as  this, 
he  admitted  that  he  was  vanquished  by  his 
strength  and  not  by  that  of  God  ;  although  too 
we  must  not  hold  that  the  grace  of  God  was 
altogether  wanting  to  him,  which  gave  to  the 
tempter  a  power  of  tempting  in  proportion 
to  that  which  it  knew  that  he  had  of  resist- 
ing, without  protecting  him  from  his  attacks  in 
such  a  way  as  to  leave  no  room  for  human  vir- 
tue, but  only  providing  for  this  ;  viz.,  that  the 
most  fierce  foe  should  not  drive  him  out  of  his 
mind  and  overwhelm  him  when  weakened,  with 
unequal  thoughts  and  in  an  unfair  contest. 
But  that  the  Lord  is  sometimes  wont  to  tempt 
our  faith  that  it  maybe  made  stronger  and  more 
glorious,  we  are  taught  by  the  example  of  the 
centurion  in  the  gospel,  in  whose  case  though 
the  Lord  knew  that  He  would  cure  his  servant 
by  the  power  of  His  word,  yet  He  chose  to  offer 
His  bodily  presence,  saying  :  "  I  will  come  and 
heal  him  :  "  but  when  the  centurion  overcame 
this  offer  of  His  by  the  ardour  of  still  more 
fervent  faith,  and  said :  "  Lord,  I  am  not  worthy 
that  Thou  shouldest  come  under  my  roof  :  but 
speak  the  word  only  and  my  servant  shall  be 
healed,"  the  Lord  marvelled  at  him  and  praised 
him,  and  put  him  before  all  those  of  the  people 
of  Israel  who  had  believed,  saying  :  "  Verily,  I 
say  unto  you,  I  have  not  found  so  great  faith  in 
Israel."  2  For  there  would  have  been  no  ground 
for  praise  or  merit,  if  Christ  had  only  preferred 
in  him  what  He  Himself  had  given.  And  this 
searching  trial  of  faith  we  read  that  the  Divine 
righteousness  brought  about  also  in  the  case 
of  the  grandest  of  the  patriarchs  ;  where  it  is 
said  :  "  And  it  came  to  pass  after  these  things 
that  God  did  tempt  Abraham."  3  For  the  Di- 
vine righteousness  wished  to  try  not  that  faith 
with  which  the  Lord  had  inspired  him,  but  that 
which  when  called  and  enlightened  by  the  Lord 
he  could  show  forth  by  his  own  free  will. 
Wherefore  the  firmness  of  his  faith  was  not 
without  reason  proved,  and  when  the  grace  of 
God,  which  had  for  a  while  left  him  to  prove 
him,  came  to  his  aid,  it  was  said  :  "  Lay  not 
thine  hand  on  the  lad,  and  do  nothing  unto 
him :  for  now  I  know  that  thou  fearest  the  Lord, 
and  for  my  sake  hast  not  spared  thy  beloved 
son."  4  And  that  this  kind  of  temptation  can 
befall  us,  for  the  sake  of  proving  us,  is  suffi- 


1  Job  i.  g— n. 

2  S.  Matt.  viii.  7-10. 


3  Gen.  xxii. 


4  lb.  ver.  12. 


ciently  clearly  foretold  by  the  giver  of  the  Law 
in  Deuteronomy :   "  If  there  rise  in  the  midst 
of  you  a  prophet  or  one  that  saith  he  hath  seen 
a  dream,  and  foretell  a  sign  and  wonder ;  and 
that  come  to  pass  which  he  spoke,  and  he  say 
to  thee :  Let  us  go  and  serve   strange   gods 
which  ye  know  not,   thou  shalt  not  hear  the 
words  of  that  prophet  or  dreamer;  for  the  Lord 
your  God  surely  trieth  thee,  whether  thou  lovest 
Him  with  all  thine  heart,  and  keepest  His  Com- 
mandments, or  no."  5      What    then    follows  ? 
When    God    has    permitted   that    prophet    or 
dreamer  to  arise,   must  we  hold  that  He  will 
protect  those  whose  faith  He  is  purposing  to 
try,  in  such  a  way  as  to  leave  no  place  for  their 
own  free  will,  where  they  can  fight  with  the 
tempter  with  their  own  strength  ?     And  why  is 
it  necessary  for  them  even  to  be  tried  if  He 
knows  them  to  be  so  weak  and  feeble  as  not  to 
be  able  by  their  own  power  to  resist  the  tempter  ? 
But  certainly  the  Divine  righteousness  would 
not  have  permitted  them  to  be  tempted,  unless 
it  knew  that  there  was  within  them  an  equal 
power  of  resistance,  by  which  they  could  by  an 
equitable  judgment  be  found  in  either  result 
either  guilty  or  worthy  of  praise.     To  the  same 
effect    also    is  this  which    the    Apostle    says  : 
"  Therefore    let   him   that   thinketh  he  stand- 
eth,  take  heed  lest  he  fall.     There  hath  no 
temptation  taken  you    but    such    as    is    com- 
mon  to   man.     But  God  is  faithful,  who  will 
not  suffer  you  to  be  tempted  above  that  ye 
are  able,  but  will  with  the  temptation  make 
also  a  way  of  escape  that  ye  may  be  able  to 
bear  it."6     For  when  he  says  "Let  him  that 
standeth  take  heed  lest  he  fall  "  he  sets  free 
will  on  its  guard,  as   he  certainly  knew  that, 
after  grace  had  been  received,  it  could  either 
stand  by  its  exertions  or  fall  through  careless- 
ness.    But  when    he    adds :    "  there   hath    no 
temptation  taken  you  but  what  is  common  to 
man  "  he  chides  their  weakness  and  the  frailty 
of   their  heart  that  is   not  yet    strengthened, 
as    they   could    not    yet     resist    the    attacks 
of   the  hosts  of  spiritual  wickedness,  against 
which  he  knew  that  he   and  those  who  were 
perfect  daily  fought ;  of  which  also  he  says  to 
the   Ephesians  :   "  For  we  wrestle   not  against 
flesh    and   blood,    but    against    principalities, 
against    powers,   against   the    world-rulers    of 
this   darkness,  against  spiritual  wickedness  in 
heavenly  places." 7     But   when   he   subjoins : 
"  But  God  is  faithful  who  will  not  suffer  you  to 
be  tempted  above  that  ye  are  able,"  he  certainly 
is   not  hoping  that  the  Lord  will    not  suffer 
them  to  be  tempted,  but  that  they  may  not  be 
tempted  above  what  they  are    able    to    bear. 
For  the  one   shows  the  power  of  man's  will, 


Deut.  xiii.  1-3. 


1  Cor.  x.  12, '13. 


7  Epli.  vi.  12. 


432 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


the  other  denotes  the  grace  of  the  Lord  who 
moderates  the  violence  of  temptations.  In  all 
these  phrases  then  there  is  proof  that  Divine 
grace  ever  stirs  up  the  will  of  man,  not  so  as 
to  protect  and  defend  it  in  all  things  in  such 
a  way  as  to  cause  it  not  to  fight  by  its  own 
efforts  against  its  spiritual  adversaries,  the 
victor  over  whom  may  set  it  down  to  God's 
grace,  and  the  vanquished  to  his  own  weak- 
ness, and  thus  learn  that  his  hope  is  always 
not  in  his  own  courage  but  in  the  Divine 
assistance,  and  that  he  must  ever  fly  to  his 
Protector.  And  to  prove  this  not  by  our  own 
conjecture  but  by  still  clearer  passages  of  Holy 
Scripture  let  us  consider  what  we  read  in 
Joshuah  the  son  of  Nun  :  "  The  Lord,"  it  says, 
"  left  these  nations  and  would  not  destroythem, 
that  by  them  He  might  try  Israel,  whether  they 
would  keep  the  commandments  of  the  Lord 
their  God,  and  that  they  might  learn  to  fight  with 
their  enemies."  x  And  if  we  may  illustrate  the 
incomparable  mercy  of  our  Creator  from  some- 
thing earthly,  not  as  being  equal  in  kindness, 
but  as  an  illustration  of  mercy  :  if  a  tender  and 
anxious  nurse  carries  an  infant  in  her  bosom 
for  a  long  time  in  order  sometime  to  teach  it 
to  walk,  and  first  allows  it  to  crawl,  then  sup- 
ports it  that  by  the  aid  of  her  right  hand  it 
may  lean  on  its  alternate  steps,  presently 
leaves  it  for  a  little  and  if  she  sees  it  tottering 
at  all,  catches  hold  of  it,  and  grabs  at  it  when 
falling,  when  down  picks  it  up,  and  either 
shields  it  from  a  fall,  or  allows  it  to  fall  lightly, 
and  sets  it  up  again  after  a  tumble,  but  when 
she  has  brought  it  up  to  boyhood  or  the 
strength  of  youth  or  early  manhood,  lays  upon 
it  some  burdens  or  labours  by  which  it  may 
be  not  overwhelmed  but  exercised,  and  allows 
it  to  vie  with  those  of  its  own  age  ;  how  much 
more  does  the  heavenly  Father  of  all  know 
whom  to  carry  in  the  bosom  of  His  grace, 
whom  to  train  to  virtue  in  His  sight  by  the 
exercise  of  free  will,  and  yet  He  helps  him  in 
his  efforts,  hears  him  when  he  calls,  leaves 
him  not  when  he  seeks  Him,  and  sometimes 
snatches  him  from  peril  even  without  his 
knowing  it. 

CHAPTER   XV. 

Of  the  manifold  grace  of  men's  calls. 

And  by  this  it  is  clearly  shown  that  God's 
"judgments  are  inscrutable  and  His  ways  past 
finding  out,"  2  by  which  He  draws  mankind  to 
salvation.  And  this  too  we  can  prove  by  the 
instances  of  calls  in  the  gospels.  For  He 
chose  Andrew  and  Peter  and  the  rest  of  the 


1  Judg.  iii.  i,  2  ;  ii.  22. 


2  Rom.  xi.  33. 


apostles  by  the  free  compassion  of  His  grace 
when  they  were  thinking  nothing  of  their  heal- 
ing and  salvation.  Zacchseus,  when  in  his 
faithfulness  he  was  struggling  to  see  the  Lord, 
and  making  up  for  his  littleness  of  stature  by 
the  height  of  the  sycamore  tree,  He  not  only 
received,  but  actually  honoured  by  the  bles- 
sing of  His  dwelling  with  him.  Paul  even 
against  his  will  and  resisting  He  drew  to  Him. 
Another  He  charged  to  cleave  to  Him  so 
closely  that  when  he  asked  for  the  shortest 
possible  delay  in  order  to  bury  his  father  He 
did  not  grant  it.  To  Cornelius  when  con- 
stantly attending  to  prayers  and  alms  the  way 
of  salvation  was  shown  by  way  of  recompense, 
and  by  the  visitation  of  an  angel  he  was  bid- 
den to  summon  Peter,  and  learn  from  him 
the  words  of  salvation,  whereby  he  might  be 
saved  with  all  his.  And  so  the  manifold  wis- 
dom of  God  grants  with  manifold  and  inscru- 
table kindness  salvation  to  men  ;  and  imparts 
to  each  one  according  to  his  capacity  the 
grace  of  His  bounty,  so  that  He  wills  to  grant 
His  healing  not  according  to  the  uniform  power 
of  His  Majesty  but  according  to  the  measure 
of  the  faith  in  which  He  finds  each  one,  or  as 
He  Himself  has  imparted  it  to  each  one.  For 
when  one  believed  that  for  the  cure  of  his  lep- 
rosy the  will  of  Christ  alone  was  sufficient  He 
healed  him  by  the  simple  consent  of  His  will, 
saying  :  "  I  will,  be  thou  clean."  3  When  an- 
other prayed  that  He  would  come  and  raise 
his  dead  daughter  by  laying  His  hands  on  her, 
He  entered  his  house  as  he  had  hoped,  and 
granted  what  was  asked  of  Him.  When  another 
believed  that  what  was  essential  for  his  salva- 
tion depended  on  His  command,  and  answered  : 
"  Speak  the  word  only,  and  my  servant  shall 
be  healed," 4  He  restored  to  their  former 
strength  the  limbs  that  were  relaxed,  by  the 
power  of  a  word,  saying  :  "  Go  thy  way,  and  as 
thou  hast  believed  so  be  it  unto  thee."  5  To 
others  hoping  for  restoration  from  the  touch 
of  His  hem,  He  granted  rich  gifts  of  healing. 
To  some,  when  asked,  He  bestowed  remedies 
for  their  diseases.  To  others  He  afforded 
the  means  of  healing  unasked  :  others  He 
urged  on  to  hope,  saying  :  "  Wiliest  thou  to  be 
made  whole  ?  "  6  to  others  when  they  were 
without  hope  He  brought  help  spontaneously. 
The  desires  of  some  He  searched  out  before 
satisfying  their  wants,  saying  :  "  What  will  ye 
that  I  should  do  for  you  ?  "  7  To  another  who 
knew  not  the  way  to  obtain  what  he  desired, 
He  showed  it  in  His  kindness,  saying  :  "  If 
thou  believe st  thou  shalt  see  the  glory  of 
God."  8  Among  some  so  richly  did   He  pour 


3  S.  Matt.  viii.  3. 
*  lb.  ver.  8. 


5  lb.  ver.   13. 

6  S.  John  v.  6. 


7  S.  Matt.  xx.  32. 

8  S.  John  xi.  40. 


THE  THIRD  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  CH^REMON. 


433 


forth  the  mighty  works  of  His  cures  that  of 
them  the  Evangelist  says  :  "  And  He  healed 
all  their  sick."  1  But  among  others  the  un- 
fathomable depth  of  Christ's  beneficence  was 
so  stopped  up,  that  it  was  said  :  "  And  Jesus 
could  do  there  no  mighty  works  because  of 
their  unbelief."  2  And  so  the  bounty  of  God 
is  actually  shaped  according  to  the  capacity  of 
man's  faith,  so  that  to  one  it  is  said  :  "  Accor- 
ding to  thy  faith  be  it  unto  thee  :  " 3  and  to 
another :  "  Go  thy  way,  and  as  thou  hast  be- 
lieved so  be  it  unto  thee  ;  " 4  to  another  "  Be  it 
unto  thee  according  as  thou  wilt,"  5  and  again  to 
another  :  "  Thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole."  6 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

Of  the  grace  of  God;  to  the  effect  that  it   transcends  the 
narrow  limits  of  human  faith. 

But  let  no  one  imagine  that  we  have  brought 
forward  these  instances  to  try  to  make  out 
that  the  chief  share  in  our  salvation  rests  with 
our  faith,  according  to  the  profane  notion  of 
some  who  attribute  everything  to  free  will  and 
lay  down  that  the  grace  of  God  is  dispensed 
in  accordance  with  the  desert  of  each  man  : 
but  we  plainly  assert  our  unconditional  opinion 
that  the  grace  of  God  is  superabounding,  and 
sometimes  overflows  the  narrow  limits  of  man's 
lack  of  faith.  And  this,  as  we  remember, 
happened  in  the  case  of  the  ruler  in  the  gospel, 
who,  as  he  believed  that  it  was  an  easier  thing 
for  his  son  to  be  cured  when  sick  than  to  be 
raised  when  dead,  implored  the  Lord  to  come 
at  once,  saying  :  "  Lord,  come  down  ere  my 
child  die  ;  "  and  though  Christ  reproved  his 
lack  of  faith  with  these  words  :  "  Except  ye  see 
signs  and  wonders  ye  will  not  believe,"  yet  He 
did  not  manifest  the  grace  of  His  Divinity  in 
proportion  to  the  weakness  of  his  faith,  nor 
did  He  expell  the  deadly  disease  of  the  fever 
by  His  bodily  presence,  as  the  man  believed  he 
would,  but  by  the  word  of  His  power,  saying  : 
"Go  thy  way,  thy  son  liveth."7  And  we  read  also 
that  the  Lord  poured  forth  this  superabundance 
of  grace  in  the  case  of  the  cure  of  the  paralytic, 
when,  though  he  only  asked  for  the  healing  of 
the  weakness  by  which  his  body  was  enervated, 
He  first  brought  health  to  the  soul  by  saying  : 
"Son,  be  of  good  cheer,  thy  sins  be  forgiven 
thee."  After  which,  when  the  scribes  did  not 
believe  that  He  could  forgive  men's  sins,  in  order 
to  confound  their  incredulity,  He  set  free  by 
the  power  of  His  word  the  man's  limb,  and  put 
an  end  to  his  disease  of  paralysis,  by  saying  : 


1  S.  Matt.  xiv.  14. 

2  S.  Mark  vi.  5,  6. 

3  S.  Matt.  ix.  29. 


4  S.  Matt.  viii.  13. 
c  S.  Matt.  xv.  28. 


6  S.  Luke  xviii.  42. 

7  S.  John  iv.  4S-50. 


"  Why  think  ye  evil  in  your  hearts  ?  Whether 
is  easier  to  say,  thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee,  or 
to  say,  arise  and  walk  ?  But  that  ye  may  know 
that  the  Son  of  man  hath  power  on  earth 
to  forgive  sins,  then  saith  He  to  the  sick  of 
the  palsy :  Arise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  go  unto 
thine  house."  8  And  in  the  same  way  in  the 
case  of  the  man  who  had  been  lying  for  thirty- 
eight  years  near  the  edge  of  the  pool,  and  hop- 
ing for  a  cure  from  the  moving  of  the  water,  He 
showed  the  princely  character  of  His  bounty 
unasked.  For  when  in  His  wish  to  arouse 
him  for  the  saving  remedy,  He  had  said  to 
him  :  "  wiliest  thou  to  be  made  whole,"  and 
when  the  man  complained  of  his  lack  of 
human  assistance  and  said :  "  I  have  no  man 
to  put  me  into  the  pool  when  the  water  is 
troubled,"  the  Lord  in  His  pity  granted  pardon 
to  his  unbelief  and  ignorance,  and  restored 
him  to  his  former  health,  not  in  the  way  which 
he  expected,  but  in  the  way  which  He  Him- 
self willed,  saying  :  "  Arise,  take  up  thy  bed 
and  go  unto  thine  house."  9  And  what  won- 
der if  these  acts  are  told  of  the  Lord's  power, 
when  Divine  grace  has  actually  wrought  simi- 
lar works  by  means  of  His  servants  !  For 
when  Peter  and  John  were  entering  the  temple, 
when  the  man  who  was  lame  from  his  mother's 
womb  and  had  no  idea  how  to  walk,  asked  an 
alms,  they  gave  him  not  the  miserable  coppers 
which  the  sick  man  asked  for,  but  the  power 
to  walk,  and  when  he  was  only  expecting  the 
smallest  of  gifts  to  console  him,  enriched  him 
with  the  prize  of  unlooked  for  health,  as 
Peter  said  :  "  Silver  and  gold  have  I  none  : 
but  such  as  I  have,  give  I  unto  thee.  In  the 
name  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Nazareth,  rise  up  and 
walk."  1G 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Of  the  inscrutable  providence  of  God. 

By  those  instances  then  which  we  have 
brought  forward  from  the  gospel  records  we 
can  very  clearly  perceive  that  God  brings 
salvation  to  mankind  in  diverse  and  innumer- 
able methods  and  inscrutable  ways,  and  that 
He  stirs  up  the  course  of  some,  who  are  already 
wanting  it,  and  thirsting  for  it,  to  greater  zeal, 
while  He  forces  some  even  against  their  will, 
and  resisting.  And  that  at  one  time  He  gives 
his  assistance  for  the  fulfilment  of  those  things 
which  he  sees  that  we  desire  for  our  good, 
while  at  another  time  He  puts  into  us  the  very 
beginnings  of  holy  desire,  and  grants  both  the 
commencement  of  a  good  work  and  perse- 
verance in  it.      Hence   it  comes   that  in   our 


8  S.  Matt.  ix.  2-6. 


9  S.  John  v.  6-8. 


10  Acts  iii.  6. 


434 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


prayers  we  proclaim  God  as  not  only  our  Pro- 
tector and  Saviour,  but  actually  as  our  Helper 
and  Sponsor.  For  whereas  He  first  calls  us 
to  Him,  and  while  we  are  still  ignorant  and 
unwilling,  draws  us  towards  salvation,  He  is 
our  Protector  and  Saviour,  but  whereas  when 
we  are  already  striving,  He  is  wont  to  bring 
us  help,  and  to  receive  and  defend  those  who 
fly  to  Him  for  refuge,  He  is  termed  our  Spon- 
sor and  Refuge.  Finally  the  blessed  Apostle 
when  revolving  in  his  mind  this  manifold 
bounty  of  God's  providence,  as  he  sees  that 
he  has  fallen  into  some  vast  and  boundless 
ocean  of  God's  goodness,  exclaims:  "O  the 
depth  of  the  riches  of  the  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge of  God  !  How  inscrutable  are  the  judg- 
ments of  God  and  His  ways  past  finding  out ! 
For  who  hath  known  the  mind  of  the  Lord  ?  "  1 
Whoever  then  imagines  that  he  can  by  hu- 
man reason  fathom  the  depths  of  that  incon- 
ceivable abyss,  will  be  trying  to  explain  away 
the  astonishment  at  that  knowledge,  at  which 
that  great  and  mighty  teacher  of  the  gentiles 
was  awed.  For  if  a  man  thinks  that  he  can 
either  conceive  in  his  mind  or  discuss  ex- 
haustively the  dispensation  of  God  whereby 
He  works  salvation  in  men,  he  certainly  im- 
pugns the  truth  of  the  Apostle's  words  and 
asserts  with  profane  audacity  that  His  judg- 
ments can  be  scrutinized,  and  His  ways  searched 
out.  This  providence  and  love  of  God  there- 
fore, which  the  Lord  in  His  unwearied  good- 
ness vouchsafes  to  show  us,  He  compares  to 
the  tenderest  heart  of  a  kind  mother,  as  He 
wishes  to  express  it  by  a  figure  of  human 
affection,  and  finds  in  His  creatures  no  such 
feeling  of  love,  to  which  he  could  better  com- 
pare it.  And  He  uses  this  example,  because 
nothing  dearer  can  be  found  in  human  nature, 
saying  :  "  Can  a  mother  forget  her  child,  that 
she  should  not  have  compassion  on  the  son 
of  her  womb  ?  "  But  not  content  with  this 
comparison  He  at  once  goes  beyond  it,  and 
subjoins  these  words  :  "  And  though  she  may 
forget,  yet  will  not  I  forget  thee."  2 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  decision  of  the  fathers  that  free  will  is  not  equal  to  save 
a  man. 

And  from  this  it  is  clearly  gathered  by 
those  who,  led  not  by  chattering  words  but 
by  experience,  measure  the  magnitude  of  grace, 
and  the  paltry  limits  of  man's  will,  that  "  the 
race  is  not  to  the  swift  nor  the  battle  to  the 
strong,   nor  food  to  the  wise,   nor  riches  to 


1  Rom.  xi.  33,  34. 


2  Is.  xlix.  15. 


the  prudent,  nor  grace  to  the  learned,"  but 
that  "  all  these  worketh  that  one  and  the  self- 
same Spirit,  dividing  to  every  man  severally 
as  He  will."  3  And  therefore  it  is  proved  by 
no  doubtful  faith  but  by  experience  which 
can  (so  to  speak)  be  laid  hold  of,  that  God  the 
Father  of  all  things  worketh  indifferently  all 
things  in  all,  as  the  Apostle  says,  like  some 
most  kind  father  and  most  benign  physician  ; 
and  that  now  He  puts  into  us  the  very  begin- 
nings of  salvation,  and  gives  to  each  the  zeal 
of  his  free  will ;  and  now  grants  the  carrying 
out  of  the  work,  and  the  perfecting  of  good- 
ness ;  and  now  saves  men,  even  against  their 
will  and  without  their  knowledge,  from  ruin 
that  is  close  at  hand,  and  a  headlong  fall ;  and 
now  affords  them  occasions  and  opportunities 
of  salvation,  and  wards  off  headlong  and 
violent  attacks  from  purposes  that  would  bring 
death  ;  and  assists  some  who  are  already  wil- 
ling and  running,  while  He  draws  others  who 
are  unwilling  and  resisting,  and  forces  them 
to  a  good  will.  But  that,  when  we  do  not 
always  resist  or  remain  persistently  unwilling, 
everything  is  granted  to  us  by  God,  and  that 
the  main  share  in  our  salvation  is  to  be  as- 
cribed not  to  the  merit  of  our  own  works  but 
to  heavenly  grace,  we  are  thus  taught  by  the 
words  of  the  Lord  Himself :  "  And  you  shall 
remember  your  ways  and  all  your  wicked 
doings  with  which  you  have  been  defiled  ;  and 
you  shall  be  displeased  with  yourselves  in  your 
own  sight  for  all  your  wicked  deeds  which  you 
have  committed.  And  you  shall  know  that  I 
am  the  Lord,  when  I  shall  have  done  well  by 
you  for  My  own  name's  sake,  not  according 
to  your  evil  ways,  nor  according  to  your  wicked 
deeds,  O  house  of  Israel."  4  And  therefore  it 
is  laid  down  by  all  the  Catholic  fathers  who 
have  taught  perfection  of  heart  not  by  empty 
disputes  of  words,  but  in  deed  and  act,  that 
the  first  stage  in  the  Divine  gift  is  for  each 
man  to  be  inflamed  with  the  desire  of  every- 
thing that  is  good,  but  in  such  a  way  that  the 
choice  of  free  will  is  open  to  either  side  :  and 
that  the  second  stage  in  Divine  grace  is  for 
the  aforesaid  practices  of  virtue  to  be  able 
to  be  performed,  but  in  such  a  way  that  the 
possibilities  of  the  will  are  not  destroyed : 
the  third  stage  also  belongs  to  the  gifts  of 
God,  so  that  it  may  be  held  by  the  persistence 
of  the  goodness  already  acquired,  and  in  such 
a  way  that  the  liberty  may  not  be  surrendered 
and  experience  bondage.  For  the  God  of  all 
must  be  held  to  work  in  all,  so  as  to  incite, 
protect,  and  strengthen,  but  not  to  take  away 
the  freedom  of  the  will  which  He  Himself 
has  once  given.     If  however  any  more  subtle 

3  Eccl.  ix.  11  (LXX.);  1  Cor.  xii.  11.       4  Ezek.  xx.  43,  44- 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    NESTEROS. 


435 


inference  of  man's  argumentation  and  reason- 
ing seems  opposed  to  this  interpretation,  it 
should  be  avoided  rather  than  brought  for- 
ward to  the  destruction  of  the  faith  (for  we 
gain  not  faith  from  understanding,  but  under- 
standing from  faith,  as  it  is  written  :  "  Except 
ye  believe,  ye  will  not  understand  "  x)  for  how 


God  works  all  things  in  us  and  yet  everything 
can  be  ascribed  to  free  will,  cannot  be  fully 
grasped  by  the  mind  and  reason  of  man. 

Strengthened  by  this  food  the  blessed 
Chaeremon  prevented  us  from  feeling  the  toil 
of  so  difficult  a  journey. 


XIV. 
THE   FIRST  CONFERENCE   OF  ABBOT   NESTEROS. 

ON  SPIRITUAL  KNOWLEDGE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  words  of  Abbot  Nesteros  on  the  knowledge  of  the 
religious. 

The  order  of  our  promise  and  course  de- 
mands that  there  should  follow  the  instruction 
of  Abbot  Nesteros,2  a  man  of  excellence  in  all 
points  and  of  the  greatest  knowledge  :  who 
when  he  had  seen  that  we  had  committed  some 
parts  of  Holy  Scripture  to  memory  and  desired 
to  understand  them,  addressed  us  in  these 
words.  There  are  indeed  many  different  kinds 
of  knowledge  in  this  world,  since  there  is  as 
great  a  variety  of  them  as  there  is  of  the  arts 
and  sciences.  But,  while  all  are  either  utterly 
useless  or  only  useful  for  the  good  of  this  pre- 
sent life,  there  is  yet  none  which  has  not  its 
own  system  and  method  for  learning  it,  by 
which  it  can  be  grasped  by  those  who  seek  it. 
If  then  those  arts  are  guided  by  certain  spe- 
cial rules  for  their  publication,  how  much  more 
does  the  system  and  expression  of  our  religion, 
which  tends  to  the  contemplation  of  the  secrets 
of  invisible  mysteries,  and  seeks  no  present 
gain  but  the  reward  of  an  eternal  recompense, 
depend  on  a  fixed  order  and  scheme.  And  the 
knowledge  of  this  is  twofold:  first,  nqaxxiK^ 
i.  e.,  practical,  which  is  brought  about  by  an 
improvement  of  morals  and  purification  from 
faults  :  secondly,  dewgyTtx^  which  consists  in 
the  contemplation  of  things  Divine  and  the 
knowledge  of  most  sacred  thoughts. 


CHAPTER    II. 

On  grasping  the  knowledge  of  spiritual  things. 

Whoever  then  would  arrive  at  this  theore- 
tical  knowledge    must   first    pursue    practical 


1  Is.  vii.  9. 

2  Nesteros.    In  the  Vitse  Patrum  there  are  some  stories  of  one  or 
two  of  this  name  (for  it  is  not  quite  clear  whether  they  are  distinct 


knowledge  with  all  his  might  and  main.  For 
this  practical  knowledge  can  be  acquired  with- 
out theoretical,  but  theoretical  cannot  possibly 
be  gained  without  practical.  For  there  are 
certain  stages,  so  distinct,  and  arranged  in 
such  a  way  that  man's  humility  may  be  able  to 
mount  on  high ;  and  if  these  follow  each  other 
in  turn  in  the  order  of  which  we  have  spoken, 
man  can  attain  to  a  height  to  which  he  could 
not  fly,  if  the  first  step  were  wanting.  In  vain 
then  does  one  strive  for  the  vision  of  God,  who 
does  not  shun  the  stains  of  sins  :  "  For  the 
spirit  of  God  hates  deception,  and  dwells  not 
in  a  body  subject  to  sins."  3 


CHAPTER  III. 

How  practical  perfection  depends  on  a  double  system. 

But  this  practical  perfection  depends  on  a 
double  system  ;  for  its  first  method  is  to  know 
the  nature  of  all  faults  and  the  manner  of  their 
cure.  Its  second,  to  discover  the  order  of  the 
virtues,  and  form  our  mind  by  their  perfection 
so  that  it  may  be  obedient  to  them,  not  as  if  it 
were  forced  and  subject  to  some  fierce  sway, 
but  as  if  it  delighted  in  its  natural  good,  and 
throve  upon  it,  and  mounted  by  that  steep  and 
narrow  way  with  real  pleasure.  For  in  what 
way  will  one,  who  has  neither  succeeded  in 
understanding  the  nature  of  his  own  faults,  nor 
tried  to  eradicate  them,  be  able  to  gain  an  un- 
derstanding of  virtues,  which  is  the  second 
stage  of  practical  training,  or  the  mysteries  of 
spiritual  and  heavenly  things,  which  exist  in 
the  higher  stage  of  theoretical  knowledge  ? 
For  it  will  necessarily  be  maintained  that  he 


persons  or  one  and  the  same  to  whom  the  stories  refer).  One  was 
known  as  6  /^eyas,  an(j  was  a  friend  of  St.  Antony,  and  is  sup- 
posed by  some  to  be  the  same  whose  Conferences  Cassian  here 
relates,  but  nothing  certain  is  known  of  him.         3  Wisdom  i.  4,  5. 


43' 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


cannot  advance  to  more  lofty  heights  who  has 
not  surmounted  the  lower  ones,  and  much  less 
will  he  be  able  to  grasp  those  things  that  are 
without,  who  has  not  succeeded  in  understand- 
ing what  is  within  his  comprehension.  But 
you  should  know  that  we  must  make  an  effort 
with  a  twofold  purpose  in  our  exertion  ;  both 
for  the  expulsion  of  vice,  and  for  the  attainment 
of  virtue.  And  this  we  do  not  gather  from  our 
own  conjecture,  but  are  taught  by  the  words 
of  Him  who  alone  knows  the  strength  and 
method  of  His  work  :  "  Behold,"  He  says  :  "  I 
have  set  thee  this  day  over  the  nations  and 
over  kingdoms,  to  root  up,  and  to  pull  down, 
and  to  waste,  and  to  destroy,  and  to  build, 
and  to  plant.  "  *  He  points  out  that  for 
getting  rid  of  noxious  things  four  things  are 
requisite ;  viz.,  to  root  up,  to  pull  down,  to 
waste,  and  to  destroy  :  but  for  the  performance 
of  what  is  good,  and  the  acquisition  of  what 
pertains  to  righteousness  only  to  build  and  to 
plant.  Whence  it  is  perfectly  evident  that  it 
is  a  harder  thing  to  tear  up  and  eradicate  the 
inveterate  passions  of  body  and  soul  than  to 
introduce  and  plant  spiritual  virtues. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

How  practical  life  is  distributed  among  many  different 
professions  and  interests. 

This  practical  life  then,  which  as  has  been 
said  rests  on  a  double  system,  is  distributed 
among  many  different  professions  and  inter- 
ests. For  some  make  it  their  whole  pur- 
pose to  aim  at  the  secrecy  of  an  anchorite, 
and  purity  of  heart,  as  we  know  that  in  the 
past  Elijah  and  Elisha,  and  in  our  own  day 
the  blessed  Antony  and  others  who  followed 
with  the  same  object,  were  joined  most  closely 
to  God  by  the  silence  of  solitude.  Some 
have  given  all  their  efforts  and  interests  towards 
the  system  of  the  brethren  and  the  watchful 
care  of  the  ccenobium ;  as  we  remember  that 
recently  Abbot  John,  who  presided  over  a  big 
monastery  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  city 
Thmuis,2  and  some  other  men  of  like  merits 
were  eminent  with  the  signs  of  Apostles. 
Some  are  pleased  with  the  kindly  service  of 
the  guest  house  and  reception,  by  which  in 
the  past  the  patriarch  Abraham  and  Lot 
pleased  the  Lord,  and  recently  the  blessed 
Macarius,3    a    man    of    singular   courtesy  and 

1  Jer.  i.  10. 

2  It  is  doubtful  whether  this  is  the  same  John  who  was  mentioned 
in  the  Institutes  V.  xxviii.  and  to  whom  the  xixth  Conference  is 
assigned.  Thmuis  is  the  Coptic  Thmoui,  a  little  to  the  south  of  the 
Mendesian  branch  of  the  Nile.  See  Rawlinson's  note  to  Herod,  ii. 
c.  166  and  cf.  Ptolemy  IV.  v.  §  51. 

3  On  the  two  Macarii  see  the  note  on  the  Institutes  V.  xli. 


patience  who  presided  over  the  guest  house 
at  Alexandria  in  such  away  as  to  be  considered 
inferior  to  none  of  those  who  aimed  at  the 
retirement  of  the  desert.  Some  choose  the 
care  of  the  sick,  others  devote  themselves 
to  intercession,  which  is  offered  up  for  the 
oppressed  and  afflicted,  or  give  themselves  up 
to  teaching,  or  give  alms  to  the  poor,  and 
flourish  among  men  of  excellence  and  renown, 
by  reason  of  their  love  and  goodness. 


CHAPTER   V. 

On  perseverance  in  the  line  that  has  been  chosen. 

Wherefore  it  is  good  and  profitable  for 
each  one  to  endeavour  with  all  his  might  and 
main  to  attain  perfection  in  the  work  that 
has  been  begun,  according  to  the  line  which 
he  has  chosen  as  the  grace  which  he  has 
received  ;  and  while  he  praises  and  admires 
the  virtues  of  others,  not  to  swerve  from  his 
own  line  which  he  has  once  for  all  chosen,  as 
he  knows  that,  as  the  Apostle  says,  the  body 
of  the  Church  indeed  is  one,  but  the  members 
many,  and  that  it  has  "  gifts  differing  accord- 
ing to  the  grace  which  is  given  us,  whether 
prophecy,  according  to  the  proportion  of  the 
faith,  whether  ministry,  in  ministering,  or  he 
that  teacheth,  in  doctrine,  or  he  that  exhort- 
eth  in  exhortation,  he  that  giveth,  in  sim- 
plicity, he  that  ruleth,  with  carefulness,  he 
that  showeth  mercy,  with  cheerfulness."  4  For 
no  members  can  claim  the  offices  of  other 
members,  because  the  eyes  cannot  perform 
the  duties  of  the  hands,  nor  the  nostrils  of 
the  ears.  And  so  not  all  are  Apostles,  not 
all  prophets,  not  all  doctors,  not  all  have  the 
gifts  of  healing,  not  all  speak  with  tongues,  not 
all  interpret.5 


CHAPTER   VI. 

How  the  weak  are  easily  moved. 

For  those  who  are  not  yet  settled  in  the  line 
which  they  have  taken  up  are  often,  when  they 
hear  some  praised  for  different  interests  and 
virtues,  so  excited  by  the  praise  of  them  that 
they  try  forthwith  to  imitate  their  method  :  and 
in  this  human  weakness  is  sure  to  expend  its 
efforts  to  no  purpose.  For  it  is  an  impossibility 
for  one  and  the  same  man  to  excel  at  once  in 
all  those  good  deeds  which  I  enumerated  above. 
And  if  anyone  is  anxious  equally  to  affect  them 
all,  he  is  quite  sure  to  come  to  this ;  viz.,  that 
while  he  pursues  them  all,  he  will  not  thoroughly 


4  Rom.  xii.  4-S. 


5  Cf.  1  Cor.  xii.  28 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   NESTEROS. 


437 


succeed  in  any  one,  and  will  lose  more  than  he 
will  gain  from  this  changing  and  shifting  about. 
For  in  many  ways  men  advance  towards  God, 
and  so  each  man  should  complete  that  one 
which  he  has  once  fixed  upon,  never  chan- 
ging the  course  of  his  purpose,  so  that  he  may 
be  perfect  in  whatever  line  of  life  his  may  be. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

An  instance  of  chastity  which  teaches  us  that  all  men  should 
not  be  emulous  of  all  things. 

For  apart  from  that  loss,  which  we  have  said 
that  a  monk  incurs  who  wants  in  light-minded- 
ness to  pass  from  one  pursuit  to  another,  there 
is  a  risk  of  death  that  is  hence  incurred,  because 
at  times  things  which  are  rightly  done  by  some 
are  wrongly  taken  by  others  as  an  example, 
and  things  which  turned  out  well  for  some,  are 
found  to  be  injurious  to  others.  For,  to  give 
an  instance,  it  is  as  if  one  wished  to  imitate 
the  good  deed  of  that  man,  which  Abbot  John 
is  wont  to  bring  forward,  not  for  the  sake  of 
imitating  him  but  simply  out  of  admiration  for 
him  ;  for  one  came  to  the  aforesaid  old  man  in 
a  secular  dress  and  when  he  had  brought  him 
some  of  the  first  fruits  of  his  crops,  he  found 
some  one  there  possessed  by  a  most  fierce 
devil.  And  this  one  though  he  scorned  the 
adjurations  and  commands  of  Abbot  John,  and 
vowed  that  he  would  never  at  his  bidding  leave 
the  body  which  he  had  occupied,  yet  was  terri- 
fied at  the  coming  of  this  other,  and  departed 
with  a  most  humble  utterance  of  his  name. 
And  the  old  man  marvelled  not  a  little  at  his 
so  evident  grace  and  was  the  more  astonished 
at  him  because  he  saw  that  he  had  on  a  secular 
dress  ;  and  so  began  carefully  to  ask  of  him 
the  manner  of  his  life  and  pursuit.  And  when 
he  said  that  he  was  living  in  the  world  and 
bound  by  the  ties  of  marriage,  the  blessed  John, 
considering  in  his  mind  the  greatness  of  his 
virtue  and  grace,  searched  out  still  more  care- 
fully what  his  manner  of  life  might  be.  He 
declared  that  he  was  a  countryman,  and  that  he 
sought  his  food  by  the  daily  toil  of  his  hands, 
and  was  not  conscious  of  anything  good  about 
him  except  that  he  never  went  forth  to  his 
work  in  the  fields  in  the  morning  nor  came 
home  in  the  evening  without  having  returned 
thanks  in  Church  for  the  food  of  his  daily  life, 
to  God  Who  gave  it ;  and  that  he  had  never 
used  any  of  his  crops  without  having  first  offered 
to  God  their  first  fruits  and  tithes  ;  and  that 
he  had  never  driven  his  oxen  over  the  bounds 
of  another's  harvest  without  having  first  muzzled 
them  that  his  neighbour  might  not  sustain  the 
slightest  loss  through  his  carelessness.     And 


when  these  things  did  not  seem  to  Abbot  John 
sufficient  to  procure  such  grace  as  that  with 
which  he  saw  that  he  was  endowed,  and  he 
inquired  of  him  and  investigated  what  it  was 
which  could  be  connected  with  the  merits  of 
such  grace,  he  was  induced  by  respect  for  such 
anxious  inquiries  to  confess  that,  when  he 
wanted  to  be  professed  as  a  monk,  he  had  been 
compelled  by  force  and  his  parents'  command, 
twelve  years  before  to  take  a  wife,  who,  with- 
out any  body  to  that  day  being  aware  of  it,  was 
kept  by  him  as  a  virgin  in  the  place  of  a  sister. 
And  when  the  old  man  heard  this,  he  was  so 
overcome  with  admiration  that  he  announced 
publicly  in  his  presence  that  it  was  not  without 
good  reason  that  the  devil  who  had  scorned 
him  himself,  could  not  endure  the  presence  of 
this  man,  whose  virtue  he  himself,  not  only  in 
the  ardour  of  youth,  but  even  now,  would  not 
dare  to  aim  at  without  risk  of  his  chastity. 
And  though  Abbot  John  would  tell  this  story 
with  the  utmost  admiration,  yet  he  never  ad- 
vised any  monk  to  try  this  plan  as  he  knew 
that  many  things  which  are  rightly  done  by 
some  involved  others  who  imitate  them  in  great 
danger,  and  that  that  cannot  be  tried  by  all, 
which  the  Lord  bestowed  upon  a  few  by  a 
special  gift. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Of  spiritual  knowledge. 

But  to  return  to  the  explanation  of  the 
knowledge  from  which  our  discourse  took  its 
rise.  Thus,  as  we  said  above,  practical  know- 
ledge is  distributed  among  many  subjects  and 
interests,  but  theoretical  is  divided  into  two 
parts,  i.e.,  the  historical  interpretation  and  the 
spiritual  sense.  Whence  also  Solomon  when 
he  had  summed  up  the  manifold  grace  of  the 
Church,  added:  "for  all  who  are  with  her  are 
clothed  with  double  garments."  1  But  of  spiri- 
tual knowledge  there  are  three  kinds,  tropologi- 
cal,  allegorical,  anagogical,2  of  which  we  read 
as  follows  in  Proverbs :  "  But  do  you  describe 
these  things  to  yourself  in  three  ways  according 


1  Prov.  xxxi.  21  (LXX.). 

2  The  meaning  of  the  four  senses  of  Scripture  here  spoken  of; 
viz.,  the  historical,  tropological,  allegorical,  and  anagogical,  is  well 
summed  up  in  these  lines  : 

Litera,  gesta  docet ;  quid  credas,  allegoria  ; 

Moralis,  quid  agas  ;  quo  tendas  anagogia. 
Or,  as  the  lines  are  sometimes  given  : 

Litera  scripta  docet ;  quod  credas,  allegoria  ; 

Quod  speres,  anagoge.:  quid  agas,  tropologia. 
Both  Origen  and  Jerome  had  spoken  of  the  threefold  sense  of 
Scripture,  referring  to  the  LXX.  rendering  of  Proverbs  xxii.  20 
(which  Cassian  quotes  below):  but  in  general  the  Latin  Fathers,  and 
the  Schoolmen  after  them,  separated  the  third  of  Origen's  senses  : 
viz.,  the  spiritual,  into  two,  the  allegorical  and  the  anagogical :  and 
so  the  "  fourfold  "  sense  became  the  established  method  of  interpre- 
tation in  the  West. 


433 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


to  the  largeness  of  your  heart."  *  And  so  the 
history  embraces  the  knowledge  of  things  past 
and  visible,  as  it  is  repeated  in  this  way  by  the 
Apostle  :  "  For  it  is  written  that  Abraham  had 
two  sons,  the  one  by  a  bondwoman,  the  other  by 
a  free  :  but  he  who  was  of  the  bondwoman  was 
bom  after  the  flesh,  but  he  who  was  of  the  free 
was  by  promise."  But  to  the  allegory  belongs 
what  follows,  for  what  actually  happened  is  said 
to  have  prefigured  the  form  of  some  mystery : 
"  For  these,"  says  he,  "  are  the  two  covenants, 
the  one  from  Mount  Sinai,  which  gendereth 
into  bondage,  which  is  Agar.  For  Sinai  is  a 
mountain  in  Arabia,  which  is  compared  to  Je- 
rusalem which  now  is,  and  is  in  bondage  with 
her  children."  But  the  anagogical  sense  rises 
from  spiritual  mysteries  even  to  still  more  sub- 
lime and  sacred  secrets  of  heaven,  and  is  sub- 
joined by  the  Apostle  in  these  words  :  "  But 
Jerusalem  which  is  above  is  free,  which  is  the 
mother  of  us.  For  it  is  written,  Rejoice,  thou 
barren  that  bearest  not,  break  forth  and  cry, 
thou  that  travailest  not,  for  many  are  the  chil- 
dren of  the  desolate  more  than  of  her  that  hath 
an  husband."  2  The  tropological  sense  is  the 
moral  explanation  which  has  to  do  with  im- 
provement of  life  and  practical  teaching,  as  if 
we  were  to  understand  by  these  two  cove- 
nants practical  and  theoretical  instruction,  or 
at  any  rate  as  if  we  were  to  want  to  take  Jeru- 
salem or  Sion  as  the  soul  of  man,  according  to 
this  :  "  Praise  the  Lord,  O  Jerusalem  :  praise 
thy  God,  O  Sion."  8  And  so  these  four  pre- 
viously mentioned  figures  coalesce,  if  we  desire, 
in  one  subject,  so  that  one  and  the  same  Jeru- 
salem can  be  taken  in  four  senses  :  historically, 
as  the  city  of  the  Jews  ;  allegorically  as  the 
Church  of  Christ,  anagogically  as  the  heavenly 
city  of  God  "which  is  the  mother  of  us  all," 
tropologically,  as  the  soul  of  man,  which  is 
frequently  subject  to  praise  or  blame  from  the 
Lord  under  this  title.  Of  these  four  kinds  of 
interpretation  the  blessed  Apostle  speaks  as 
follows  :  "  But  now,  brethren,  if  I  come  to  you 
speaking  with  tongues  what  shall  I  profit  you 
unless  I  speak  to  you  either  by  revelation  or  by 
knowledge  or  by  prophecy  or  by  doctrine  ?  "  4 
For  "revelation  "  belongs  to  allegory  whereby 
what  is  concealed  under  the  historical  narra- 
tive is  revealed  in  its  spiritual  sense  and  inter- 
pretation, as  for  instance  if  we  tried  to  expound 
how  "all  our  fathers  were  under  the  cloud  and 
were  all  baptized  unto  Moses  in  the  cloud  and 
in  the  sea,"  and  how  they  "all  ate  the  same 
spiritual  meat  and  drank  the  same  spiritual 
drink  from  the  rock  that  followed  them.  But 
the  rock  was  Christ."  5  And  this  explanation 
where   there  is  a  comparison  of  the   figure  of 


i  Prov.  xxii.  20  (LXX.). 
1  Gai.  iv.  22-27. 


3  P"s.  cxlvii.  12.         E  1  Cor.  x.  1-4. 

4  1  Cor.  xiv.  6. 


the  body  and  blood  of  Christ  which  we  receive 
daily,  contains  the  allegorical  sense.  But  the 
knowledge,  which  is  in  the  same  way  men- 
tioned by  the  Apostle,  is  tropological,  as  by  it 
we  can  by  a  careful  study  see  of  all  things  that 
have  to  do  with  practical  discernment  whether 
they  are  useful  and  good,  as  in  this  case,  when 
we  are  told  to  judge  of  our  own  selves  "  whether 
it  is  fitting  for  a  woman  to  pray  to  God  with 
her  head  uncovered."  6  And  this  system,  as  has 
been  said,  contains  the  moral  meaning.  So 
"  prophecy  "  which  the  Apostle  puts  in  the  third 
place,  alludes  to  the  anagogical  sense  by 
which  the  words  are  applied  to  things  future 
and  invisible,  as  here  :  "  But  we  would  not  have 
you  ignorant,  brethren,  concerning  those  that 
sleep  :  that  ye  be  not  sorry  as  others  also  who 
have  no  hope.  For  if  we  believe  that  Christ 
died  and  rose  again,  even  so  them  also  which 
sleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  Him.  For 
this  we  say  to  you  by  the  word  of  God,  that  we 
which  are  alive  at  the  coming  of  the  Lord  shall 
not  prevent  those  that  sleep  in  Christ,  for  the 
Lord  Himself  shall  descend  from  heaven  with 
a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the  archangel  and 
with  the  trump  of  God;  and  the  dead  in  Christ 
shall  rise  first."7  In  which  kind  of  exhorta- 
tion the  figure  of  anagoge  is  brought  forward. 
But  "  doctrine  "  unfolds  the  simple  course  of 
historical  exposition,  under  which  is  contained 
no  more  secret  sense,  but  what  is  declared  by 
the  very  words  :  as  in  this  passage  :  "  For  I 
delivered  unto  you  first  of  all  what  I  also 
received,  how  that  Christ  died  for  our  sins 
according  to  the  Scriptures,  and  that  He  was 
buried,  and  that  He  rose  again  on  the  third 
day,  and  that  he  was  seen  of  Cephas  ;  "  8  and  : 
"  God  sent  His  Son,  made  of  a  woman,  made 
under  the  law,  to  redeem  them  that  were  under 
the  law  ;  "  9  or  this  :  "  Hear,  O  Israel,  the  Lord 
the  God  is  one  Lord."  10 


CHAPTER    IX. 

How  from  practical  knowledge  we  must  proceed  to  spiritual. 

Wherefore  if  you  are  anxious  to  attain  to 
the  light  of  spiritual  knowledge,  not  wrongly 
for  an  idle  boast  but  for  the  sake  of  being 
made  better  men,  you  are  first  inflamed  with 
the  longing  for  that  blessedness,  of  which  we 
read  :  "  blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart  for  they 
shall  see  God,"  u  that  you  may  also  attain  to 
that  of  which  the  angel  said  to  Daniel  :  "  But 
they  that  are  learned  shall  shine  as  the  splen- 
dor of  the  firmament  :  and  they  that  turn 
many  to   righteousness   as   the  stars   for  ever 


Cor.  xi.  13. 
Tliess.  iv.  12-15. 


8  1  Cor.  xv.  3-5. 

9  Gal.  iv.  4,  5. 


10  Deut.  vi.  4. 
»  S.  Matt,  v.: 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    NESTEROS. 


439 


and  ever ; "  and  in  another  prophet :  "  Enlighten 
yourselves  with  the  light  of  knowledge  while 
there  is  time."  1  And  so  keeping  up  that  dili- 
gence in  reading,  which  I  see  that  you  have, 
endeavour  with  all  eagerness  to  gain  in  the 
first  place  a  thorough  grasp  of  practical,  i.e., 
ethical  knowledge.  For  without  this  that  the- 
oretical purity  of  which  we  have  spoken  can- 
not be  obtained,  which  those  only,  who  are 
perfected  not  by  the  words  of  others  who 
teach  them,  but  by  the  excellence  of  their  own 
actions,  can  after  much  expenditure  of  effort 
and  toil  attain  as  a  reward  for  it.  For  as  they 
gain  their  knowledge  not  from  meditation  on 
the  law  but  from  the  fruit  of  their  labour, 
they  sing  with  the  Psalmist :  "  From  Thy  com- 
mandments I  have  understanding  ;  "  and  hav- 
ing overcome  all  their  passions,  they  say  with 
confidence  :  "  I  will  sing,  and  I  will  understand 
in  the  undefiled  way."  2  For  he  who  is  striving 
in  an  undefiled  way  in  the  course  of  a  pure 
heart,  as  he  sings  the  Psalm,  understands  the 
words  which  are  chanted.  And  therefore  if 
you  would  prepare  in  your  heart  a  holy  taber- 
nacle of  spiritual  knowledge,  purge  yourselves 
from  the  stain  of  all  sins,  and  rid  yourselves 
of  the  cares  of  this  world.  For  it  is  an  im- 
possibility for  the  soul  which  is  taken  up  even 
to  a  small  extent  with  worldly  troubles,  to 
gain  the  gift  of  knowledge  or  to  become  an 
author  of  spiritual  interpretation,  and  diligent 
in  reading  holy  things.  Be  careful  therefore 
in  the  first  place,  and  especially  you,  John, 
as  your  more  youthful  age  requires  you  the 
rather  to  be  careful  about  what  I  am  going  to 
say  —  that  you  may  enjoin  absolute  silence  on 
your  lips,  in  order  that  your  zeal  for  reading 
and  the  efforts  of  your  purpose  may  not  be 
destroyed  by  vain  pride.  For  this  is  the  first 
practical  step  towards  learning,  to  receive  the 
regulations  and  opinions  of  all  the  Elders  with 
an  earnest  heart,  and  with  lips  that  are  dumb  ; 
and  diligently  to  lay  them  up  in  your  heart, 
and  endeavour  rather  to  perform  than  to  teach 
them.  For  from  teaching,  the  dangerous  ar- 
rogance of  vainglory,  but  from  performing, 
the  fruit  of  spiritual  knowledge  will  flour- 
ish. And  so  you  should  never  venture  to  say 
anything  in  the  conference  of  the  Elders  un- 
less some  ignorance  that  might  be  injurious, 
or  a  matter  which  it  is  important  to  know  leads 
you  to  ask  a  question  ;  as  some  who  are  puffed 
up  with  vainglory,  pretend  that  they  ask,  in 
order  really  to  show  off  the  knowledge  which 
they  perfectly  possess.  For  it  is  an  impossi- 
bility for  one,  who  takes  to  the  pursuit  of 
reading  with  the  purpose  of  gaining  the  praise 
of  men,  to  be  rewarded  with  the  gift  of  true 

1  Dan.  xii.  3;  Hos.  x.  12.     -  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  104;  c.  (ci.)  i,  2. 


knowledge.  For  one  who  is  bound  by  the 
chain  of  this  passion,  is  sure  to  be  also  in 
bondage  to  other  faults,  and  especially  to  that 
of  pride  :  and  so  if  he  is  baffled  by  his  en- 
counter with  practical  and  ethical  knowledge, 
he  will  certainly  not  attain  that  spiritual  know- 
ledge which  springs  from  it.  Be  then  in  all 
things  "  swift  to  hear,  but  slow  to  speak,"  3 
lest  there  come  upon  you  that  which  is  noted 
by  Solomon :  "  If  thou  seest  a  man  who  is 
quick  to  speak,  know  that  there  is  more  hope 
of  a  fool  than  of  him  ;  4  and  do  not  presume 
to  teach  any  one  in  words  what  you  have  not 
already  performed  in  deed.  For  our  Lord 
taught  us  by  His  own  example  that  we  ought 
to  keep  to  this  order,  as  of  Him  it  is  said  : 
"  what  Jesus  began  to  do  and  to  teach."5  Take 
care  then  that  you  do  not  rush  into  teaching 
before  doing,  and  so  be  reckoned  among  the 
number  of  those  of  whom  the  Lord  speaks  in 
the  gospel  to  the  disciples  :  "  What  they  say 
unto  you,  that  observe  and  do,  but  not  after 
their  words  :  for  they  say  and  do  not.  But 
they  bind  heavy  burdens  and  grievous  to  be 
borne,  and  lay  them  on  men's  shoulders  ;  but 
they  themselves  will  not  move  them  with  one 
of  their  fingers."  6  For  if  he  who  shall  "break 
one  of  these  commands,  and  shall  teach  men 
so,  shall  be  called  least  in  the  kingdom,  of 
heaven,"  7  it  follows  that  one  who  has  dared  to 
despise  many  and  greater  commands  and  to 
teach  men  so,  shall  certainly  be  considered 
not  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but 
greatest  in  the  punishment  of  hell.  And 
therefore  you  must  be  careful  not  to  be  led  on 
to  teach  by  the  example  of  those  who  have 
attained  some  skill  in  discussion  and  readi- 
ness in  speech  and  because  they  can  discourse 
on  what  they  please  elegantly  and  fully,  are 
imagined  to  possess  spiritual  knowledge,  by 
those  who  do  not  know  how  to  distinguish  its 
real  force  and  character.  For  it  is  one  thing 
to  have  a  ready  tongue  and  elegant  language, 
and  quite  another  to  penetrate  into  the  very 
heart  and  marrow  of  heavenly  utterances  and 
to  gaze  with  pure  eye  of  the  soul  on  profound 
and  hidden  mysteries  ;  for  this  can  be  gained 
by  no  learning  of  man's,  nor  condition  of  this 
world,  only  by  purity  of  soul,  by  means  of  the 
illumination  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 


CHAPTER  X. 

How  to  embrace  the  system  of  true  knowledge. 

You  must  then,  if  you  want  to   get  at  the 
true  knowledge  of   the  Scriptures,  endeavour 


3  S.  James  i.  19. 

1  Prov.  xxix.  20  (lxx.). 


Acts  i.  1. 

S.  Matt,  xxiii. 


7  S.  Matt.  v.  19. 


440 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


first  to  secure  steadfast  humility  of  heart,  to 
carry  you  on  by  the  perfection  of  love  not  to 
the  knowledge  which  puffeth  up,  but  to  that 
which  enlightens.  For  it  is  an  impossibility 
for  an  impure  mind  to  gain  the  gift  of  spiritual 
knowledge.  And  therefore  with  every  possi- 
ble care  avoid  this,  lest  through  your  zeal  for 
reading  there  arise  in  you  not  the  light  of 
knowledge  nor  the  lasting  glory  which  is  pro- 
mised through  the  light  that  comes  from  learning 
but  only  the  instruments  of  your  destruction 
from  vain  arrogance.  Next  you  must  by  all 
means  strive  to  get  rid  of  all  anxiety  and  worldly 
thoughts,  and  give  yourself  over  assiduously  or 
rather  continuously,  to  sacred  reading,  until 
continual  meditation  fills  your  heart,  and  fa- 
shions you  so  to  speak  after  its  own  likeness, 
making  of  it,  in  a  way,  an  ark  of  the  testimony,1 
which  has  within  it  two  tables  of  stone,  i.e., 
the  constant  assurance  of  the  two  testaments  ; 2 
and  a  golden  pot,  i.e.,  a  pure  and  undefiled 
memory  which  preserves  by  a  constant  tenacity 
the  manna  stored  up  in  it,  i.e.,  the  enduring 
and  heavenly  sweetness  of  the  spiritual  sense 
and  the  bread  of  angels  ;  moreover  also  the 
rod  of  Aaron,  i.e.,  the  saving  standard  of  Jesus 
Christ  our  true  High  Priest,  that  ever  buds 
with  the  freshness  of  immortal  memory.  For 
this  is  the  rod  which  after  it  had  been  cut  from 
the  root  of  Jesse,  died  and  flourished  again 
with  a  more  vigorous  life.  But  all  these  are 
guarded  by  two  Cherubim,  i.e.,  the  fulness  of 
historical  and  spiritual  knowledge.  For  the 
Cherubim  mean  a  multitude  of  knowledge  : 
and  these  continually  protect  the  mercy  seat 
of  God,  i.e.,  the  peace  of  your  heart,  and  over- 
shadow it  from  all  the  assaults  of  spiritual 
wickedness.  And  so  your  soul  will  be  carried 
forward  not  only  to  .the  ark  of  the  Divine  Cove- 
nant, but  also  to  the  priestly  kingdom,  and 
owing  to  its  unbroken  love  of  purity  being  as 
it  were  engrossed  in  spiritual  studies,  will  ful- 
fil the  command  given  to  the  priests,  enjoined 
as  follows  by  the  giver  of  the  Law  :  "  And  he 
shall  not  go  forth  from  the  sanctuary,  lest  he 
pollute  the  Sanctuary  of  God,"  3  i.e.,  his  heart, 
in  which  the  Lord  promised  that  he  would  ever 
dwell,  saying:  "I  will  dwell  in  them  and  will 
walk  among  them."  4  Wherefore  the  whole 
series  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  should  be  dili- 
gently committed  to  memory  and  ceaselessly 
repeated.  For  this  continual  meditation  will 
bring  us  a  twofold  fruit :  first,  that  while  the 
attention  of  the  mind  is  taken  up  in  reading 
and  preparing  the  lessons  it  cannot  possibly 

i  Cf  Heb.  ix.  4,  5- 

2  Instrumentum  is  a  favourite  word  with  Tertullian,  who  uses  it 
more   than   once  of   the   two   Testaments,  e.g.,    Apol.    xix.  ;    and, 
Against  Marcion  iv.  where  he  speaks  of  the  "  Two  Instruments,  or, 
as  it  is  usual  to  speak,  of  the  TwoTestaments.'' 
3  Lev.  xxi.  12.  i  2  Cor.  v.  16. 


be  taken  captive  in  any  snares  of  bad  thoughts  : 
next  that  those  things  which  were  conned  over 
and  frequently  repeated  and  which  while  we  were 
trying  to  commit  them  to  memory  we  could 
not  understand  as  the  mind  was  at  that  time 
taken  up,  we  can  afterward  see  more  clearly, 
when  we  are  free  from  the  distraction  of  all 
acts  and  visions,  and  especially  when  we  reflect 
on  them  in  silence  in  our  meditation  by  night. 
So  that  when  we  are  at  rest,  and  as  it  were 
plunged  in  the  stupor  of  sleep,  there  is  re- 
vealed to  us  the  understanding  of  the  most 
secret  meanings,  of  which  in  our  waking  hours 
we  had  not  the  remotest  conception. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

Of  the  manifold  meaning  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

But  as  the  renewal  of  our  soul  grows  by 
means  of  this  study,  Scripture  also  will  begin 
to  put  on  a  new  face,  and  the  beauty  of  the 
holier  meanings  will  somehow  grow  with  our 
growth.  For  their  form  is  adapted  to  the  ca- 
pacity of  man's  understanding,  and  will  ap- 
pear earthly  to  carnal  people,  and  divine  to 
spiritual  ones,  so  that  those  to  whom  it  for- 
merly appeared  to  be  involved  in  thick  clouds, 
cannot  apprehend  its  subtleties  nor  endure  its 
light.  But  to  make  this  which  we  are  aiming 
at  somewhat  clearer  by  an  instance,  it  will  be 
enough  to  produce  a  single  passage  of  the 
law,  by  which  we  can  prove  that  all  the 
heavenly  commands  as  well  are  applied  to 
men  in  accordance  with  the  measure  of  our 
state.  For  it  is  written  in  the  law  :  "  Thou 
shalt  not  commit  adultery."  5  This  is  rightly 
observed  according  to  the  simple  meaning  of 
the  letter,  by  a  man  who  is  still  in  bondage  to 
foul  passions.  But  by  one  who  has  already 
forsaken  these  dirty  acts  and  impure  affections, 
it  must  be  observed  in  the  spirit,  so  that  he 
may  forsake  not  only  the  worship  of  idols  but 
also  all  heathen  superstitions  and  the  obser- 
vance of  auguries  and  omens  and  all  signs  and 
days  and  times,  or  at  any  rate  that  he  be  not 
entangled  in  the  conjectures  of  words  and 
names  which  destroy  the  simplicity  of  our 
faith.  For  by  fornication  of  this  kind  we  read 
that  Jerusalem  was  defiled,  as  she  committed 
adultery  "  on  every  high  hill  and  under  every 
green  tree,"  6  whom  also  the  Lord  rebuked  by 
the  prophet,  saying  :  "  Let  now  the  astrologers 
stand  and  save  thee,  they  that  gazed  at  the 
stars  and  counted  the  months,  that  from  them 
they  might  tell  the  things  that  shall  come  to 
thee,"  7    of  which  fornication   elsewhere    also 


5  Exod.  xx.  14. 


6  Jer.  iii.  6. 


1  Is.  xlvii.  13. 


THE    FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    NESTEROS. 


441 


the  Lord  says  in  rebuking  them  :  "  The  spirit 
of  fornication  deceived  them,  and  they  went 
a  whoring  from  their  God."  1  But  one  who 
has  forsaken  both  these  kinds  of  fornication, 
will  have  a  third  kind  to  avoid,  which  is  con- 
tained in  the  superstitions  of  the  law  and  of 
Judaism  ;  of  which  the  Apostle  says  :  "  Ye  ob- 
serve days  and  months  and  times  and  years  ;  " 
and  again :  "  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle 
not."  2  And  there  is  no  doubt  that  this  is  said 
of  the  superstitions  of  the  law,  into  which  one 
who  has  fallen  has  certainly  gone  a  whoring 
from  Christ,  and  is  not  worthy  to  hear  this 
from  the  Apostle  :  "  For  I  have  espoused  you 
to  one  husband,  to  exhibit  you  as  a  chaste  vir- 
gin to  Christ."  3  But  this  that  follows  will  be 
directed  to  him  by  the  words  of  the  same 
Apostle  :  "  But  I  am  afraid  lest  as  the  serpent 
by  his  cunning  deceived  Eve,  so  your  minds 
should  be  corrupted  and  fall  from  the  simpli- 
city which  is  in  Christ  Jesus."  4  But  if  one  has 
escaped  the  uncleanness  even  of  this  fornica- 
tion there  will  still  be  a  fourth,  which  is  com- 
mitted by  adulterous  intercourse  with  heretical 
teaching.  Of  which  too  the  blessed  Apostle 
speaks  :  "  I  know  that  after  my  departure  grie- 
vous wolves  shall  enter  in  among  you,  not  spa- 
ring the  flock,  and  of  yourselves  also  shall  arise 
men  speaking  perverse  things  so  as  to  lead 
astray  the  disciples  after  them."  5  But  if  a  man 
has  succeeded  in  avoiding  even  this,  let  him 
beware  lest  he  fall  by  a  more  subtle  sin  into 
the  guilt  of  fornication.  I  mean  that  which 
consists  in  wandering  thoughts,  because  every 
thought  which  is  not  only  shameful  but  even 
idle,  and  departing  in  however  small  a  degree 
from  God  is  regarded  by  the  perfect  man  as 
the  foulest  fornication. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

A  question  how  we  can  attain  to  forgetfulness  of  the  cares  of 
this  world. 

Upon  this  I  was  at  first  moved  by  a  secret 
emotion,  and  then  groaned  deeply  and  said, 
All  these  things  which  you  have  set  forth  so 
fully  have  affected  me  with  still  greater  despair 
than  that  which  I  had  previously  endured  :  as 
besides  those  general  captivities  of  the  soul 
whereby  I  doubt  not  that  weak  people  are 
smitten  from  without,  a  special  hindrance  to 
salvation  is  added  by  that  knowledge  of  litera- 
ture which  I  seem  already  to  have  in  some 
slight  measure  attained,  in  which  the  efforts  of 
my  tutor,  or  my  attention  to  continual  reading 
hive  so  weakened  me  that  now  my  mind  is 

1  Hos.  iv.  12.  3  2  Cor.  xi.  2.        B  Acts  xx.  29,  30. 

2  Gal.  iv.  10  ;    Col.  ii.  21.     *  lb.  ver.  3. 


filled  with  those  songs  of  the  poets  so  that 
even  at  the  hour  of  prayer  it  is  thinking  about 
those  trifling  fables,  and  the  stories  of  battles 
with  which  from  its  earliest  infancy  it  was  stored 
by  its  childish  lessons:  and  when  singing  Psalms 
or  asking  forgiveness  of  sins  either  some  wan- 
ton recollection  of  the  poems  intrudes  itself  or 
the  images  of  heroes  fighting  presents  itself 
before  the  eyes,  and  an  imagination  of  such 
phantoms  is  always  tricking  me  and  does  not 
suffer  my  soul  to  aspire  to  an  insight  into 
things  above,  so  that  this  cannot  be  got  rid  of 
by  my  daily  lamentations. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Of  the  method  by  which  we  can  remove  the  dross  from   our 
memory. 

Nesteros  :  From  this  very  fact,  from  which 
there  springs  up  for  you  the  utmost  despair 
of  your  purification,  a  speedy  and  effectual 
remedy  may  arise  if  only  you  will  transfer  to 
the  reading  of  and  meditation  upon  the  wri- 
tings of  the  Spirit,  the  same  diligence  and 
earnestness  which  you  say  that  you  showed  in 
those  secular  studies  of  yours.  For  your 
mind  is  sure  to  be  taken  up  with  those  poems 
until  it  is  gaining  with  the  same  zeal  and 
assiduity  other  matters  for  it  to  reflect  upon, 
and  is  in  labour  with  spiritual  and  divine  things 
instead  of  unprofitable  earthly  ones.  But 
when  these  are  thoroughly  and  entirely  con- 
ceived and  it  has  been  nourished  upon  them, 
then  by  degrees  the  former  thoughts  can  be 
expelled  and  utterly  got  rid  of.  For  the  mind 
of  man  cannot  be  emptied  of  all  thoughts,  and 
so  as  long  as  it  is  not  taken  up  with  spiritual 
interests,  is  sure  to  be  occupied  with  what  it 
learnt  long  since.  For  as  long  as  it  has  no- 
thing to  recur  to  and  exercise  itself  upon  un- 
weariedly,  it  is  sure  to  fall  back  upon  what  it 
learnt  in  childhood,  and  ever  to  think  about 
what  it  took  in  by  long  use  and  meditation.  In 
order  then  that  this  spiritual  knowledge  may 
be  strengthened  in  you  with  a  lasting  stead- 
fastness, and  that  you  may  not  enjoy  it  only 
for  a  time  like  those  who  just  touch  it  not  by 
their  own  exertions  but  at  the  recital  of  another, 
and,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  perceive  its 
scent  in  the  air ;  but  that  it  may  be  laid  up  in 
your  heart,  and  deeply  noted  in  it,  and  tho- 
roughly seen  and  handled,  it  is  well  for  you  to 
use  the  utmost  care  in  securing  that,  even  if 
perhaps  you  hear  things  that  you  know  very 
well  produced  in  the  Conference,  you  do  not 
regard  them  in  a  scornful  and  disdainful  way 
because  you  already  know  them,  but  that  you 
lay  them  to  your  heart  with  the  same  eagerness, 


442 


CASSIAN'S   CONFERENCES. 


with  which  the  words  of  salvation  which  we  are 
longing  for  ought  to  be  constantly  poured  into 
our  ears  or  should  ever  proceed  from  our  lips. 
For  although  the  narration  of  holy  things  be 
often  repeated,  yet  in  a  mind  that  feels  a 
thirst  for  true  knowledge  the  satiety  will  never 
create  disgust,  but  as  it  receives  it  every  day 
as  if  it  were  something  new  and  what  it  wanted, 
however  often  it  may  have  taken  it  in,  it  will 
so  much  the  more  eagerly  either  hear  or  speak, 
and  from  the  repetition  of  these  things  will  gain 
confirmation  of  the  knowledge  it  already  pos- 
sesses, rather  than  weariness  of  any  sort  from 
the  frequent  Conference.  For  it  is  a  sure  sign 
of  a  mind  that  is  cold  and  proud,  if  it  receives 
with  disdain  and  carelessness  the  medicine  of 
the  words  of  salvation,  although  it  be  offered 
with  the  zeal  of  excessive  persistence.  For  "  a 
soul  that  is  full  jeers  at  honeycomb  :  but  to  a 
soul  that  is  in  want  even  little  things  appear 
sweet."  x  And  so  if  these  things  have  been 
carefully  taken  in  and  stored  up  in  the  recesses 
of  the  soul  and  stamped  with  the  seal  of  silence, 
afterwards  like  some  sweet  scented  wine  that 
maketh  glad  the  heart  of  man,  they  will,  when 
mellowed  by  the  antiquity  of  the  thoughts  and 
by  long-standing  patience,  be  brought  forth 
from  the  jar  of  your  heart  with  great  fragrance, 
and  like  some  perennial  fountain  will  flow  abun- 
dantly from  the  veins  of  experience  and  irriga- 
ting channels  of  virtue  and  will  pour  forth 
copious  streams  as  if  from  some  deep  well  in 
your  heart.  For  that  will  happen  in  your  case, 
which  is  spoken  in  Proverbs  to  one  who  has 
achieved  this  in  his  work  :  "  Drink  waters  from 
your  own  cisterns  and  from  the  fount  of  your 
own  wells.  Let  waters  from  your  own  foun- 
tain flow  in  abundance  for  you,  but  let  your 
waters  pass  through  into  your  streets."  2  And 
according  to  the  prophet  Isaiah  :  "  Thou  shalt 
be  like  a  watered  garden,  and  like  a  fountain 
of  water  whose  waters  shall  not  fail.  And  the 
places  that  have  been  desolate  for  ages  shall 
be  built  in  thee  ;  thou  shalt  raise  up  the  foun- 
dations of  generation  and  generation  ;  and  thou 
shalt  be  called  the  repairer  of  the  fences,  turn- 
ing the  paths  into  rest."  3  And  that  blessed- 
ness shall  come  upon  thee  which  the  same 
prophet  promises  :  "  And  the  Lord  will  not  cause 
thy  teacher  to  flee  away  from  thee  any  more, 
and  thine  eyes  shall  see  thy  teacher.  And  thine 
ears  shall  hear  the  word  of  one  admonishing 
thee  behind  thy  back  :  This  is  the  way,  walk 
ye  in  it,  and  go  not  aside  either  to  the  right 
hand  or  to  the  left.' 4  And  so  it  will  come  to 
pass  that  not  only  every  purpose  and  thought 
of  your  heart,  but  also  all  the  wanderings  and 


rovings  of  your  imagination  will  become  to  you 
a  holy  and  unceasing  pondering  of  the  Divine 
law. 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

How  an  unclean  soul  can  neither  give  nor  receive  spiritual 
knowledge. 

But  it  is,  as  we  have  already  said,  impos- 
sible for  a  novice  either  to  understand  or  to 
teach  this.  For  if  one  is  incapable  of  receiving 
it  how  can  he  be  fit  to  pass  it  on  to  another  ? 
But  if  he  has  had  the  audacity  to  teach  any- 
thing on  these  matters,  most  certainly  his  words 
will  be  idle  and  useless  and  only  reach  the  ears 
of  his  hearers,  without  being  able  to  touch  their 
hearts,  uttered  as  they  were  in  sheer  idleness 
and  unfruitful  vanity,  for  they  do  not  proceed 
from  the  treasure  of  a  good  conscience,  but 
from  the  empty  impertinence  of  boastfulness. 
For  it  is. impossible  for  an  impure  soul  (how- 
ever earnestly  it  may  devote  itself  to  reading) 
to  obtain  spiritual  knowledge.  For  no  one 
pours  any  rich  ointment  or  fine  honey  or  any 
precious  liquid  into  a  dirty  and  stinking  vessel. 
For  a  jar  that  has  once  been  filled  with  foul 
odours  spoils  the  sweetest  myrrh  more  readily 
than  it  receives  any  sweetness  or  grace  from  it, 
for  what  is  pure  is  corrupted  much  more  quickly 
than  what  is  corrupt  is  purified.  And  so  the 
vessel  of  our  bosom  unless  it  has  first  been 
purified  from  all  the  foul  stains  of  sin  will  not 
be  worthy  to  receive  that  blessed  ointment  of 
which  it  is  said  by  the  prophet :  "  Like  the  oint- 
ment upon  the  head,  which  ran  down  upon  the 
beard  of  Aaron,  which  ran  down  upon  the  edge 
of  his  garment,"  5  nor  will  it  keep  undefiled 
that  spiritual  knowledge  and  the  words  of  Scrip- 
ture which  are  "  sweeter  than  honey  and  the 
honeycomb."  6  "  For  what  share  hath  right- 
eousness with  iniquity  ?  or  what  agreement 
hath  light  with  darkness  ?  or  what  concord 
has  Christ  with  Belial  ?  " 7 


CHAPTER   XV. 

An  objection  owing  to  the  fact  that  many  impure  persons 
have  knowledge  while  saints  have  not. 

Germanus  :  This  assertion  does  not  seem 
to  us  founded  on  truth,  or  based  on  solid  rea- 
soning. For  if  it  is  clear  that  all  who  either 
never  receive  the  faith  of  Christ  at  all  or  who 
corrupt  it  by  the  wicked  sin  of  heresy,  are  of 
unclean  hearts,  how  is  it  that  many  Jews  and 
heretics,  and  Catholics  also  who  are  entangled 


1  Prov.  xxvii.  7. 

2  Prov.  v.  15,  16. 


s  Is.  lviii.  n, 
4  Is.  xxx.  20, 


5  Ps.  cxxxii.  (cxxxiii.)  2.    6  Ps.  xviii.  (xix.)  11.    7  2  Cor.   vi.  14,  15. 


FIRST   CONFERENCE   OF    ABBOT   NESTEROS. 


44: 


in  various  sins,  have  acquired  perfect  know- 
ledge of  the  Scriptures  and  boast  of  the  great- 
ness of  their  spiritual  learning,  and  on  the  other 
hand  countless  swarms  of  saintly  men,  whose 
heart  has  been  purified  from  all  stain  of  sin, 
are  content  with  the  piety  of  simple  faith  and 
know  nothing  of  the  mysteries  of  a  deeper 
knowledge  ?  How  then  will  that  opinion  stand, 
which  attributes  spiritual  knowledge  solely  to 
purity  of  heart  ? 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

The  answer  to  the  effect  that  bad  men  cannot  possess  true 
knowledge. 

Nesteros  :  One  who  does  not  carefully  weigh 
every  word  of  the  opinions  uttered  cannot 
rightly  discover  the  value  of  the  assertion.  For 
we  said  to  begin  with  that  men  of  this  sort  only 
possess  skill  in  disputation  and  ornaments  of 
speech;  but  cannot  penetrate  to  the  very  heart 
of  Scripture  and  the  mysteries  of  its  spirit- 
ual meanings.  For  true  knowledge  is  only 
acquired  by  true  worshippers  of  God;  and 
certainly  this  people  does  not  possess  it  to 
whom  it  is  said:  "Hear,  O,  foolish  people, 
thou  who  hast  no  heart :  ye  who  having  eyes 
sea  not,  and  having  ears,  hear  not."  And 
again:  "Because  thou  hast  rejected  know- 
ledge, I  also  will  reject  thee  from  acting  as 
My  priest."  *  For  as  it  is  said  that  in  Christ 
"all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge 
are  hid,"2  how  can  we  hold  that  he  who  has 
scorned  to  find  Christ,  or,  when  He  is  found, 
blasphemes  Him  with  impious  lips,  or  at  least 
defiles  the  Catholic  faith  by  his  impure  deeds, 
has  acquired  spiritual  knowledge  ?  "  For  the 
Spirit  of  God  will  avoid  deception,  and  dwell- 
eth  not  in  a  body  that  is  subject  to  sin."3 
There  is  then  no  way  of  arriving  at  spiritual 
knowledge  but  this  which  one  of  the  prophets 
has  finely  described:  "  Sow  to  yourselves  for 
righteousness:  reap  the  hope  of  life.  Enlight- 
en yourselves  with  the  light  of  knowledge."4 
First  then  we  must  sow  for  righteousness,  i.e., 
by  works  of  righteousness  we  must  extend 
practical  perfection;  next  we  must  reap  the 
hope  of  life,  i.e.,  by  the  expulsion  of  carnal 
sins  must  gather  the  fruits  of  spiritual  virtues; 
and  so  we  shall  succeed  in  enlightening  our- 
selves with  the  light  of  knowledge.  And  the 
Psalmist  also  sees  that  this  system  ought  to  be 
followed,  when  he  says :  "  Blessed  are  they  that 
are  undefiled  in  the  way :  who  walk  in  the  law  of 
the  Lord.     Blessed  are  they  that  seek  His  tes- 


1  Jer.  v.  21 ;  Hos.  iv.  6. 

2  Col.  ii.  3. 


3  Wisd.  i.  4,  5. 

4  Hos.  x.  12. 


timonies."  5  For  he  does  not  say  in  the  first 
place :  "  Blessed  are  they  that  seek  His  testimo- 
nies," and  afterwards  add:  "Blessed  are  they 
that  are  undefiled  in  the  way;  "  but  he  begins 
by  saying:  "Blessed  are  they  that  are  unde- 
filed in  the  way;  "  and  by  this  clearly  shows 
that  no  one  can  properly  come  to  seek  God's 
testimonies  unless  he  first  walks  undefiled  in 
the  way  of  Christ  by  his  practical  life.  Those 
therefore  whom  you  mentioned  do  not  possess 
that  knowledge  which  the  impure  cannot  at- 
tain, but  iftevdwyv/nof,  i.e.,  what  is  falsely  so- 
called,  of  which  the  blessed  Apostle  speaks : 
"O  Timothy,  keep  that  which  is  committed 
to  thee,  avoiding  profane  novelties  of  words, 
and  oppositions  of  the  knowledge  that  is 
falsely  so  called;"6  which  is  in  the  Greek 
i<'ti  uiTidiofi;  Trj;  \pEv8v)vvf.iov  yvuxjiut;.  Of  those 
then  who  seem  to  acquire  some  show  of  know- 
ledge or  of  those  who  while  they  devote  them- 
selves diligently  to  reading  the  sacred  volume 
and  to  committing  the  Scriptures  to  memory, 
yet  forsake  not  carnal  sins,  it  is  well  said  in 
Proverbs :  "  Like  as  a  golden  ring  in  a  swine's 
snout  so  is  the  beauty  of  an  evil-disposed 
woman."7  For  what  does  it  profit  a  man  to 
gain  the  ornaments  of  heavenly  eloquence  and 
the  most  precious  beauty  of  the  Scriptures  if 
by  clinging  to  filthy  deeds  and  thoughts  he 
destroys  it  by  burying  it  in  the  foulest  ground, 
or  defiles  it  by  the  dirty  wallowing  of  his  own 
lusts?  For  the  result  will  be  that  that  which 
is  an  ornament  to  those -who  rightly  use  it,  is 
not  only  unable  to  adorn  them,  but  actually 
becomes  dirty  by  the  increased  filth  and  mud. 
For  "from  the  mouth  of  a  sinner  praise  is  not 
comely ;  "  8  as  to  him  it  is  said  by  the  prophet : 
"Wherefore  dost  thou  declare  My  righteous 
acts,  and  takest  My  covenant  in  thy  lips?"9 
of  souls  like  this,  who  never  possess  in  any 
lasting  fashion  the  fear  of  the  Lord  of  which 
it  is  said  :  "the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  instruction 
and  wisdom,"  10  and  yet  try  to  get  at  the  mean- 
ing of  Scripture  by  continual  meditation  on 
them,  it  is  appropriately  asked  in  Proverbs: 
"What  use  are  riches  to  a  fool  ?  For  a  sense- 
less man  cannot  possess  wisdom."  "  But  so  far 
is  this  true  and  spiritual  knowledge  removed 
from  that  worldly  erudition,  which  is  defiled 
by  the  stains  of  carnal  sins,  that  we  know  that 
it  has  sometimes  flourished  most  grandly  in 
some  who  were  without  eloquence  and  almost 
illiterate.  And  this  is  very  clearly  shown  by 
the  case  of  the  Apostles  and  many  holy  men, 
who  did  not  spread  themselves  out  with  an 
empty  show  of  leaves,  but  were  bowed  down 
by  the  weight  of  the  true  fruits  of  spiritual 


5  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  1, 
0  1  T.im.  vi.  20. 
7  Prov.  xi.  22. 


8  Kcclus.  xv.  9. 

9  Ps.  xlix.  (1.)  16. 


10  Prov.  xv.  33. 

11  Prov.  xvii.  16 


444 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


knowledge :  of  whom  it  is  written  in  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles:  "But  when  they  saw  the 
boldness  of  Peter  and  John,  and  perceived 
that  they  were  ignorant  and  unlearned  men, 
they  were  astonished."  x  And  therefore  if  you 
are  anxious  to  attain  to  that  'never-failing 
fragrance,  you  must  first  strive  with  all  your 
might  to  obtain  from  the  Lord  the  purity  of 
chastity.  For  no  one,  in  whom  the  love  of 
carnal  passions  and  especially  of  fornication 
still  holds  sway,  can  acquire  spiritual  know- 
ledge. For  "  in  a  good  heart  wisdom  will 
rest;"  and:  "  He  that  feareth  the  Lord  shall 
find  knowledge  with  righteousness."2  But 
that  we  must  attain  to  spiritual  knowledge  in 
the  order  of  which  we  have  already  spoken,  we 
are  taught  also  by  the  blessed  Apostle.  For 
when  he  wanted  not  merely  to  draw  up  a  list 
of  all  his  own  virtues,  but  rather  to  describe 
their  order,  that  he  might  explain  which  fol- 
lows what,  and  which  gives  birth  to  what,  after 
some  others  he  proceeds  as  follows:  "In 
watchings,  in  fastings,  in  chastity,  in  know- 
ledge, in  long  suffering,  in  gentleness,  in  the 
Holy  Ghost,  in  love  unfeigned."3  And  by 
this  enumeration  of  virtues  he  evidently 
meant  to  teach  us  that  we  must  come  from 
watchings  and  fastings  to  chastity,  from  chas- 
tity to  knowledge,  from  knowledge  to  long  suf- 
ering,  from  long  suffering  to  gentleness,  from 
gentleness  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  from  the  Holy 
Ghost  to  the  rewards  of  love  unfeigned. 
When  then  by  this  system  and  in  this  order 
you  too  have  come  to  spiritual  knowledge, 
you  will  certainly  have,  as  we  said,  not  bar- 
ren or  idle  learning  but  what  is  vigorous  and 
fruitful ;  and  the  seed  of  the  word  of  salvation 
which  has  been  committed  by  you  to  the 
hearts  of  your  hearers,  will  be  watered  by  the 
plentiful  showers  of  the  Holy  Ghost  that  will 
follow;  and,  according  to  this  that  the  prophet 
promised,  "  the  rain  will  be  given  to  your  seed, 
wherever  you  shall  sow  in  the  land,  and  the 
bread  of  the  corn  of  the  land  shall  be  most 
plentiful  and  fat."4 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

To  whom  the  method  of  perfection  should  be  laid  open. 


Solomon,  that  wisest  of  men,  denounced : 
"Attach  not  a  wicked  man  to  the  pastures  of 
the  just,  and  be  not  led  astray  by  the  fulness  of 
the  belly,"  for  "delicacies  are  not  good  for  a 
fool,  nor  is  there  room  for  wisdom  where  sense 
is  wanting :  for  folly  is  the  more  led  on,  because 
a  stubborn  servant  is  not  improved  by  words, 
for  even  though  he  understands,  he  will  not 
obey."  And  "Do  not  say  anything  in  the 
ears  of  an  imprudent  man,  lest  haply  he  mock 
at  thy  wise  speeches."5  And  "give  not  that 
which  is  holy  to  dogs,  neither  cast  ye  your 
pearls  before  swine,  lest  haply  they  trample 
them  under  foot   and    turn    again    and   rend 


you. 


It  is  right  then  to  hide  the  mysteries 


Take  care  too,  when  your  riper  age  leads 
you  to  teach,  lest  you  be  led  astray  by  the 
love  of  vainglory,  and  teach  at  random  to 
the  most  impure  persons  these  things  which 
you  have  learnt  not  so  much  by  reading  as  by  j  usury 
the  effects  of  experience,  and  so  incur  what  | 


of  spiritual  meanings  from  men  of  this  sort, 
that  you  may  effectually  sing:  "Thy  words 
have  I  hid  within  my  heart:  that  I  should 
not  sin  against  Thee."7  But  you  will  per- 
haps say :  And  to  whom  are  the  mysteries  of 
Holy  Scripture  to  be  dispensed?  Solomon, 
the  wisest  of  men,  shall  teach  you :  "  Give,  says 
he,  strong  drink  to  those  who  are  in  sorrow, 
and  give  wine  to  drink,  to  those  who  are  in 
pain,  that  they  may  forget  their  poverty,  and 
remember  their  pain  no  more,"  8  i.e.,  to  those 
who  in  consequence  of  the  punishment  of  their 
past  actions  are  oppressed  with  grief  and  sor- 
row, supply  richly  the  joys  of  spiritual  know- 
ledge like  "wine  that  maketh  glad  the  heart  of 
man, "  9  and  restore  them  with  the  strong  drink 
of  the  word  of  salvation,  lest  haply  they  be 
plunged  in  continual  sorrow  and  a  despair 
that  brings  death,  and  so  those  who  are  of  this 
sort  be  "swallowed  up  in  overmuch  sorrow."1? 
But  of  those  who  remain  in  coldness  and  care- 
lessness, and  are  smitten  by  no  sorrow  of 
heart  we  read  as  follows:  "For  one  who  is 
kindly  and  without  sorrow,  shall  be  in  want."11 
With  all  possible  care  therefore  avoid  being 
puffed  up  with  the  love  of  vainglory,  and  so 
failing  to  become  a  partaker  with  him  whom 
the  prophet  praises,  "who  hath  not  given  his 
money  upon  usury."  12  For  every  one  who, 
from  love  of  the  praise  of  men  dispenses  the 
words  of  God,  of  which  it  is  said  "the  words 
of  the  Lord  are  pure  words,  as  silver  tried  by 
the  fire,  purged  from  the  earth,  refined  seven 
times,"  13  puts  out  his  money  upon  usury,  and 
will  deserve  for  this  not  merely  no  reward,  but 
rather  punishment.  For  for  this  reason  he 
chose  to  use  up  his  Lord's  money  that  he 
might  be  the  gainer  from  a  temporal  profit, 
and  not  that  the  Lord,  as  it  is  written,  might 
"when    He    comes,    receive     His    own    with 


1  Acts  iv.  13. 

2  Prov.  xiv.  33  ;  Ecclus.  xxxii.  20. 


3  2  Cor.  vi.  5,  6. 

4  Is.  xxx.  23. 


5  Prov.  xxiv.  15;  xix.  10;  xviii.  2  ;  xxix.  19;  xxiii.  9  (LXX.). 
0  S.  Matt.  vii.  6.  9  Ps.  ciii.  (civ.)  15.     l:  Ps.  xiv.  (xv.)  5. 

7  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  n.      I0  2  Cor.  ii.  7.  13  Ps.  xi.  (xii.)  7. 

8  Prov.  xxxi.  6,  7.  u  Prov.  xiv.  23.  "  S.  Matt.  xxv.  27. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    NESTEROS. 


445 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Of  the  reasons  for  which  spiritual  learning  is  unfruitful. 

But  it  is  certain  that  for  two  reasons  the 
teaching  of  spiritual  things  is  ineffectual. 
For  either  the  teacher  is  commending  what 
he  has  no  experience  of,  and  is  trying  with 
empty-sounding  words  to  instruct  his  hearer, 
or  else  the  hearer  is  a  bad  man  and  full  of 
faults  and  cannot  receive  in  his  hard  heart  the 
holy  and  saving  doctrine  of  the  spiritual  man; 
and  of  these  it  is  said  by  the  prophet :  "  For 
the  heart  of  this  people  is  blinded,  and  their 
ears  are  dull  of  hearing  and  their  eyes  have 
they  closed :  lest  at  any  time  they  should  see 
with  their  eyes  and  hear  with  their  ears,  and 
understand  with  their  heart  and  be  converted 
and  I  should  heal  them."  * 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

How  often  even  those  who  are  not  worthy  can  receive  the 
grace  of  the  saving  word. 

But  sometimes  in  the  lavish  generosity  of 
God  in  His  Providence,  "Who  willeth  all  men 
to  be  saved  and  to  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  truth,"3  it  is  granted  that  one  who  has 
not  shown  himself  by  an  irreproachable  life 
to  be  worthy  of  the  preaching  of  the  gospel 
attains  the  grace  of  spiritual  teaching  for  the 
good  of  many.  But  by  what  means  the  gifts 
of  healing  are  granted  by  the  Lord  for  the 
expulsion  of  devils  it  follows  that  we  must  in 
a  similar  discussion  explain,  which  as  we  are 
going  to  rise  for  supper  we  will  keep  for  the 
evening,  because  that  is  always  more  effectually 
grasped  by  the  heart  which  is  taken  in  by 
degrees  and  without  excessive  bodily  efforts. 


XV. 
THE   SECOND   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   NESTEROS. 


ON  DIVINE    GIFTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

Discourse  of  Abbot  Nesteros  on  the  threefold  system  of  gifts. 

After  evening  service  we  sat  down  together 
on  the  mats  as  usual  ready  for  the  promised 
narration:  and  when  we  had  kept  silence  for 
some  little  time  out  of  reverence  for  the  Elder, 
he  anticipated  the  silence  of  our  respect  by 
such  words  as  these.  The  previous  order  of 
our  discourse  had  brought  us  to  the  exposition 
of  the  system  of  spiritual  gifts,  which  we  have 
learnt  from  the  tradition  of  the  Elders  is  a 
threefold  one.  The  first  indeed  is  for  the 
sake  of  healing,  when  the  grace  of  signs  ac- 
companies certain  elect  and  righteous  men  on 
account  of  the  merits  of  their  holiness,  as  it 
is  clear  that  the  apostles  and  many  of  the 
saints  wrought  signs  and  wonders  in  accord- 
ance with  the  authority  of  the  Lord  Who  says : 
"  Heal  the  sick,  raise  the  dead,  cleanse  the 
lepers,  cast  out  devils :  freely  ye  have  received, 
freely  give."  2  The  second  when  for  the  edifi- 
cation of  the  church  or  on  account  of  the  faith 
of  those  who  bring  their  sick,  or  of  those  who 


1  Is.  "ji.  10. 


-  S.  Matt.  x.  8. 


are  to  be  cured,  the  virtue  of  health  proceeds 
even  from  sinners  and  men  unworthy  of  it.  Of 
whom  the  Saviour  says  in  the  gospel :  "  Many 
shall  say  to  Me  in  that  day,  Lord,  Lord,  have 
we  not  prophesied  in  Thy  name,  and  in  Thy 
name  cast  out  devils,  and  in  Thy  name  done 
many  mighty  works?  And  then  I  will  confess 
to  them,  I  never  knew  you :  Depart  from  Me, 
ye  workers  of  iniquity."4  And  on  the  other 
hand,  if  the  faith  of  those  who  bring  them  or 
of  the  sick  is  wanting,  it  prevents  those  on 
whom  the  gifts  of  healing  are  conferred  from 
exercising  their  powers  of  healing.  On  which 
subject  Luke  the  Evangelist  says:  "And  Jesus 
could  not  there  do  any  mighty  work  because  of 
their  unbelief."  5  Whence  also  the  Lord  Him- 
self says:  "Many  lepers  were  in  Israel  in  the 
days  of  Elisha  the  prophet,  and  none  of  them 
was  cleansed  but  Naaman  the  Syrian.'' 6  The 
third  method  of  healing  is  copied  by  the  deceit 
and  contrivance  of  devils,  that,  when  a  man 
who  is  enslaved  to  evident  sins  is  out  of  ad- 
miration for  his  miracles  regarded  as  a  saint 
and  a  servant  of  God,  men  may  be  persuaded 


3  i  Tim.  ii.  4. 

4  S.  Matt.  vii.  22,  23. 


5  S.  Mark  vi.  5,  6. 
c  S.  Luke  iv.  27. 


446 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


to  copy  his  sins  and  thus  an  opening  being 
made  for  cavilling,  the  sanctity  of  religion 
may  be  brought  into  disgrace,  or  else  that 
he,  who  believes  that  he  possesses  the  gift  of 
healing,  may  be  puffed  up  by  pride  of  heart 
and  so  fall  more  grievously.  Hence  it  is  that 
invoking  the  names  of  those,  who,  as  they 
know,  have  no  merits  of  holiness  or  any  spiri- 
tual fruits,  they  pretend  that  by  their  merits 
they  are  disturbed  and  made  to  flee  from  the 
bodies  they  have  possessed.  Of  which  it  says 
in  Deuteronomy:  "If  there  rise  up  in  the 
midst  of  thee  a  prophet,  or  one  who  says  that 
he  has  seen  a  dream,  and  declare  a  sign  and 
a  wonder,  and  that  which  he  hath  spoken 
cometh  to  pass,  and  he  say  to  thee :  Let  us 
go  and  follow  after  other  gods  whom  thou 
knowest  not,  and  let  us  serve  them :  thou  shalt 
not  hear  the  words  of  that  prophet  or  of  that 
dreamer,  for  the  Lord  thy  God  is  tempting 
thee  that  it  may  appear  whether  thou  lovest 
Him  or  not,  with  all  thy  heart  and  with  all 
thy  soul."1  And  in  the  gospel  it  says: 
"There  shall  arise  false  Christs  and  false 
prophets,  and  shall  give  great  signs  and  won- 
ders, so  that,  if  it  were  possible,  even  the 
elect  should  be  led  astray."  2 


CHAPTER   II. 

Wherein  one  ought  to  admire  the  saints. 

Wherefore  we  never  ought  to  admire  those 
who  affect  these  things,  for  these  powers, 
but  rather  to  look  whether  they  are  perfect 
in  driving  out  all  sins,  and  amending  their 
ways,  for  this  is  granted  to  each  man  not 
for  the  faith  of  some  other,  or  for  a  variety 
of  reasons,  but  for  his  own  earnestness,  by 
the  action  of  God's  grace.  For  this  is  prac- 
tical knowledge  which  is  termed  by  another 
name  by  the  Apostle;  viz.,  love,  and  is  by 
the  authority  of  the  Apostle  preferred  to  all 
tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  and  to  full 
assurance  of  faith  which  can  even  remove 
mountains,  and  to  all  knowledge,  and  pro- 
phecy, and  to  the  distribution  of  all  one's 
goods,  and  finally  to  the  glory  of  martyrdom 
itself.  For  when  he  had  enumerated  all  kinds 
of  gifts  and  had  said:  ''To  one  is  given  by 
the  Spirit  the  word  of  wisdom,  to  another 
the  word  of  knowledge,  to  another  faith,  to 
another  the  gift  of  healing,  to  another  the 
working  of  miracles,  etc.  : " 3  when  he  was 
going  to  speak  about  love  notice  how  in  a 
few  words  he  put  it  before  all  gifts:    '"And 


-  S.  Matt.  xxiv.  24. 


1  Cor.  xii.  S-10. 


yet,"  he  says,  "I  show  unto  you  a  still  more 
excellent  way.'*4  By  which  it  is  clearly 
shown  that  the  height  of  perfection  and 
blessedness  does  not  consist  in  the  perfor- 
mance of  those  wonderful  works  but  in  the 
purity  of  love.  And  this  not  without  good 
reason.  For  all  those  things  are  to  pass  away 
and  be  destroyed,  but  love  is  to  abide  for 
ever.  And  so  we  have  never  found  that  those 
works  and  signs  were  affected  by  our  fathers : 
nay,  rather  when  they  did  possess  them  by 
the  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit  they  would  never 
use  them,  unless  perhaps  extreme  and  un- 
avoidable necessity  drove  them  to  do  so. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Of  a  dead  man  raised  to  life  by  Abbot  Macarius. 

As  also  we  remember  that  a  dead  man  was 
raised  to  life  by  Abbot  Macarius  who  was  the 
first  to  find  a  home  in  the  desert  of  Scete.5 
For  when  a  certain  heretic  who  followed  the 
error  of  Eunomius  was  trying  by  dialectic 
subtlety  to  destroy  the  simplicity  of  the 
Catholic  faith,  and  had  already  deceived  a 
large  number  of  men,  the  blessed  Macarius 
was  asked  by  some  Catholics,  who  were 
terribly  disturbed  by  the  horror  of  such  an 
upset,  to  set  free  the  simple  folk  of  all  Egvpt 
from  the  peril  of  infidelity,  and  came  for 
this  purpose.  And  when  the  heretic  had 
approached  him  with  his  dialectic  art,  and 
wanted  to  drag  him  away  in  his  ignorance  to 
the  thorns  of  Aristotle,  the  blessed  Macarius 
put  a  stop  to  his  chatter  with  apostolic 
brevity,  saying:  "the  kingdom  of  God  is  not 
in  word  but  in  power. "  G  Let  us  go  therefore 
to  the  tombs,  and  let  us  invoke  the  name  of 
the  Lord  over  the  first  dead  man  we  find,  and 
let  us,  as  it  is  written,  "show  our  faith  by  our 
works,"7  that  by  His  testimony  the  manifest 
proofs  of  a  right  faith  may  be  shown,  and  we 
may  prove  the  clear  truth  not  by  an  empty 
discussion  of  words  but  by  the  power  of 
miracles  and  that  judgment  which  cannot  be 
deceived.  And  when  he  heard  this  the  heretic 
was  overwhelmed  with  shame  before  the  peo- 
ple who  were  present,  and  pretended  for  the 
moment  that  he  consented  to  the  terms  pro- 
posed, and  promised  that  he  would  come  on 
the  morrow,  but  the  next  day  when  they  were 


4  1  Cor.  xii.  31. 

5  This  was  the  "  Egyptian,"  not  the  "Alexandrian"  Macarius. 
Seethe  note  on  the  Institutes.  V.  xii.  The  story  is  also  given  by  Ru- 
finus,  History  of  the  Monks,  c.  xxviii. :  as  well  as  Sozomen,  H.  E.  III. 
xiv.,  and  by  both  of  these  writers  is  expressly  ascribed  to  the  Egyp- 
tian Macarius. 

c  1  Cor.  iv.  20.  "  Cf.  S.  James  ii.  14. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    NESTEROS. 


447 


all  in  expectation  who  had  come  together 
with  greater  eagerness  to  the  appointed  place, 
owing  to  their  desire  for  the  spectacle,  he 
was  terrified  by  the  consciousness  of  his  want 
of  faith,  and  tied  away,  and  at  once  escaped 
out  of  all  Egypt.  And  when  the  blessed 
Macarius  had  waited  together  with  the  peo- 
ple till  the  ninth  hour,  and  saw  that  he  had 
owing  to  his  guilty  conscience  avoided  him, 
he  took  the  people,  who  had  been  perverted 
by  him  and  went  to  the  tombs  determined 
upon.  Now  in  Egypt  the  overflow  of  the  river 
Nile  has  introduced  this  custom  that,  since 
the  whole  breadth  of  that  country  is  covered 
for  no  small  part  of  the  year  by  the  regular 
flood  of  waters  like  a  great  sea  so  that  there 
is  no  means  of  getting  about  except  by  a 
passage  in  boats,  the  bodies  of  the  dead  are 
embalmed  and  stored  away  in  cells  an  good 
height  up.  For  the  soil  of  that  land  being 
damp  from  the  continual  moisture  prevents 
them  from  burying  them.  For  if  it  receives 
any  bodies  buried  in  it,  it  is  forced  by  the  ex- 
cessive inundations  to  cast  them  forth  on  its 
surface.  When  then  the  blessed  Macarius  had 
taken  up  his  position  by  a  most  ancient  corpse, 
he  said  "O  man,  if  that  heretic  and  son  of 
perdition  had  come  hither  with  me,  and, 
while  he  was  standing  by,  I  had  exclaimed 
and  invoked  the  name  of  Christ  my  God,  say 
in  the  presence  of  these  who  were  almost  per- 
verted by  his  fraud,  whether  you  would  have 
arisen."  Then  he  arose  and  replied  with 
words  of  assent.  And  then  Abbot  Macarius 
asked  him  what  he  had  formerly  been  when  he 
enjoyed  life  here,  or  in  what  age  of  men  he  had 
lived,  or  if  he  had  then  known  the  name  of 
Christ,  and  he  replied  that  he  had  lived  under 
kings  of  most  ancient  date,  and  declared  that 
in  those  days  he  had  never  heard  the  name  of 
Christ.  To  whom  once  more  Abbot  Maca- 
rius: "Sleep,"  said  he,  "in  peace  with  the 
others  in  your  own  order,  to  be  roused  again 
by  Christ  in  the  end."  All  this  power  then 
and  grace  of  his  which  was  in  him  would  per- 
haps have  always  been  hidden,  unless  the 
needs  of  the  whole  province  which  was  en- 
dangered, and  his  entire  devotion  to  Christ, 
and  unfeigned  love,  had  forced  him  to  perform 
this  miracle.  And  certainly  it  was  not  the 
ostentation  of  glory  but  the  love  of  Christ 
and  the  good  of  all  the  people  that  wrung 
from  him  the  performance  of  it.  As  the 
passage  in  the  book  of  Kings  shows  us  that 
the  blessed  Elijah  also  did,  who  asked  that 
fire  might  descend  from  heaven  on  the  sacri- 
fices laid  on  the  pyre,  for  this  reason  that  he 
might  set  free  the  faith  of  the  whole  people 
which  was  endangered  by  the  tricks  of  the 
false  prophets. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Of  the  miracle  which  Abbot  Abraham  wrought  on  the  breasts 
of  a  woman. 

Why  also  need  I  mention  the  acts  of  Abbot 
Abraham,1  who  was  surnamed  unlov;,  i.e.,  the 
simple,  from  the  simplicity  of  his  life  and  hib 
innocence.  This  man  when  he  had  gone  from 
the  desert  to  Egypt  for  the  harvest  in  the 
season  of  Quinquagesima 2  was  pestered  with 
tears  and  prayers  by  a  woman  who  brought 
her  little  child,  already  pining  away  and  half 
dead  from  lack  of  milk;  he  gave  her  a  cup  of 
water  to  drink  signed  with  the  sign  of  the 
cross;  and  when  she  had  drunk  it  at  once 
most  marvellously  her  breasts  that  had  been 
till  then  utterly  dry  flowed  with  a  copious 
abundance  of  milk. 


CHAPTER   V. 

Of  the  cure  of  a  lame  man  which  the  same  saint  wrought. 

Or  when  the  same  man  as  he  went  to  a 
village  was  surrounded  by  mocking  crowds, 
who  sneered  at  him  and  showed  him  a  man 
who  was  for  many  years  deprived  of  the  power 
of  walking  from  a  contracted  knee,  and 
crawled  from  a  weakness  of  long  standing, 
they  tempted  him  and  said,  "  Show  us,  father 
Abraham,  if  you  are  the  servant  of  God,  and 
restore  tl'is  man  to  his  former  health,  that  we 
may  believe  that  the  name  of  Christ,  whom 
you  worship,  is  not  vain."  Then  he  at  once 
invoked  the  name  of  Christ,  and  stooped 
down  and  laid  hold  of  the  man's  withered 
foot  and  pulled  it.  And  immediately  at  his 
touch  the  dried  and  bent  knee  was  straight- 
ened, and  he  got  back  the  use  of  his  legs, 
which  he  had  forgotten  how  to  use  in  his  long 
years  of  weakness,  and  went  away  rejoicing. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

How  the  merits  of  each  man  should  not  be  judged  by  his 
miracles. 

And  so  these  men  gave  no  credit  to  them- 
selves for  their  power  of  working  such  won- 
ders, because  they  confessed  that  they  were 
done  not  by  their  own  merits  but  by  the 
compassion  of  the  Lord  and  with  the  words 
of  the  Apostle  they  refused  the  human  hon- 


1  Possibly  the  same  person  as  the  author  of  Conference  xxiv., 
but  nothing  further  appears  to  be  known  of  him. 

2  i.e.,  the  fifty  days  from  Easter  to  Whitsuntide  ;  cf.  the  note  on 
the  Institutes,  II.  xviii. 


448 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


our  offered  out  of  admiration  for  their  mir- 
acles :  "  Men  and  brethren,  why  marvel  ye 
at  this,  or  why  look  ye  on  us  as  though  by 
our  own  power  or  holiness  we  had  caused  this 
man  to  walk."  x  Nor  did  they  think  that  any 
one  should  be  renowned  for  the  gifts  and 
marvels  of  God,  but  rather  for  the  fruits  of 
his  own  good  deeds,  which  are  brought  about 
by  the  efforts  of  his  mind  and  the  power  of 
his  works.  For  often,  as  was  said  above, 
men  of  corrupt  minds,  reprobate  concerning 
the  truth,  both  cast  out  devils  and  perform 
the  greatest  miracles  in  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
Of  whom  when  the  Apostles  complained  and 
said:  "  Master,  we  saw  one  casting  out  devils 
in  Thy  name,  and  we  forbade  him  because  he 
followeth  not  with  us,"  though  for  the  present 
Christ  replied  to  trfem  "  Forbid  him  not,  for 
he  that  is  not  against  you  is  for  you,"2  still 
when  they  say  at  the  end :  "  Lord,  Lord,  have 
we  not  in  Thy  name  prophesied,  and  in  Thy 
name  cast  out  devils,  and  in  Thy  name  done 
many  mighty  works  ?  "  He  testifies  that  then 
He  will  answer:  "I  never  knew  you:  depart 
from  me,  ye  workers  of  iniquity."3  And 
therefore  He  actually  warns  those,  to  whom 
He  Himself  has  given  this  glory  of  miracles 
and  mighty  works  because  of  their  holiness, 
that  they  be  not  puffed  up  by  them,  saying : 
"Rejoice  not  because  the  devils  are  subject 
to  you,  but  rejoice  rather  because  your  names 
are  written  in  heaven."  4 


CHAPTER   VII. 

How  the  excellence  of  gifts  consists  not  in  miracles  but  in 
humility. 

Finally  the  Author  Himself  of  all  miracles 
and  mighty  works,  when  He  called  His  dis- 
ciples to  learn  His  teaching,  clearly  showed 
what  those  true  and  specially  chosen  follow- 
ers ought  chiefly  to  learn  from  Him,  saying: 
"Come  and  learn  of  Me,"  not  chiefly  to  cast 
out  devils  by  the  power  of  heaven,  not  to 
cleanse  the  lepers,  not  to  give  sight  to  the 
blind,  not  to  raise  the  dead:  for  even  though 
I.  do  these  things  by  some  of  My  servants,  yet 
man's  estate  cannot  insert  itself  into  the 
praises  of  God,  nor  can  a  minister  and  servant 
gather  hereby  any  portion  for  himself  there 
where  is  the  glory  of  Deity  alone.  But  do 
ye,  says  He,  learn  this  of  Me,  "for  I  am 
meek  and  lowly  of  heart."5  For  this  it  is 
which  it  is  possible  for  all  men  generally  to 
learn  and  practise,  but  the  working  of  miracles 
and  signs  is  not  always  necessary,  nor  good 


1  Acts  iii.  12.  3  S.  Matt.  vii.  22,  23. 

2  S.  Luke  ix.  49,  50.      *  S.  Luke  x.  20. 


5  S.  Matt.  xi.  2S,  29. 


for  all,  nor  granted  to  all.  Humility  there- 
fore is  the  mistress  of  all  virtues,  it  is  the 
surest  foundation  of  the  heavenly  building,  it 
is  the  special  and  splendid  gift  of  the  Saviour. 
For  he  can  perform  all  the  miracles  which 
Christ  wrought,  without  danger  of  being  puffed 
up,  who  follows  the  gentle  Lord  not  in  the 
grandeur  of  His  miracles,  but  in  the  virtues 
of  patience  and  humility.  But  he  who  aims 
at  commanding  unclean  spirits,  or  bestowing 
gifts  of  healing,  or  showing  some  wonderful 
miracle  to  the  people,  even  though  when  he  is 
showing  off  he  invokes  the  name  of  Christ, 
yet  he  is  far  from  Christ,  because  in  his 
pride  of  heart  he  does  not  follow  his  humble 
Teacher.  For  when  He  was  returning  to 
the  Father,  He  prepared,  so  to  speak,  His 
will  and  left  this  to  His  disciples:  "A  new 
commandment,"  said  He,  "give  I  unto  you 
that  ye  love  one  another;  as  I  have  loved 
you,  so  do  ye  also  love  one  another : "  and  at 
once  He  subjoined:  "By  this  shall  all  men 
know  that  ye  are  My  disciples,  if  ye  have  love 
to  one  another."6  He  says  not:  "if  ye  do 
signs  and  miracles  in  the  same  way,"  but: 
"if  ye  have  love  to  one  another;"  and  this 
it  is  certain  that  none  but  the  meek  and 
humble  can  keep.  Wherefore  our  predeces- 
sors never  reckoned  those  as  good  monks  or 
free  from  the  fault  of  vainglory,  who  pro- 
fessed themselves  exorcists  among  men,  and 
proclaimed  with  boastful  ostentation  among 
admiring  crowds  the  grace  which  they  had 
either  obtained  or  which  they  claimed.  But 
in  vain,  for  "he  who  trusteth  in  lies  feedeth 
the  winds:  and  the  same  runneth  after  birds 
that  fly  away."7  For  without  doubt  that  will 
happen  to  them  which  we  find  in  Proverbs: 
"As  the  winds  and  clouds  and  rain  are  very 
clear  so  are  these  who  boast  of  a  fictitious 
gift."8  And  so  if  any  one  does  any  of  these 
things  in  our  presence,  he  ought  to  meet  with 
commendation  from  us  not  from  admiration 
of  his  miracles,  but  from  the  beauty  of  his  life, 
nor  should  we  ask  whether  the  devils  are  sub- 
ject to  him,  but  whether  he  possesses  those 
features  of  love  which  the  Apostle  describes. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

How  it  is  more  wonderful  to  have  cast  out  one's  faults  from 
one's  self  than  devils  from  another. 

And  in  truth  it  is  a  greater  miracle  to  root 
out  from  one's  own  flesh  the  incentives  to 
wantonness  than  to  cast  out  unclean  spirits 
from  the  bodies  of  others,  and  it  is  a  grander 
sign  to  restrain  the  fierce  passions  of  anger 


6  S.  John  xiii.  34,  35. 


Prov.  x.  4. 


8  Prov.  xxv.  14. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT    NESTEROS. 


449 


by  the  virtue  of  patience  than  to  command 
the  powers  of  the  air,  and  it  is  a  greater  thing 
to  have  shut  out  the  devouring  pangs  of 
gloominess  from  one's  own  heart  than  to  have 
expelled  the  sickness  of  another  and  the  fever 
of  his  body.  Finally  it  is  in  many  ways  a 
grander  virtue  and  a  more  splendid  achieve- 
ment to  cure  the  weaknesses  of  one's  own 
soul  than  those  of  the  body  of  another.  For 
just  as  the  soul  is  higher  than  the  flesh,  so  is 
its  salvation  of  more  importance,  and  as  its 
nature  is  more  precious  and  excellent,  so  is  its 
destruction  more  grievous  and  dangerous. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

How  uprightness  of  life  is  of  more  importance  than  the 
working  of  miracles. 

And  of  those  cures  it  was  said  to  the  blessed 
Apostles :  "  Rejoice  not  that  the  devils  are 
subject  to  you"1  For  this  was  wrought  not 
by  their  own  power,  but  by  the  might  of  the 
name  invoked.  And  therefore  they  are  warned 
not  to  presume  to  claim  for  themselves  any 
blessedness  or  glory  on  this  account  as  it 
was  done  simply  by  the  power  and  might  of 
God,  but  only  on  account  of  the  inward  purity 
of  their  life  and  heart,  for  which  it  was  vouch- 
safed to  them  to  have  their  names  written  in 
heaven. 

CHAPTER   X. 

A  revelation  on  the  trial  of  perfect  chastity. 

And  to  prove  this  that  we  have  said  both 
by  the  testimony  of  the  ancients  and  divine 
oracles,  we  had  better  bring  forward  in  his 
own  words  and  experience  what  the  blessed 
Paphnutius2  felt  on  the  subject  of  admira- 
tion of  miracles  and  the  grace  of  purity,  or 
rather  what  he  learnt  from  the  revelation  of 
an  angel.  For  this  man  had  been  famous 
for  many  years  for  his  signal  strictness  so  that 
he  fancied  that  he  was  completely  free  from 
the  snares  of  carnal  concupiscence  because 
he  felt  himself  superior  to  all  the  attacks  of 
the  demons  with  whom  he  had  fought  openly 
and  for  a  long  while;  and  when  some  holy 
men  had  come  to  him,  he  was  preparing  for 
them  a  porridge  of  lentiles  which  they  call 
Athera,3  and  his  hand,  as  it  happened,  was 


1  S.  Luke  x.  20.  2  Cf.  the  note  on  Conferences  III.  i. 

3  Athera.     This  is  noticed  by  Pliny  (Hist.  Nat.  xxii.  25,  57,  §121) 
as  the  Egyptian  name  for  a  decoction  made  from  grain. 


burnt  in  the  oven,  by  a  flame  that  darted  up. 
And  when  this  happened  he  was  much  morti- 
fied and  began  silently  to  consider  with  him- 
self, and  ask  why  was  not  the  fire  at  peace 
with  me,  when  my  more  serious  contests  with 
demons  have  ceased?  or  how  will  that  un- 
quenchable fire  which  searches  out  the  deserts 
of  all  pass  me  by  in  that  dread  day  of  judg- 
ment, and  fail  to  detain  me,  if  this  trivial 
temporal  fire  from  without  has  not  spared  me? 
And  as  he  was  troubled  by  thoughts  of  this 
kind  and  vexation  a  sudden  sleep  overcame 
him  and  an  angel  of  the  Lord  came  to  him 
and  said :  "  Paphnutius,  why  are  you  vexed 
because  that  earthly  fire  is  not  yet  at  peace 
with  you,  while  there  still  remains  in,  your 
members  some  disturbance  of  carnal  motions 
that  is  not  completely  removed?  For  as  long 
as  the  roots  of  this  flourish  within  you,  they 
will  not  suffer  that  material  fire  to  be  at  peace 
with  you.  And  certainly  you  could  not  feel 
it  harmless  unless  you  found  by  such  proofs 
as  these  that  all  these  internal  motions  within 
you  were  destroyed.  Go,  take  a  naked  and 
most  beautiful  virgin,  and  if  while  you  hold 
her  you  find  that  the  peace  of  your  heart  re- 
mains steadfast,  and  that  carnal  heat  is  still 
and  quiet  within  you,  then  the  touch  of  this 
visible  flame  also  shall  pass  over  you  gently 
and  without  harming  you  as  it  did  over  the 
three  children  in  Babylon. "  And  so  the  Elder 
was  impressed  by  this  revelation  and  did  not 
try  the  dangers  of  the  experiment  divinely 
shown  to  him,  but  asked  his  own  conscience 
and  examined  the  purity  of  his  heart;  and, 
guessing  that  the  weight  of  purity  was  not  yet 
sufficient  to  outweigh  the  force  of  this  trial,  it 
is  no  wonder,  said  he,  if  when  the  battles  with 
unclean  spirits  come  upon  me,  I  still  feel  the 
flames  of  the  fire,  which  I  used  to  think  of 
less  importance  than  the  savage  attacks  of 
demons,  still  raging  against  me.  Since  it  is 
a  greater  virtue  and  a  grander  grace  to  extin- 
guish the  inward  lust  of  the  flesh  than  by  the 
sign  of  the  Lord 4  and  the  power  of  the  might 
of  the  Most  High  to  subdue  the  wicked  de- 
mons which  rush  upon  one  from  without,  or 
to  drive  them  by  invoking  the  Divine  name 
from  the  bodies  which  they  have  possessed. 
So  far  Abbot  Nesteros,  finishing  the  account 
of  the  true  working  of  the  gifts  of  grace  ac- 
companied us  to  the  cell  of  the  Elder  Joseph 
which  was  nearly  six  miles  distant  from 
his,  as  we  were  eager  for  instruction  in  his 
doctrine. 


e.,  the  sign  of  the  cross. 


45° 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


XVI. 


THE   FIRST   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT  JOSEPH. 


ON  FRIENDSHIP. 


CHAPTER   I. 

What  Abbot  Joseph  asked  us  in  the  first  instance. 

The  blessed  Joseph,1  whose  instructions 
and  precepts  are  now  to  be  set  forth,  and  who 
was  one  of  the  three  whom  we  mentioned  in 
the  first  Conference,'2  belonged  to  a  most  illus- 
trious family,  and  was  the  chief  man  of  his 
city  in  Egypt,  which  was  named  Thmuis,3  and 
so  was  carefully  trained  in  the  eloquence 
of  Greece  as  well  as  Egypt,  so  that  he  could 
talk  admirably  with  us  or  with  those  who  were 
utterly  ignorant  of  Egyptian,  not  as  the  others 
did  through  an  interpreter,  but  in  his  own 
person.  And  when  he  found  that  we  were 
anxious  for  instruction  from  him,  he  first 
inquired  whether  we  were  own  brothers,  and 
when  he  heard  that  we  were  united  in  a  tie  of 
spiritual  and  not  carnal  brotherhood,  and  that 
from  the  first  commencement  of  our  renuncia- 
tion of  the  world  we  had  always  been  joined 
together  in  an  unbroken  bond  as  well  in  our 
travels,  which  we  had  both  undertaken  for  the 
sake  of  spiritual  service,  as  also  in  the  pur- 
suits of  the  monastery,  he  began  his  discourse 
as  follows. 

CHAPTER    II. 

Discourse  of  the  same  elder  on  the  untrustworthy  sort  of 
friendship. 

There  are  many  kinds  of  friendship  and 
companionship  which  unite  men  in  very  differ- 
ent ways  in  the  bonds  of  love.  For  some  a 
previous  recommendation  makes  to  enter  upon 
an  intercourse  first  of  acquaintance  and  after- 
wards even  of  friendship.  In  the  case  of 
others  some  bargain  or  an  agreement  to  give 
and  take  something  has  joined  them  in  the 
bonds  of  love.  Others  a  similarity  and  union 
of  business  or  science  or  art  or  study  has  united 


1  Nothing  further  appears  to  be  known  of  this  Joseph  than  what 
Cassian  here  states. 

2  viz.,  the  jirst  of  the  Second  Part  of  the  Conferences,  i.e.,  Con- 
ference XI.  3  See  on  Conference  XIV.  c.  iv. 


in  the  chain  of  friendship,  by  which  even 
fierce  souls  become  kindly  disposed  to  each 
other,  so  that  those,  who  in  forests  and  moun- 
tains delight  in  robbery  and  revel  in  human 
bloodshed,  embrace  and  cherish  the  partners 
of  their  crimes.  But  there  is  another  kind  of 
love,  where  the  union  is  from  the  instincts  of 
nature  and  the  laws  of  consanguinity,  whereby 
those  of  the  same  tribe,  wives  and  parents, 
and  brothers  and  children  are  naturally  pre- 
ferred to  others,  a  thing  which  we  find  is  the 
case  not  only  with  mankind  but  with  all 
birds  and  beasts.  For  at  the  prompting  of  a 
natural  instinct  they  protect  and  defend  their 
offspring  and  their  young  ones  so  that  often 
they  are  not  afraid  to  expose  themselves  to 
danger  and  death  for  their  sakes.  Indeed 
those  kinds  of  beasts  and  serpents  and  birds, 
which  are  cut  off  and  separated  from  all  others 
by  their  intolerable  ferocity  or  deadly  poison, 
as  basilisks,  unicorns  and  vultures,  though 
by  their  very  look  they  are  said  to  be  danger- 
ous to  every  one,  yet  among  themselves  they 
remain  peaceful  and  harmless  owing  to  com- 
munity of  origin  and  fellow-feeling.  But 
we  see  that  all  these  kinds  of  love  of  which 
we  have  spoken,  as  they  are  common  both  to 
the  good  and  bad,  and  to  beasts  and  serpents, 
certainly  cannot  last  for  ever.  For  often  sepa- 
ration of  place  interrupts  and  breaks  them  off, 
as  well  as  forgetfulness  from  lapse  of  time, 
and  the  transaction  of  affairs  and  business 
and  words.  For  as  they  are  generally  due  to 
different  kinds  of  connexions  either  of  gain, 
or  desires,  or  kinship,  or  business,  so  when 
any  occasion  for  separation  intervenes  they 
are  broken  off. 


CHAPTER    III. 

How  friendship  is  indissoluble. 

Among  all  these  then  there  is  one  kind  of 
love  which  is  indissoluble,  where  the  union  is 
owing  not  to  the  favour  of  a  recommendation, 
or  some  great  kindness  or  gifts,  or  the  reason 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


451 


of  some  bargain,  or  the  necessities  of  nature, 
but  simply  to  similarity  of  virtue.  This,  I 
say,  is  what  is  broken  by  no  chances,  what  no 
interval  of  time  or  space  can  sever  or  destroy, 
and  what  even  death  itself  cannot  part.  This 
is  true  and  unbroken  love  which  grows  by 
means  of  the  double  perfection  and  goodness 
of  friends,  and  which,  when  once  its  bonds 
have  been  entered,  no  difference  of  liking 
and  no  disturbing  opposition  of  wishes  can 
sever.  But  we  have  known  many  set  on  this 
purpose,  who  though  they  had  been  joined 
together  in  companionship  out  of  their  burn- 
ing love  for  Christ,  yet  could  not  maintain  it 
continually  and  unbrokenly,  because  although 
they  relied  on  a  good  beginning  for  their 
friendship,  yet  they  did  not  with  one  and  the 
same  zeal  maintain  the  purpose  on  which  they 
had  entered,  and  so  there  was  between  them  a 
sort  of  love  only  for  a  while,  for  it  was  not  main- 
tained by  the  goodness  of  both  alike,  but  by  the 
patience  of  the  one  party,  and  so  although  it  is 
held  to  by  the  one  with  unwearied  heroism, 
yet  it  is  sure  to  be  broken  by  the  pettiness  of 
the  other.  For  the  infirmities  of  those  who 
are  somewhat  cold  in  seeking  the  healthy  con- 
dition of  perfection,  however  patiently  they 
may  be  borne  by  the  strong,  are  yet  not  put 
up  with  by  those  who  are  weaker  themselves. 
For  they  have  implanted  within  them  causes 
of  disturbance  which  do  not  allow  them  to  be 
at  ease,  just  as  those,  who  are  affected  by 
bodily  weakness,  generally  impute  the  deli- 
cacy of  their  stomach  and  weak  health  to  the 
carelessness  of  their  cooks  and  servants,  and 
however  carefully  their  attendants  may  serve 
them,  yet  nevertheless  they  ascribe  the  grounds 
of  their  upset  to  those  who  are  in  good  health, 
as  they  do  not  see  that  they  are  really  due  to  the 
failure  of  their  own  health.  Wherefore  this, 
as  we  said,  is  the  sure  and  indissoluble  union 
of  friendship,  where  the  tie  consists  only  in 
likeness  in  goodness.  For  "the  Lord  maketh 
men  to  be  of  one  mind  in  an  house."  1  And 
therefore  love  can  only  continue  undisturbed 
in  those  in  whom  there  is  but  one  purpose  and 
mind  to  will  and  to  refuse  the  same  things. 
And  if  you  also  wish  to  keep  this  unbroken, 
you  must  be  careful  that  having  first  got  rid 
of  your  faults,  you  mortify  your  own  desires, 
and  with  united  zeal  and  purpose  diligently 
fulfil  that  in  which  the  prophet  specially  de- 
lights: "Behold  how  good  and  joyful  a  thing 
it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity."  2 
Which  should  be  taken  of  unity  of  spirit  rather 
than  of  place.  For  it  is  of  no  use  for  those 
who  differ  in  character  and  purpose  to  be 
united  in  one  dwelling,  nor  is  it  an  hindrance 


1  Ps.  lxvii.  (lxviii.)  7. 


2  Ps.  cxxxii.  (cxxxiii.)  1. 


for  those  who  are  grounded  on  equal  goodness 
to  be  separated  by  distance  of  place.  For 
with  God  the  union  of  character,  not  of  place, 
joins  brethren  together  in  a  common  dwelling, 
nor  can  unruffled  peace  ever  be  maintained 
where  difference  of  will  appears. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

A  question  whether  anything  that  is  really  useful  should 
be  performed  even  against  a  brother's  wish. 

Germanus:  What  then?  If  when  one 
party  wants  to  do  something  which  he  sees  is 
useful  and  profitable  according  to  the  mind 
of  God,  the  other  does  not  give  his  consent, 
ought  it  to  be  performed  even  against  the  wish 
of  the  brother,  or  should  it  be  thrown  on  one 
side  as  he  wants  ? 


CHAPTER   V. 

The  answer,  how  a  lasting  friendship  can  only  exist  among 
those  who  are  perfect. 

Joseph  :  For  this  reason  we  said  that  the 
full  and  perfect  grace  of  friendship  can  only 
last  among  those  who  are  perfect  and  of  equal 
goodness,  whose  likemindedness  and  common 
purpose  allows  them  either  never,  or  at  any 
rate  hardly  ever,  to  disagree,  or  to  differ  in 
those  matters  which  concern  their  progress  in 
the  spiritual  life.  But  if  they  begin  to  get 
hot  with  eager  disputes,  it  is  clear  that  they 
have  never  been  at  one  in  accordance  with  the 
rule  which  we  gave  above.  But  because  no 
one  can  start  from  perfection  except  one  who 
has  begun  from  the  very  foundation,  and  your 
inquiring  is  not  with  regard  to  its  greatness, 
but  as  to  how  you  can  attain  to  it,  I  think  it 
well  to  explain  to  you,  in  a  few  words,  the 
rule  for  it  and  the  sort  of  path  along  which 
your  steps  should  be  directed,  that  you  may 
be  able  more  easily  to  secure  the  blessing  of 
patience  and  peace. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

By  what  means  union  can  be  preserved  unbroken. 

The  first  foundation  then,  of  true  friend- 
ship consists  in  contempt  for  worldly  sub- 
stance and  scorn  for  all  things  that  we  possess. 
For  it  is  utterly  wrong  and  unjustifiable  if, 
after  the  vanity  of  the  world  and  all  that  is 
in  it  has  been  renounced,  whatever  miserable 
furniture  remains  is  more  regarded  than  what 
is  most  valuable;  viz.,  the  love  of  a  brother. 


452 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


The  second  is  for  each  man  so  to  prune  his 
own  wishes  that  he  may  not  imagine  himself 
to  be  a  wise  and  experienced  person,  and  so 
prefer  his  own  opinions  to  those  of  his  neigh- 
bour. The  third  is  for  him  to  recognize  that 
everything,  even  what  he  deems  useful  and 
necessary,  must  come  after  the  blessing  of 
love  and  peace.  The  fourth  for  him  to  realize 
that  he  should  never  be  angry  for  any  reason 
good  or  bad.  The  fifth  for  him  to  try  to  cure 
any  wrath  which  a  brother  may  have  conceived 
against  him  however  unreasonably,  in  the 
same  way  that  he  would  cure  his  own,  know- 
ing that  the  vexation  of  another  is  equally 
bad  for  him,  as  if  he  himself  were  stirred 
against  another,  unless  he  removes  it,  to  the 
best  of  his  ability,  from  his  brother's  mind. 
The  last  is  what  is  undoubtedly  generally 
decisive  in  regard  to  all  faults;,  viz.,  that 
he  should  realize  daily  that  he  is  to  pass 
away  from  this  world;  as  the  realization  of 
this  not  only  permits  no  vexation  to  linger  in 
the  heart,  but  also  represses  all  the  motions 
of  lusts  and  sins  of  all  kinds.  Whoever  then 
has  got  hold  of  this,  can  neither  suffer  nor  be 
the  cause  of  bitter  wrath  and  discord.  But 
when  this  fails,  as  soon  as  he  who  is  jealous 
of  love  has  little  by  little  infused  the  poison 
of  vexation  in  the  hearts  of  friends,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  owing  to  frequent  quarrels  love  will 
gradually  grow  cool,  and  at  sometime  or  other 
he  will  part  the  hearts  of  the  lovers,  that  have 
been  for  a  long  while  exasperated.  For  if  one 
is  walking  along  the  course  previously  marked 
out,  how  can  he  ever  differ  from  his  friend, 
for  if  he  claims  nothing  for  himself,  he  en- 
tirely cuts  off  the  first  cause  of  quarrel  (which 
generally  springs  from  trivial  things  and  most 
unimportant  matters),  as  he  observes  to  the 
best  of  his  power  what  we  read  in  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles  on  the  unity  of  believers: 
"But  the  multitude  of  believers  was  of  one 
heart  and  soul ;  neither  did  any  of  them  say 
that  any  of  the  things  which  he  possessed  was 
his  own,  but  they  had  all  things  common."1 
Then  how  can  any  seeds  of  discussion  arise 
from  him  who  serves  not  his  own  but  his 
brother's  will,  and  becomes  a  follower  of  his 
Lord  and  Master,  who  speaking  in  the  cha- 
racter2 of  man  which  He  had  taken,  said:  ''I 
am  not  come  to  do  Mine  own  will,  but  the 
will  of  Him  that  sent  Me  ?  "  3  But  how  can  he 
arouse  any  incitement  to  contention,  who  has 
determined  to  trust  not  so  much  to  his  own 
judgment  as  to  his  brother's  decision,  on  his 
own  intelligence  and  meaning,  in  accordance 
with  his  will  either  approving  or  disapproving 
his  discoveries,  and  fulfilling  in  the  humility 


1  Acts  iv.  32. 
3  S.  John  vi.  3S. 


2  Ex  persona.     See  note  on  VIII.  xxxv. 


of  a  pious  heart  these  words  from  the  Gospel : 
"Nevertheless,  not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou 
wilt."4  Or  in  what  way  will  he  admit  any- 
thing which  grieves  the  brother,  who  thinks 
that  nothing  is  more  precious  than  the  bles- 
sing of  peace,  and  never  forgets  these  words  of 
the  Lord :  "  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that 
ye  are  My  disciples,  that  ye  love  one  an- 
other;"5 for  by  this,  as  by  a  special  mark, 
Christ  willed  that  the  flock  of  His  sheep 
should  be  known  in  this  world,  and  be  sepa- 
rated from  all  others  by  this  stamp,  so  to 
speak?  But  on  what  grounds  will  he  endure 
either  to  admit  the  rahcour  of  vexation  in 
himself  or  for  it  to  remain  in  another,  if  his 
firm  decision  is  that  there  cannot  be  any  good 
ground  for  anger,  as  it  is  dangerous  and 
wrong,  and  that  when  his  brother  is  angry  with 
him  he  cannot  pray,  in  just  the  same  way  as 
when  he  himself  is  angry  with  his  brother,  as 
he  ever  keeps  in  an  humble  heart  these  words 
of  our  Lord  and  Saviour:  '"If  thou  bring  thy 
gift  to  the  altar  and  there  remember  that  thy 
brother  hath  aught  against  thee,  leave  there 
thy  gift  at  the  altar,  and  go  thy  way;  first  be 
reconciled  to  thy  brother,  and  then  come  and 
offer  thy  gift."  6  For  it  will  be  of  no  use  for 
you  to  declare  that  you  are  not  angry,  and  to 
believe  that  you  are  fulfilling  the  command 
Avhichsays:  "  Let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon 
thy  wrath ;  "  and :  "  Whosoever  is  angry  with 
his  brother,  shall  be  in  danger  of  the  judg- 
ment,"7 if  you  are  with  obstinate  heart  disre- 
garding the  vexation  of  another  which  you 
could  smooth  down  by  kindness  on  your  part. 
For  in  the  same  way  you  will  be  punished 
for  violating  the  Lord's  command.  For  He 
who  said  that  you  should  not  be  angry  with 
another,  said  also  that  you  should  not  disre- 
gard the  vexations  of  another,  for  it  makes  no 
difference  in  the  sight  of  God.  '"Who  willeth 
all  men  to  be  saved, "  6  whether  you  destroy 
yourself  or  someone  else.  Since  the  death  of 
any  one  is  equally  a  loss  to  God,  and  at  the 
same  time  it  is  equally  a  gain  to  him  to  whom 
all  destruction  is  delightful,  whether  it  is  ac- 
quired by  your  death  or  by  the  death  of  your 
brother.  Lastly,  how  can  he  retain  even  the 
least  vexation  with  his  brother,  who  realizes 
daily  that  he  is  presently  to  depart  from  this 
world? 

CHAPTER   VII. 

How  nothing  should  be  put  before  love,  or  after  anger. 

As  then  nothing  should  be  put  before  love. 
so  on  the  other  hand  nothing  should  be  put 


4  S.  Matt.  xxvi.  39. 

5  S.  John  xiii.  35. 

6  S.  Matt.  v.  23,  24. 


7  Eph.  iv.  26;  S.  Matt.  v.  22. 

8  1  Tim.  ii.  4. 


FIRST   CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


453 


below  rage  and  anger.  For  all  things,  how- 
ever useful  and  necessary  they  seem,  should 
yet  be  disregarded  that  disturbing  anger  may 
be  avoided,  and  all  things  even  which  we 
think  are  unfortunate  should  be  undertaken 
and  endured  that  the  calm  of  love  and  peace 
may  be  preserved  unimpaired,  because  we 
should  reckon  nothing  more  damaging  than 
anger  and  vexation,  and  nothing  more  advan- 
tageous than  love. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

On  what  grounds  a  dispute  can  arise  among  spiritual  persons. 

For  as  our  enemy  separates  brethren  who 
are  still  weak  and  carnal  by  a  sudden  burst 
of  rage  on  account  of  some  trifling  and  earthly 
matter,  so  he  sows  the  seeds  of  discord  even 
between  spiritual  persons,  on  the  ground  of 
some  difference  of  thoughts,,  from  which  cer- 
tainly those  contentions  and  strifes  about 
words,  which  the  Apostle  condemns,  for  the 
most  part  arise :  whereby  consequently  our 
spiteful  and  malignant  enemy  sows  discord 
between  brethren  who  were  of  one  mind.  For 
these  words  of  wise  Solomon  are  true :  "  Con- 
tention breeds  hatred:  but  friendship  will  be 
a  defence  to  all  who  do  not  strive."  * 


CHAPTER    IX. 

How  to  get  rid  even  of  spiritual  grounds  of  discord. 

Wherefore  for  the  preservation  of  lasting 
and  unbroken  love,  it  is  of  no  use  to  have 
removed  the  first  ground  of  discord,  which 
generally  arises  from  frail  and  earthly  things, 
or  to  have  disregarded  all  carnal  things,  and 
to  have  permitted  to  our  brethren  an  unre- 
stricted share  in  everything  which  our  needs 
require,  unless  too  we  cut  off  in  like  manner 
the  second,  which  generally  arises  under  the 
guise  of  spiritual  feelings ;  and  unless  we  gain 
in  everything  humble  thoughts  and  harmonious 
wills. 


CHAPTER   X. 

On  the  best  tests  of  truth. 

For  I  remember,  that  when  my  youthful 
age  suggested  to  me  to  cling  to  a  partner, 
thoughts  of  this  sort  often  mingled  with  our 


moral  training  and  the  Holy  Scriptures,  so 
that  we  fancied  that  nothing  could  be  truer 
or  more  reasonable :  but  when  we  came  to- 
gether and  began  to  produce  our  ideas,  in 
the  general  discussion  which  was  held,  some 
things  were  first  noted  by  the  others  as  false 
and  dangerous,  and  then  presently  were  con- 
demned and  pronounced  by  common  consent 
to  be  injurious;  though  before  they  had 
seemed  to  shine  as  if  with  a  light  infused  by 
the  devil,  so  that  they  would  easily  have 
caused  discord,  had  not  the  charge  of  the 
Elders,  observed  like  some  divine  oracle,  re- 
strained us  from  all  strife,  that  charge ;  namely, 
whereby  it  was  ordered  by  them  almost  with 
the  force  of  a  law,  that  neither  of  us  should 
trust  to  his  own  judgments  more  than  his 
brother's,  if  he  wanted  never  to  be  deceived 
by  the  craft  of  the  devil. 


CHAPTER   XL 

How  it  is  impossible  for  one  who  trusts  to  his  own  judgment 
to  escape  being  deceived  by  the  devil's  illusions. 

For  often  it  has  been  proved  that  what 
the  Apostle  says  really  takes  place.  "  For 
Satan  himself  transforms  himself  into  an 
angel  of  light,"2  so  that  he  deceitfully  sheds 
abroad  a  confusing  and  foul  obscuration  of  the 
thoughts  instead  of  the  true  light  of  know- 
ledge. And  unless  these  thoughts  are  re- 
ceived in  a  humble  and  gentle  heart,  and 
kept  for  the  consideration  of  some  more  expe- 
rienced brother  or  approved  Elder,  and  when 
thoroughly  sifted  by  their  judgment,  either 
rejected  or  admitted  by  us,  we  shall  be  sure 
to  venerate  in  our  thoughts  an  angel  of  dark- 
ness instead  of  an  angel  of  light,  and  be 
smitten  with  a  grievous  destruction:  an  injury 
which  it  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  avoid 
who  trusts  in  his  own  judgment,  unless  he 
becomes  a  lover  and  follower  of  true  humility 
and  with  all  contrition  of  heart  fulfils  what  the 
Apostle  chiefly  prays  for:  "If  then  there  be 
any  consolation  in  Christ,  if  any  comfort  of 
love,  if  any  bowels  of  compassion,  fulfil  ye 
my  joy,  that  you  be  of  one  mind,  having  the 
same  love,  being  of  one  accord,  doing  nothing 
by  contention,  neither  by  vainglory;  but  in 
humility  each  esteeming  others  better  than 
themselves;"  and  this:  "  in  honour  preferring 
one  another,"3  that  each  may  think  more  of 
the  knowledge  and  holiness  of  his  partner,  and 
hold  that  the  better  part  of  true  discretion  is 
to  be  found  in  the  judgment  of  another  rather 
than  in  his  own. 


1  Prov.  x.  12. 


2  2  Cor.  xi.  14. 


3  Phil.  ii.  1-3  ;  Rom.  xii.  10. 


454 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

!         Why  inferiors  should  not  be  despised  in  Conference. 

For  it  often  happens  either  by  an  illusion 
of  the  devil  or  by  the  occurrence  of  a  human 
mistake  (by  which  every  man  in  this  life  is 
liable  to  be  deceived)  that  sometimes  one 
who  is  keener  in  intellect  and  more  learned, 
gets  some  wrong  notion  in  his  head,  while  he 
who  is  duller  in  wits  and  of  less  worth,  con- 
ceives the  matter  better  and  more  truly.  And 
therefore  no  one,  however  learned  he  may  be, 
should  persuade  himself  in  his  empty  vanity 
that  he  cannot  require  conference  with  another. 
For  even  if  no  deception  of  the  devil  blinds 
his  judgment,  yet  he  cannot  avoid  the  noxious 
snares  of  pride  and  conceit.  For  who  can 
arrogate  this  to  himself  without  great  danger, 
when  the  chosen  vessel  in  whom,  as  he  main- 
tained, Christ  Himself  spoke,  declares  that  he 
went  up  to  Jerusalem  simply  and  solely  for 
this  reason,  that  he  might  in  a  secret  discus- 
sion confer  with  his  fellow-Apostles  on  the 
gospel  which  he  preached  to  the  gentiles  by 
the  revelation  and  co-operation  of  the  Lord? 
By  which  fact  we  are  shown  that  we  ought  not 
only  by  these  precepts  to  preserve  unanimity 
and  harmony,  but  that  we  need  not  fear  any 
crafts  of  the  devil  opposing  us,  or  snares  of  his 
illusions. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

How  love  does  not  only  belong  to  God  but  is  God. 

Finally  so  highly  is  the  virtue  of  love  ex- 
tolled that  the  blessed  Apostle  John  declares 
that  it  not  only  belongs  to  God  but  that  it  is 
God,  saying:  ''God  is  love:  he  therefore  that 
abideth  in  love,  abideth  in  God,  and  God  in 
him. "  x  For  so  far  do  we  see  that  it  is  divine, 
that  we  find  that  what  the  Apostle  says  is 
plainly  a  living  truth  in  us :  "  For  the  love  of 
God  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  Who  dwelleth  in  us."2  For  it  is  the 
same  thing  as  if  he  said  that  God  is  shed 
abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the  Holy  Ghost  Who 
dwelleth  in  us :  who  also,  when  we  know  not 
what  we  should  pray  for,  "makes  intercession 
for  us  with  groanings  that  cannot  be  uttered : 
But  He  that  searcheth  the  hearts  knoweth 
what  the  Spirit  desireth,  for  He  asketh  for  the 
saints  according:  to  God."  3 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

On  the  different  grades  of  love. 

It  is  possible  then  for  all  to  show  that  love 
which  is  called  fa/dm},  of  which  the  blessed 
Apostle  says :  "  While  therefore  we  have  time, 
let  us  do  good  unto  all  men,  but  specially  to 
them  that  are  of  the  household  of  faith."4 
And  this  should  be  shown  to  all  men  in 
general  to  such  an  extent  that  we  are  actually 
commanded  by  our  Lord  to  yield  it  to  our 
enemies,  for  He  says:  "Love  your  enemies."5 
But  didcdfotg,  i.e.,  affection  is  shown  to  but 
a  few  and  those  who  are  united  to  us  by  kin- 
dred dispositions  or  by  a  tie  of  goodness; 
though  indeed  affection  seems  to  have  many 
degrees  of  difference.  For  in  one  way  we  love 
our  parents,  in  another  our  wives,  in  another 
our  brothers,  in  another  our  children,  and  there 
is  a  wide  difference  in  regard  to  the  claims 
of  these  feelings  of  affection,  nor  is  the  love  of 
parents  towards  their  children  always  equal. 
As  is  shown  by  the  case  of  the  patriarch  Jacob, 
who,  though  he  was  the  father  of  twelve  sons 
and  loved  them  all  with  a  father's  love,  yet 
loved  Joseph  with  a  deeper  affection,  as  Scrip- 
ture clearly  shows:  "But  his  brethren  envied 
him,  because  his  father  loved  him ;  "  6  evidently 
not  that  that  good  man  his  father  failed  in 
greatly  loving  the  rest  of  his  children,  but  that 
in  his  affection  he  clung  to  this  one,  because  he 
was  a  type  of  the  Lord,  more  tenderly  and  in- 
dulgently. This  also,  we  read,  was  very  clearly 
shown  in  the  case  of  John  the  Evangelist, 
where  these  words  are  used  of  him:  "that 
disciple  whom  Jesus  loved, "  '  though  certainly 
i  He  embraced  all  the  other  eleven,  whom  He 
!  had  chosen  in  the  same  way,  with  His  special 
I  love,  as  this  He  shows  also  by  the  witness  of 
the  gospel,  where  He  says:  "As  I  have  loved 
i  you,  so  do  ye  also  love  one  another;  "  of  whom 
elsewhere  also  it  is  said:  "Loving  His  own 
who  were  in  the  world,  He  loved  them  even 
to  the  end. "  8  But  this  love  of  one  in  particu- 
lar did  not  indicate  any  coldness  in  love  for 
the  rest  of  the  disciples,  but  only  a  fuller  and 
more  abundant  love  towards  the  one,  which  his 
prerogative  of  virginity  and  the  purity  of  his 
flesh  bestowed  upon  him.  And  therefore  it 
is  marked  by  exceptional  treatment,  as  being 
something  more  sublime,  because  no  hateful 
comparison  with  others,  but  a  richer  grace 
of  superabundant  love  singled  it  out.  Some- 
thing of  this  sort  too  we  have  in  the  character 
of  the  bride  in  the  Song  of  Songs,  where  she 
isays:  "Set  in  order  love  in  me."9     For  this 


1  i  John  iv.  16. 


2  Rom.  v.  5. 


3  Rom.  viii.  26,  27. 


Gal.  vi.  10. 
S.  Matt.  v.  44. 


0  Gen.  xxxvii.  4. 
7  S.  John  xiii.  23. 


8  lb.  ver.  34,  1. 

9  Cant.  ii.  4. 


FIRST   CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


455 


is  true  love  set  in  order,  which,  while  it  hates 
no  one,  yet  loves  some  still  more  by  reason  of 
their  deserving  it,  and  which,  while  it  loves 
all  in  general,  singles  out  for  itself  some  from 
those,  whom  it  may  embrace  with  a  special 
affection,  and  again  among  those,  who  are 
the  special  and  chief  objects  of  its  love,  sin- 
gles out  some  who  are  preferred  to  others  in 
affection. 

CHAPTER   XV. 

Of  those  who  only  increase  their  own  or  their  brother's 
grievances  by  hiding  them. 

On  the  other  hand  we  know  (and  O !  would 
that  we  did  not  know)  some  of  the  brethren 
who  are  so  hard  and  obstinate,  that  when 
they  know  that  their  own  feelings  are  aroused 
against  their  brother,  or  that  their  brother's 
are  against  them,  in  order  to  conceal  their 
vexation  of  mind,  which  is  caused  by  indig- 
nation at  the  grievance  of  one  or  the  other,  go 
apart  from  those  whom  they  ought  to  smooth 
down  by  humbly  making  up  to  them  and 
talking  with  them;  and  begin  to  sing  some 
verses  of  the  Psalms.  And  these  while  they 
fancy  that  they  are  softening  the  bitter  thoughts 
which  have  arisen  in  their  heart,  increase  by 
their  insolent  conduct  what  they  could  have 
got  rid  of  at  once  if  they  had  been  willing  to 
show  more  care  and  humility,  for  a  well-timed 
expression  of  regret  would  cure  their  own 
feelings  and  soften  their  brother's  heart. 
For  by  that  plan  they  nourish  and  cherish  the 
sin  of  meanness  or  rather  of  pride,  instead  of 
stamping  out  all  inducement  to  quarrelling, 
and  they  forget  the  charge  of  the  Lord  which 
says :  "  Whosoever  is  angry  with  his  brother, 
is  in  danger  of  the  judgment;  "  and:  "  if  thou 
remember  that  thy  brother  hath  aught  against 
thee,  leave  there  thy  gift  before  the  altar, 
and  go  thy  way,  first  be  reconciled  to  thy 
brother,  and  then  come  and  offer  thy  gift."  1 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

How  it  is  that,  if  our  brother  has  any  grudge  against  us,  the 
gifts  of  our  prayers  are  rejected  by  the  Lord. 

So  far  therefore  is  our  Lord  anxious  that 
we  should  not  disregard  the  vexation  of  an- 
other that  He  does  not  accept  our  offerings 
if  our  brother  has  anything  against  us,  i.e., 
He  does  not  allow  prayers  to  be  offered  by  us 
to  Him  until  by  speedy  amends  we  remove 
from  his  (our  brother's)  mind  the  vexation 
which   he  whether   rightly  or  wrongly   feels. 


1  S.  Matt.  v.  22-24. 


For  He  does  not  say:  "if  thy  brother  hath  a 
true  ground  for  complaint  against  thee  leave 
thy  gift  at  the  altar,  and  go  thy  way,  first  be 
reconciled  to  him;"  but  He  says:  "if  thou 
remember  that  thy  brother  hath  aught  against 
thee,"  i.e.,  if  there  be  anything  however 
trivial  or  small,  owing  to  which  your  brother's 
anger  is  roused  against  you,  and  this  comes 
back  to  your  recollection  by  a  sudden  remem- 
brance, you  must  know  that  you  ought  not  to 
offer  the  spiritual  gift  of  your  prayers  until  by 
kindly  amends  you  have  removed  from  your 
brother's  heart  the  vexation  arising  from  what- 
ever cause.  If  then  the  words  of  the  Gospel 
bid  us  make  satisfaction  to  those  who  are 
angry  for  past  and  utterly  trivial  grounds  of 
quarrel,  and  those  which  have  arisen  from 
the  slightest  causes,  what  will  become  of  us 
wretches  who  with  obstinate  hypocrisy  dis- 
regard more  recent  grounds  of  offence,  and 
those  of  the  utmost  importance,  and  due  to 
our  own  faults;  and  being  puffed  up  with  the 
devil's  own  pride, as  we  are  ashamed  to  humble 
ourselves,  deny  that  we  are  the  cause  of  our 
brother's  vexation  and  in  a  spirit  of  rebellion 
disdaining  to  be  subject  to  the  Lord's  com- 
mands, contend  that  they  never  ought  to  be 
observed  and  never  can  be  fulfilled?  And  so 
it  comes  to  pass  that  as  we  make  up  our 
minds  that  He  has  commanded  things  which 
are  impossible  and  unsuitable,  we-  become, 
to  use  the  Apostle's  expression,  "not  doers 
but  judges  of  the  law."  2 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

Of  those  who  hold  that  patience  should  be  shown  to  worldly 
people  rather  than  to  the  brethren. 

This  too  should  be  bitterly  lamented; 
namely,  that  some  of  the  brethren,  when 
angered  by  some  reproachful  words,  if  they 
are  besieged  by  the  prayers  of  some  one  else 
who  wants  to  smooth  them  down,  when  they 
hear  that  vexation  ought  not  to  be  admitted 
or  retained  against  a  brother,  according  to 
what  is  written:  "  Whoever  is  angry  with  his 
brother  is  in  danger  of  the  judgment;  "  and: 
"  Let  not  the  sun  go  down  upon  your  wrath,"  3 
instantly  assert  that  if  a  heathen  or  one  living 
in  the  world  had  said  or  done  this,  it  rightly 
ought  to  be  endured.  But  who  could  stand 
a  brother  who  was  accessory  to  so  great  a 
fault,  or  gave  utterance  to  so  insolent  a 
reproach  with  his  lips!  As  if  patience  were  to 
be  shown  only  to  unbelievers  and  blasphem- 
ers, and  not  to  all  in  general,  or  as  if  anger 
should  be  reckoned  as  bad  when  it  is  against 


2  S.  James  iv.  11. 


3  Eph.  iv.  26. 


I; 


456 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


a  heathen,  but  good  when  it  is  against  a 
brother;  whereas  certainly  the  obstinate  rage 
of  an  angry  soul  brings  about  the  same  injury 
to  one's  self  whoever  may  be  the  subject  against 
whom  it  is  aroused.  But  how  terribly  obsti- 
nate, aye  and  senseless  is  it  for  them,  owing 
to  the  stupidity  of  their  dull  mind,  not  to  be 
able  to  discern  the  meaning  of  these  words,  for 
it  is  not  said :  "  Every  one  who  is  angry  with  a 
stranger  shall  be  in  danger  of  the  judgment," 
which  might  perhaps  according  to  their  inter- 
pretation except  those  who  are  partners  of 
our  faith  and  life,  but  the  word  of  the  Gospel 
most  significantly  expresses  it  by  saying: 
"Every  one  who  is  angry  with  his  brother, 
shall  be  in  danger  of  the  judgment."  And  so 
though  we  ought  according  to  the  rule  of  truth 
to  regard  every  man  as  a  brother,  yet  in  this 
passage  one  of  the  faithful  and  a  partaker 
of  our  mode  of  life  is  denoted  by  the  title  of 
brother  rather  than  a  heathen. 

CHAPTER    XVIII. 

Of  those  who  pretend  to  patience  but  excite  their  brethren  to 
anger  by  their  silence. 

But  what  sort  of  a  thing  is  this,  that  some- 
times we  fancy  that  we  are  patient  because 
when  provoked  we  scorn  to  answer,  but  by 
sullen  silence  or  scornful  motions  and  ges- 
tures so  mock  at  our  angry  brothers  that  by 
our  silent  looks  we  provoke  them  to  anger 
more  than  angry  reproaches  would  have  ex- 
cited them,  meanwhile  thinking  that  we  are  in 
no  way  guilty  before  God,  because  we  have 
let  nothing  fall  from  our  lips  which  could 
brand  us  or  condemn  us  in  the  judgment  of 
men.  As  if  in  the  sight  of  God  mere  words, 
and  not  mainly  the  will  was  called  in  fault, 
and  as  if  only  the  actual  deed  of  sin,  and  not 
also  the  wish  and  purpose,  was  reckoned  as 
wrong  ;  or  as  if  it  would  be  asked  in  the  judg- 
ment only  what  each  one  had  done  and  not 
what  he  also  purposed  to  do.  For  it  is  not 
only  the  character  of  the  anger  roused,  but  also 
the  purpose  of  the  man  who  provokes  it  which 
is  bad,  and  therefore  the  true  scrutiny  of  our 
judge  will  ask,  not  how  the  quarrel  was  stirred 
up  but  by  whose  fault  it  arose :  for  the  pur- 
pose of  the  sin,  and  not  the  way  in  which  the 
fault  is  committed  must  be  taken  into  ac- 
count. For  what  does  it  matter  whether  a 
man  kills  a  brother  with  a  sword  by  himself, 
or  drives  him  to  death  by  some  fraud,  when 
it  is  clear  that  he  is  killed  by  his  wiles  and 
crime?  As  if  it  were  enough  not  to  have 
pushed  a  blind  man  down  with  one's  own 
hand,  though  he  is  equally  guilty  who  scorned 
to  save  him,  when  it  was  in  his  power,  when 


fallen  and  on  the  point  of  tumbling  into  the 
ditch :  or  as  if  he  alone  were  guilty  who  had 
caught  a  man  with  the  hand,  and  not  also  the 
one  who  had  prepared  and  set  the  trap  for 
him,  or  who  would  not  set  him  free  when  he 
might  have  done  so.  So  then  it  is  of  no 
good  to  hold  one's  tongue,  if  we  impose 
silence  upon  ourselves  for  this  reason  that 
by  our  silence  we  may  do  what  would  have 
been  done  by  an  outcry  on  our  part,  simu- 
lating certain  gestures  by  which  he  whom 
we  ought  to  have  cured,  may  be  made  still 
more  angry,  while  we  are  commended  for  all 
this,  to  his  loss  and  damage :  as  if  a  man 
were  not  for  this  very  reason  the  more  guilty, 
because  he  tried  to  get  glory  for  himself  out 
of  his  brother's  fall.  For  such  a  silence 
will  be  equally  bad  for  both  because  while 
it  increases  the  vexation  in  the  heart  of 
another,  so  it  prevents  it  from  being  removed 
from  one's  own:  and  against  such  persons  the 
prophet's  curse  is  with  good  reason  directed: 
"  Woe  to  him  that  giveth  drink  to  his  friend, 
and  presenteth  his  gall,  and  maketh  him 
drunk,  that  he  may  behold  his  nakedness. 
He  is  filled  with  shame  instead  of  glory."1 
And  this  too  which  is  said  of  such  people  by 
another:  "For  every  brother  will  utterly  sup- 
plant, and  every  friend  will  walk  deceitfully. 
And  a  man  shall  mock  his  brother,  and  they 
will  not  speak  the  truth,  for  they  have  bent 
their  tongue  like  a  bow  for  lies  and  not  for 
truth."  2  But  often  a  feigned  patience  excites 
to  anger  more  keenly  than  words,  and,  a 
spiteful  silence  exceeds  the  most  awful  insults 
in  words,  and  the  wounds  of  enemies  are  more 
easily  borne  than  the  deceitful  blandishment 
of  mockers,  of  which  it  is  well  said  by  the 
prophet:  "Their  words  are  smoother  than 
oil,  and  yet  they  are  darts:"  and  elsewhere 
"the  words  of  the  crafty  are  soft:  but  they 
smite  within  the  belly:"  to  which  this  also 
may  be  finely  applied:  "With  the  mouth  he 
speaks  peace  to  his  friend,  but  secretly  he 
layeth  snares  for  him ;  "  with  which  however 
the  deceiver  is  rather  deceived,  for  "  if  a  man 
prepares  a  net  before  his  friend,  it  surrounds 
his  own  feet;  "  and:  "if  a  man  digs  a  pit  for 
his  neighbour,  he  shall  fall  into  it  himself."8 
Lastly  when  a  great  multitude  had  come  with 
swords  and  staves  to  take  the  Lord,  none  of 
the  murderers  of  the  author  of  our  life  stood 
forth  as  more  cruel  than  he  who  advanced 
before  them  all  with  a  counterfeit  respect  and 
salutation  and  offered  a  kiss  of, feigned  love; 
to  whom  the  Lord  said:  "Judas,  betrayest  thou 
the  Son  of  man  with  a  kiss?  "  4  i.e.,  the  bitter- 


1  Hab.  ii.   15,  16.  *  Jer.  ix.  4,  5. 

3  Ps.  liv.  (lv.)  22  ;  Prov.  xxvi.  22  ;  Jer.ix.  S;  Prov.  xxix.  5  ;  xxvi.  27. 

4  S.  Luke  xxii.  48. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


457 


ness  of  thy  persecution  and  hatred  has  taken 
as  a  cloke  this  which  expresses  the  sweetness 
of  true  love.  More  openly  too  and  more  ener- 
getically does  He  emphasize  the  force  of  this 
grief  by  the  prophet,  saying :  "  For  if  mine 
enemy  had  cursed  me,  I  would  have  borne  it : 
and  if  he  who  hated  me  had  spoken  great 
things  against  me,  I  would  have  hid  myself 
from  him.  But  it  was  thou,  a  man  of  one 
mind,  my  guide,  and  my  familiar  friend:  who 
didst  take  sweet  meats  together  with  me :  in 
the  house  of  God  we  walked  with  consent."  1 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

Of  those  who  fast  out  of  rage. 

There  is  too  another  evil  sort  of  vexation 
which  would  not  be  worth  mentioning  were 
it  not  that  we  know  it  is  allowed  by  some  of 
the  brethren  who,  when  they  have  been  vexed 
or  enraged  actually  abstain  persistently  from 
food,  so  that  (a  thing  which  we  cannot  men- 
tion without  shame)  those  who  when  they  are 
calm  declare  that  they  cannot  possibly  put  off 
their  refreshment  to  the  sixth  or  at  most  the 
ninth  hour,  when  they  are  filled  with  vexation 
and  rage  do  not  feel  fasts  even  for  two  days, 
and  support  themselves,  when  exhausted  by 
such  abstinence,  by  a  surfeit  of  anger.  Where- 
in they  are  plainly  guilty  of  the  sin  of  sac- 
rilege, as  out  of  the  devil's  own  rage  they 
endure  fasts  which  ought  specially  to  be  of- 
fered to  God  alone  out  of  desire  for  humili- 
ation of  heart  and  purification  from  sin : 
which  is  much  the  same  as  if  they  were  to 
offer  prayers  and  sacrifices  not  to  God  but 
to  devils,  and  so  be  worthy  of  hearing  this 
rebuke  of  Moses:  "They  sacrificed  to  devils 
and  not  to  God  ;  to  gods  whom  they  knew 
not."2 

CHAPTER   XX. 


Oi  the  feigned  patience  of  some  who  offer  the  other  cheek 
to  bz  smitten. 


We  are  not  ignorant  also  of  another  kind 
of  insanity,  which  we  find  in  some  of  the  breth- 
ren under  colour  of  a  counterfeit  patience,  as 
in  this  case  it  is  not  enough  to  have  stirred 
up  quarrels  unless  they  incite  them  with  irri- 
tating words  so  as  to  get  themselves  smitten, 
and  when  they  have  been  touched  by  the 
slightest  blow,  at  once  they  offer  another 
part  of  their  body  to  be  smitten,  as  if  in  this 
way  they  could  fulfil  to  perfection  that  com- 
mand which  says:   "If  a  man  smite  thee  on 


1  Ps.  liv.  (lv.)  13-15. 


2  Deut.  xxxii.  17. 


the  right  cheek,  offer  him  the  other  also;"3 
while  they  totally  ignore  the  meaning  and 
purpose  of  the  passage.  For  they  fancy 
that  they  are  practising  evangelical  patience 
through  the  sin  of  anger,  for  the  utter  eradi- 
cation of  which  not  only  was  the  exchange 
of  retaliation  and  the  irritation  of  strife  for- 
bidden, but  the  command  was  actually  given 
us  to  mitigate  the  wrath  of  the  striker  by  the 
endurance  of  a  double  wrong. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

A  question  how  if  we  obey  the  commands  of  Christ  we  can  fail 
of  evangelical  perfection. 

Germanus:  How  can  we  blame  one  who 
satisfies  the  command  of  the  Gospel  and  Jiot 
only  does  not  retaliate,  but  is  actually  pre- 
pared to  have  a  double  wrong  offered  to  him  ? 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

The  answer  that  Christ  looks  not  only  at  the  action  but  also 
at  the  will. 

Joseph:  As  was  said  a  little  before,  we 
must  look  not  only  at  the  thing  Avhich  is 
done,  but  also  at  the  character  of  the  mind 
and  the  purpose  of  the  doer.  And  therefore 
if  you  weigh  with  a  careful  scrutiny  of  heart 
what  is  done  by  each  man  and  consider  with 
what  mind  it  is  done  or  from  what  feeling 
it  proceeds,  you  will  see  that  the  virtue  of 
patience  and  gentleness  cannot  possibly  be 
fulfilled  in  the  opposite  spirit,  i.e.,  that  of 
impatience  and  rage.  Since  our  Lord  and 
Saviour,  when  giving  us  a  thorough  lesson  on 
the  virtue  of  patience  and  gentleness  (i.e., 
teaching  us  not  only  to  profess  it  with  our 
lips,  but  to  store  it  up  in  the  inmost  recesses 
of  the  soul)  gave  us  this  summary  of  evange- 
lical perfection,  saying:  "If  any  one  smites 
thee  on  thy  right  cheek,  offer  him  the  other 
also"4  (doubtless  the  "right"  cheek  is  men- 
tioned, as  another  "right"  cheek  cannot  be 
found  except  in  the  face  of  the  inner  man,  so 
to  speak),  as  by  this  He  desires  entirely  to 
remove  all  incitement  to  anger  from  the  deep- 
est recesses  of  the  soul,  i.e.,  that  if  your 
external  right  cheek  has  received  a  blow  from 
the  striker,  the  inner  man  also  humbly  con- 
senting may  offer  its  right  cheek  to  be  smitten, 
sympathizing  with  the  suffering  of  the  out- 
ward man,  and  in  a  way  submitting  and  sub- 
jecting its  own  body  to  wrong  from  the  striker, 
that  the  inner  man  may  not  even   silently  be 

3  S.  Matt.  v.  39.  *  Ibid. 


458 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


disturbed  in  itself  at  the  blows  of  the  outward 
man.  You  see  then  that  they  are  very  far 
from  evangelical  perfection,  which  teaches  that 
patience  must  be  maintained,  not  in  words, 
but  in  inward  tranquillity  of  heart,  and  which 
bids  us  preserve  it  whatever  evil  happens, 
that  we  may  not  only  keep  ourselves  always 
from  disturbing  anger,  but  also  by  submitting 
to  their  injuries  compel  those,  who  are  dis- 
turbed by  their  own  fault,  to  become  calm, 
when  they  have  had  their  fill  of  blows;  and  so 
overcome  their  rage  by  our  gentleness.  And 
so  also  we  shall  fulfil  these  words  of  the 
Apostle :  "  Be  not  overcome  of  evil,  but  over- 
come evil  with  good."  1  And  it  is  quite  clear 
that  this  cannot  be  fulfilled  by  those  who  utter 
words  of  gentleness  and  humility  in  such  a 
spirit  and  rage  that  they  not  only  fail  to  les- 
sen the  fire  of  wrath  which  has  been  kindled, 
but  rather  make  it  blaze  up  the  more  fiercely 
both  in  their  own  feelings  and  in  those  of 
their  enraged  brother.  But  these,  even  if  they 
could  in  some  way  keep  calm  and  quiet  them- 
selves, would  yet  not  bear  any  fruits  of  right- 
eousness, while  they  claim  the  glory  of  patience 
on  their  part  by  their  neighbour's  loss,  and 
are  thus  altogether  removed  from  that  Apos- 
tolic love  which  "  Seeketh  not  her  own,"  2  but 
the  things  of  others.  For  it  does  not  so  desire 
riches  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  profit  for  itself 
out  of  one's  neighbour's  loss,  nor  does  it  wish 
to  gain  anything  if  it  involves  the  spoiling  of 
another. 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

How  he  is  the  strong  and  vigorous  man,  who  yields  to  the  will 
of  another. 

But  you  must  certainly  know  that  in  general 
he  plays  a  stronger  part  who  subjects  his  own 
will  to  his  brother's,  than  he  who  is  found  to 
be  the  more  pertinacious  in  defending  and 
clinging  to  his  own  decisions.  For  the  former 
by  bearing  and  putting  up  with  his  neighbour 
gains  the  character  of  being  strong  and  vigor- 
ous, while  the  latter  gains  that  of  being  weak 
and  sickly,  who  must  be  pampered  and  petted 
so  that  sometimes  for  the  sake  of  his  peace 
and  quiet  it  is  a  good  thing  to  relax  something 
even  in  necessary  matters.  And  indeed  in  this 
he  nee.d  not  fancy  that  he  has  lost  anything  of 
his  own  perfection,  though  by  yielding  he  has 
given  up  something  of  his  intended  strictness, 
but  on  the  contrary  he  may  be  sure  that  he  has 
gained  much  more  by  his  virtue  of  long-suffer- 
ing and  patience.  For  this  is  the  Apostle's 
command :  "  Ye  who  are  strong  should  bear 
the  infirmities  of  the  weak ;  "  and :  "  Bear  ye 


1  Rom.  xii.  21. 


1  Cor.  xiii.  5. 


one  another's  burdens,  and  so  fulfil  the  law  of 
Christ."  3  For  a  weak  man  will  never  support 
a  weak  man,  nor  can  one  who  is  suffering  in 
the  same  way,  bear  or  cure  one  in  feeble 
health,  but  one  who  is  himself  not  subject 
to  infirmity  brings  remedies  to  one  in  weak 
health.  For  it  is  rightly  said  to  him :  "  Phy- 
sician, heal  thyself."4 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

How  the  weak  are  harmful  and  cannot  bear  wrongs. 

We  must  note  too  the  fact  that  the  nature  of 
the  weak  is  always  such  that  they  are  quick 
and  ready  to  offer  reproaches  and  sow  the 
seeds  of  quarrels,  while  they  themselves  can- 
not bear  to  be  .touched  by  the  shadow  of  the 
very  slightest  wrong,  and  while  they  are  riding 
roughshod  over  us  and  flinging  about  wanton 
charges,  they  are  not  able  to  bear  even  the 
slightest  and  most  trivial  ones  themselves. 
And  so  according  to  the  aforesaid  opinion  of 
the  Elders  love  cannot  last  firm  and  unbroken 
except  among  men  of  the  same  purpose  and 
goodness.  For  at  some  time  or  other  it  is  sure 
to  be  broken,  however  carefully  it  may  be 
guarded  by  one  of  them. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

A  question  how  he  can  be  strong  who  does  not  always  support 
the  weak. 

Germ  anus:  How  then  can  the  patience  of 
a  perfect  man  be  worthy  of  praise  if  it  cannot 
always  bear  the  wreak? 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

The  answer  that  the  weak  does  not  always  allow  himself  to  be 
borne. 

Joseph  :  I  did  not  say  that  the  virtue  and 
endurance  of  one  who  is  strong  and  robust 
would  be  overcome,  but  that  the  miserable 
condition  of  the  weak,  encouraged  by  the  toler- 
ance of  the  perfect,  and  daily  growing  worse, 
is  sure  to  give  rise  to  reasons  on  account  of 
which  he  himself  ought  no  longer  to  be  borne; 
or  else  with  a  shrewd  suspicion  that  the 
patience  of  his  neighbour  shows  up  and  sets 
off  his  own  impatience  at  some  time  or  other 
he  chooses  to  make  off  rather  than  always  to 
be  borne  by  the  magnanimity  of  the  other. 
This  then  we  think  should  be  above  all  else 
observed  by  those  who  want  to  keep  the  affec- 


3  Rom.  xv.  1 ;  Gal.  vi.  2. 


S.  Luke  iv.  23. 


FIRST   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


459 


tion  of  their  companions  unimpaired;  viz., 
that  first  of  all  when  provoked  by  any  wrongs, 
a  monk  should  keep  not  only  his  lips  but  even 
the  depth  of  his  breast  unmoved:  but  if  he 
finds  that  they  are  even  slightly  disturbed,  let 
him  keep  himself  in  by  entire  silence,  and 
diligently  observe  what  the  Psalmist  speaks 
of:  "I  was  troubled  and  spake  nothing;" 
and:  "I  said  I  will  take  heed  to  thy  ways  that 
I  offend  not  with  my  tongue.  I  have  set  a 
guard  to  my  mouth,  when  the  sinner  stood 
against  me.  I  was  dumb  and  was  humbled, 
and  kept  silence  from  good  things;"1  and  he 
should  not  pay  any  heed  to  his  present  state, 
nor  give  vent  to  what  his  violent  rage  suggests 
and  his  exasperated  mind  expresses  at  the 
moment,  but  should  dwell  on  the  grace  of  past 
love  or  look  forward  in  his  mind  to  the  re- 
newal and  restoration  of  peace,  and  contem- 
plate it  even  in  the  very  hour  of  rage,  as  if 
it  were  sure  presently  to  return.  And  while 
he  is  reserving  himself  for  the  delight  of 
harmony  soon  to  come,  he  will  not  feel  the  bit- 
terness of  the  present  quarrel  and  will  easily 
make  such  answers  that,  when  love  is  restored, 
he  will  not  be  able  to  accuse  himself  as  guilty 
or  be  blamed  by  the  other;  and  thus  he  will 
fulfil  these  words  of  the  prophet :  "  In  wrath 
remember  mercy. "  2 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

How  anger  should  be  repressed. 

We  ought  then  to  restrain  every  movement 
of  anger  and  moderate  it  under  the  direction 
of  discretion,  that  we  may  not  by  blind  rage 
be  hurried  into  that  which  is  condemned  by 
Solomon :  "  The  wicked  man  expends  all  his 
anger,  but  the  wise  man  dispenses  it  bit  by 
bit,"3  i.e.,  a  fool  is  inflamed  by  the  passion 
of  his  anger  to  avenge  himself;  but  a  wise 
man,  by  the  ripeness  of  his  counsel  and  mode- 
ration little  by  little  diminishes  it,  and  gets 
rid  of  it.  Something  of  the  same  kind  too 
is  this  which  is  said  by  the  Apostle :  "  Not 
avenging  yourselves,  dearly  beloved :  but  give 
place  to  wrath,"4  i.e.,  do  not  under  the  com- 
pulsion of  wrath  proceed  to  vengeance,  but 
give  place  to  wrath,  i.e.,  do  not  let  your  hearts 
be  confined  in  the  straits  of  impatience  and 
cowardice  so  that,  when  a  fierce  storm  of 
passion  rises,  you  cannot  endure  it;  but  be 
ye  enlarged  in  your  hearts,  receiving  the  ad- 
verse waves  of  anger  in  the  wide  gulf  of  that 
love  which  "suffereth  all  things,  beareth  all 


1  Ps.  lxxvi.  (lxxvii.)  5;  xxxviii.  (xxxix.)  2,  3.        3  Prov.  xxix.  11.      E  1  Cor.  xiii.  7.  7  Prov.  xii.  16. 

2  Hab.  iii.  2.  *  Rom.  xii.  19.         °  Eccl.  vii.  9 ;  Prov.  xxv.  8.    8  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  32. 


things ;  "  5  and  so  your  mind  will  be  enlarged 
with  wide  long-suffering  and  patience,  and 
will  have  within  it  safe  recesses  of  counsel, 
in  which  the  foul  smoke  of  anger  will  be 
received  and  be  diffused  and  forthwith  vanish 
away;  or  else  the  passage  may  be  taken  in 
this  way:  we  give  place  to  wrath,  as  often 
as  we  yield  with  humble  and  tranquil  mind 
to  the  passion  of  another,  and  bow  to  the 
impatience  of  the  passionate,  as  if  we  ad- 
mitted that  we  deserved  any  kind  of  wrong. 
But  those  who  twist  the  meaning  of  the  per- 
fection of  which  the  Apostle  speaks  so  as  to 
make  out  that  those  give  place  to  anger,  who 
go  away  from  a  man  in  a  rage,  seem  to  me 
not  to  cut  off  but  rather  to  foment  the  incite- 
ment to  quarrelling,  for  unless  a  neighbour's 
wrath  is  overcome  at  once  by  amends  being 
humbly  made,  a  man  provokes  rather  than 
avoids  it  by  his  flight.  And  there  is  some- 
thing like  this  that  Solomon  says:  "Be  not 
hasty  in  thy  spirit  to  be  wroth,  for  anger 
reposes  in  the  bosom  of  fools;"  and:  "Be 
not  quick  to  rush  into  a  quarrel,  lest  thou 
repent  thereof  at  the  last."6  For  he  does 
not  blame  a  hasty  exhibition  of  quarrelling 
and  anger  in  such  a  way  as  to  praise  a  tardy 
one.  In  the  same  way  too  must  this  be  taken : 
"  A  fool  declares  his  anger  in  the  very  same 
hour,  but  a  prudent  man  hides  his  shame."7 
For  he  does  not  lay  it  down  that  a  shameful 
outburst  of  anger  ought  to  be  hidden  by  wise 
men  in  such  a  way  that  while  he  blames  a 
speedy  outburst  of  anger  he  fails  to  forbid 
a  tardy  one,  as  certainly,  if  owing  to  human 
weakness  it  does  burst  forth,  he  means  that 
it  should  be  hidden  for  this  reason,  that 
while  for  the  moment  it  is  wisely  covered 
up,  it  may  be  destroyed  forever.  For  the 
nature  of  anger  is  such  that  when  it  is  given 
room  it  languishes  and  perishes,  but  if  openly 
exhibited,  it  burns  more  and  more.  The 
hearts  then  should  be  enlarged  and  opened 
wide,  lest  they  be  confined  in  the  narrow 
straits  of  cowardice,  and  be  filled  with  the 
swelling  surge  of  wrath,  and  so  we  become 
unable  to  receive  what  the  prophet  calls  the 
"exceeding  broad"  commandment  of  God  in 
our  narrow  heart,  or  to  say  with  the  prophet : 
"  I  have  run  the  way  of  thy  commandments 
for  thou  hast  enlarged  my  heart."  8  For  that 
long-suffering  is  wisdom  we  are  taught  by 
very  clear  passages  of  Scripture :  for  "  a  man 
who  is  long-suffering  is  great  in  prudence ; 
but  a  coward  is  very  foolish."9  And  there- 
fore Scripture  says  of  him  who  to  his  credit 
asked  the  gift  of  wisdom  from  the  Lord : 
"God  gave    Solomon   wisdom  and   prudence 


9  Prov.  xiv.  29. 


460 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


exceeding  much,    and  largeness   of   heart  as 
the  sand  of  the  sea  for  multitude."  * 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

How  friendships  entered  upon  by  conspiracy  cannot  be  lasting 
ones. 

This  too  has  been  often  proved  by  many 
experiments;  viz.,  that  those  who  entered 
the  bonds  of  friendship  from  a  beginning  of 
conspiracy,  cannot  possibly  preserve  their  har- 
mony unbroken;  either  because  they  tried 
to  keep  it  not  out  of  their  desire  for  perfec- 
tion nor  because   of   the  sway  of  Apostolic 


love,  but  out  of  earthly  love,  and  because  of 
their  wants  and  the  bonds  of  their  agreement; 
or  else  because  that  most  crafty  foe  of  ours 
hurries  them  on  the  more  speedily  to  break 
the  chains  of  their  friendship  in  order  that 
he  may  make  them  breakers  of  their  oath. 
This  opinion  then  of  the  most  prudent  men 
is  most  certainly  established;  viz.,  that  true 
harmony  and  undivided  union  can  only  exist 
among  those  whose  life  is  pure,  and  who  are 
men  of  the  same  goodness  and  purpose. 

Thus  much  the  blessed  Joseph  discoursed 
in  his  spiritual  talk  on  friendship,  and  fired 
us  with  a  more  ardent  desire  to  preserve  the 
love  of  our  fellowship  as  a  lasting  one. 


XVII. 
THE   SECOND   CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT  JOSEPH. 

ON  MAKING   PROMISES. 


CHAPTER   I. 

Of  the  vigils  which  we  endured. 

When  then  the  previous  Conference  was 
ended,  and  the  intervening  silence  of  night 
as  well,  as  we  had  been  conducted  by  the  holy 
Abbot  Joseph  to  a  separate  cell  for  the  sake 
of  quiet,  but  had  passed  the  whole  night  with- 
out sleep  (since  owing  to  his  words  a  fire  was 
raging  in  our  hearts),  we  came  forth  from  the 
cell  and  retired  about  a  hundred  yards  from  it 
and  sat  down  in  a  secluded  spot.  And  so  as 
an  opportunity  was  given  by  the  shades  of 
night  for  secret  and  familiar  converse  to- 
gether, as  we  sat  there  Abbot  Germanus 
groaned  heavily. 

CHAPTER    II. 

Of  the  anxiety  of  Abbot  Germanus  at  the  recollection  of  our 
promise. 

What  are  we  doing?  said  he.  For  we  see 
that  we  are  involved  in  a  great  difficulty  and 
are  in  an  evil  plight,  as  reason  itself  and  the 
life  of  the  saints  is  effectually  teaching  us 
what  is  the  best  thing  for  our  progress  in  the 
spiritual  life,  and  yet  our  promise  given  to  the 
Elders  does  not  allow  us  to  choose  what  is 
helpful.      For  we  might,  by  the  examples  of 

1  1  Kings  iv.  29. 


such  great  men,  be  formed  for  a  more  perfect 
life  and  aim,  were  it  not  that  the  terms  of 
our  promise  compelled  us  to  return  at  once 
to  the  monastery.  But  if  Ave  return  thither, 
we  shall  never  get  another  chance  of  coming 
here  again.  But  if  we  stay  here  and  choose 
to  carry  out  our  wishes,  what  becomes  of  the 
faith  of  the  oath  which  we  are  aware  that  we 
gave  to  our  Elders  promising  a  speedy  return; 
that  we  might  be  allowed  to  make  a  hasty 
round  of  the  monasteries  and  saints  of  this 
province?  And  when  in  this  state  of  tumult 
we  could  not  make  up  our  minds  what  we 
ought  to  decide  on  the  state  of  our  salvation 
we  simply  testified  by  our  groans  the  hard 
fate  of  our  condition,  upbraiding  the  audacity 
of  our  impudence,  and  yet  hating  the  shame 
which  was  natural  to  us,  weighed  down  by 
which  we  could  not  in  any  other  way  resist 
the  prayers  of  those  who  kept  us  back  against 
our  profit  and  purpose,  except  by  the  promise 
of  a  speedy  return,  as  we  wept  indeed  that 
we  laboured  under  the  fault  of  that  shame, 
of  which  it  is  said  "There  is  a  shame  that 
bringeth  sin."  2 

CHAPTER    III. 

My  ideas  on  this  subject. 

Then  I  replied:  The  counsel  or  rather  the 
authority  of  the  Elder  to  whom  we  ought  to 

2  Prov.  xx vi.  11. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


461 


refer  our  anxieties  would  make  a  short  way 
out  of  our  difficulties,  and  whatever  is  decided 
by  his  verdict,  may,  like  a  divine  and  heavenly 
reply,  put  an  end  to  all  our  troubles.  And 
we  need  not  have  any  doubt  of  what  is  given 
to  us  by  the  Lord  through  the  lips  of  this 
Elder,  both  for  the  sake  of  his  merits  and  for 
our  own  faith.  For  by  His  gift  believers  have 
often  obtained  saving  counsel  from  unworthy 
people,  and  unbelievers  from  saints,  as  the 
Lord  grants  this  either  on  account  of  the 
merit  of  those  who  answer,  or  on  account  of 
the  faith  of  those  who  ask  advice.  And  so 
the  holy  Abbot  Germanus  caught  eagerly  at 
these  words  as  if  I  had  uttered  them  not  of 
myself  but  at  the  prompting  of  the  Lord,  and 
when  we  had  waited  a  little  for  the  coming 
of  the  Elder  and  the  approaching  hour  of  the 
nocturnal  service,  after  we  had  welcomed  him 
with  the  usual  greeting  and  finished  reciting 
the  right  number  of  Psalms  and  prayers,  we 
sat  down  again  as  usual  on  the  same  mats  on 
which  we  had  settled  ourselves  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Abbot  Joseph's  question  and  our 'answer  on  the  origin  of  our 
anxiety. 

Then  the  venerable  Joseph  saw  that  we 
were  in  rather  low  spirits,  and,  guessing  that 
this  was  not  the  case  without  reason,  addressed 
us  in  these  words  of  the  patriarch  Joseph: 
"  Why  are  your  faces  sad  today  ?  "  1  to  whom 
we  answered:  We  are  not  like  those  bond 
slaves  of  Pharaoh  who  have  seen  a  dream  and 
there  is  none  to  interpret  it,  but  I  admit  that 
we  have  passed  a  sleepless  night  and  there 
is  no  one  to  lighten  the  weight  of  our  troubles 
unless  the  Lord  may  remove  them  by  your 
wisdom.  Then  he,  who  recalled  the  excel- 
lence of  the  patriarch  both  by  his  merits  and 
name,  said:  Does  not  the  cure  of  man's  per- 
plexities come  from  the  Lord?  Let  them 
be  brought  forward:  for  the  Divine  Compas- 
sion is  able  to  give  a  remedy  for  them  by 
means  of  our  advice  according  to  your  faith. 


CHAPTER   V. 

The  explanation  of  Abbot  Germanus  why  we  wanted  to  stay 
in  Egypt,  and  were  drawn  back  to  Syria. 

To  this  Germanus:  We  used  to  think,  said 
he,  that  we  should  go  back  to  our  monastery 


of  your  holiness,  and  that  after  our  return 
we  should  follow,  though  with  but  a  feeble 
rivalry,  what  we  had  learnt  from  your  teach- 
ing. For  this  our  love  for  our  Elders  led  us 
to  promise  them,  while  we  fancied  that  we 
could  in  some  degree  follow  in  that  monastery 
your  sublime  life  and  doctrine.  Wherefore 
as  we  thought  that  by  this  means  all  joy  would 
be  bestowed  upon  us,  so  on  the  other  hand 
we  are  overwhelmed  with  intolerable  grief,  as 
we  find  that  we  cannot  possibly  obtain  in  this 
way  what  we  know  to  be  good  for  us.  On 
both  sides  then  we  are  now  hemmed  in.  For 
if  we  want  to  keep  our  promise  which  we  made 
in  the  presence  of  all  the  brethren  in  the  cave 
where  our  Lord  Himself  shone  forth  from  His 
chamber  in  the  Virgin's  womb,2  and  which 
He  Himself  witnessed,  we  shall  incur  the 
greatest  loss  in  our  spiritual  life.  But  if  we 
ignore  our  promise  and  stay  in  this  district, 
and  choose  to  consider  that  oath  of  ours  as 
of  less  importance  than  our  perfection,  we  are 
afraid  of  the  awful  dangers  of  falsehood  and 
perjury.  But  not  even  by  this  plan  can  we 
lighten  our  burdens;  viz.,  by  fulfilling  the 
terms  of  our  oath  by  a  very  hasty  return,  and 
then  coming  back  again  as  quickly  as  possible 
to  these  parts.  For  although  even  a  small 
delay  is  dangerous  and  hurtful  for  those  who 
are  aiming  at  goodness  and  advance  in  spiri- 
tual things,  yet  still  we  would  keep  our  faith 
and  promise,  though  by  an  unwilling  return, 
were  it  not  that  we  felt  sure  that  we  should  be 
so  tightly  bound  down  both  by  the  authority 
and  also  by  the  love  of  the  Elders,  that  we 
should  henceforth  have  no  opportunity  at  all 
to  come  back  again  to  this  place. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Abbot  Joseph's  question  whether  we  got  more  good  in  Egypt 
than  in  Syria. 

To  this  the  blessed  Joseph,  after  a  short 
silence :  Are  you  sure,  said  he,  that  you  can 
get  more  profit  in  spiritual  matters  in  this 
country? 

CHAPTER   VII. 

The  answer  on  the  difference  of  customs  in  the  two  countries. 

Germanus  :  Although  we  ought  to  be  most 
grateful  for  the  teaching  of  those  men  who 
taught  us  from  our  youth  up  to  attempt  great 
things,  and,  by  giving  us  a  taste  of  their  ex- 


abundantly  filled  not  only  with  spiritual  joy '  cellence,  implanted  in  our  hearts  a  splendid 
but  also  with  what  is  profitable  by  the  sight   thirst  for  perfection,  yet  if  any  reliance  is  to 


1  Gen.  xl.  j. 


2  Compare  on  the  Institutes  IV.  c.  xxxi. 


462 


CASSIAN'S   CONFERENCES. 


be  placed  on  our  judgment,  we  cannot  draw 
any  comparison  between  these  customs  and 
those  which  we  learnt  there,  so  as  to  hold  our 
tongues  about  the  inimitable  purity  of  your 
life,  which  we  believe  is  granted  to  you  not 
only  owing  to  the  concentration  of  your  mind 
and  aim,  but  also  owing  to  the  aid  and  assist- 
ance of  the  place  itself.  Wherefore  we  do 
not  doubt  that  for  the  following  of  your  grand 
perfection  this  instruction  which  is  given  to 
us  is  not  enough  by  itself,  unless  we  have  also 
the  help  of  the  life,  and  a  long  course  of  in- 
struction somewhat  dissolves  the  coldness  of 
our  heart  by  daily  training. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

How  those  who  are  perfect  ought  not  to  make  any  promises 
absolutely,  and  whether  decisions  can  be  reversed  without 
sin. 

Joseph:  It  is  good  indeed  and  right  and 
altogether  in  accordance  with  our  profession, 
for  us  effectually  to  perform  what  we  decided 
to  do  in  the  case  of  any  promise.  Wherefore 
a  monk  ought  not  to  make  any  promise  hastily, 
lest  he  may  be  forced  to  do  what  he  incau- 
tiously promised,  or  if  he  is  kept  back  by 
consideration  of  a  sounder  view,  appear  as  a 
breaker  of  his  promise.  But  because  at  the 
present  moment  our  purpose  is  to  treat  not  so 
much  of  a  state  of  health  as  of  the  cure  of 
sickness  we  must  with  salutary  counsel  con- 
sider not  what  you  ought  to  have  done  in  the 
first  instance,  but  how  you  can  escape  from 
the  rocks  of  this  perilous  shipwreck.  When 
then  no  chains  impede  us  and  no  conditions 
restrict  us,  in  the  case  of  a  comparison  of 
good  things,  if  a  choice  is  proposed,  that 
which  is  most  advantageous  should  be  pre- 
ferred: but  when  some  detriment  and  loss 
stands  in  the  way,  in  a  comparison  of  things 
to  our  hurt,  that  should  be  sought  which 
exposes  us  to  the  smallest  loss.  Further,  as 
your  assertion  shows,  when  your  heedless 
promise  has  brought  you  to  this  state  that  in 
either  case  some  serious  loss  and  inconveni- 
ence must  result  to  you,  the  will  in  choosing 
should  incline  to  that  side  which  involves  a 
loss  that  is  more  tolerable,  or  can  be  more 
easily  made  up  for  by  the  remedy  of  making 
amends.  If  then  you  think  that  you  will  get 
more  good  for  your  spirit  by  staying  here  than 
what  accrued  to  you  from  your  life  in  that 
monastery,  and  that  the  terms  of  your  promise 
cannot  be  fulfilled  without  the  loss  of  great 
good,  it  is  better  for  you  to  undergo  the  loss 
from  a  falsehood  and  an  unfulfilled  promise 
(as  it  is  done  once  for' all,  and  need  not  any 


longer  be  repeated  or  be  the  cause  of  other 
sins)  than  for  you  to  incur  that  loss,  through 
which  you  say  that  your  state  of  life  would  be- 
come colder,  and  which  would  affect  you  with 
a  daily  and  unceasing  injury.  For  a  careless 
promise  is  changed  in  such  a  way  that  it  may 
be  pardoned  or  indeed  praised,  if  it  is  turned 
into  a  better  path,  nor  need  we  take  it  as  a 
failure  in  consistency,  but  as  a  correction  of 
rashness,  whenever  a  promise  that  was  faulty 
is  corrected.  And  all  this  may  be  proved  by 
most  certain  witness  from  Scripture,  that  for 
many  the  fulfilment  of  their  promise  has  led 
to  death,  and  on  the  other  hand  that  for  many 
it  has  been  good  and  profitable  to  have  re- 
fused it. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

How  it  is  often  better  to  break  one's  engagements  than  to 
fulfil  them. 

And  both  these  points  are  very  clearly 
shown  by  the  cases  of  S.  Peter  the  Apostle 
and  Herod.  For  the  former,  because  he  de- 
parted from  his  expressed  determination  which 
he  had  as  it  were  confirmed  with  an  oath 
saying  "Thou  shalt  never  wash  my  feet,"1 
gained  an  immortal  partnership  with  Christ, 
whereas  he  would  certainly  have  been  cut  off 
from  the  grace  of  this  blessedness,  if  he  had 
clung  obstinately  to  his  word.  But  the  latter, 
by  clinging  to  the  pledge  of  his  ill-considered 
oath,  became  the  bloody  murderer  of  the 
Lord's  forerunner,  and  through  the  vain  fear 
of  perjury  plunged  himself  into  condemna- 
tion and  the  punishment  of  everlasting  death. 
In  everything  then  we  must  consider  the  end, 
and  must  according  to  it  direct  our  course  and 
aim,  and  if  when  some  wiser  counsel  super- 
venes, we  see  it  diverging  to  the  worse  part,  it 
is  better  to  discard  the  unsuitable  arrange- 
ment, and  to  come  to  a  better  mind  rather 
than  to  cling  obstinately  to  our  engagements 
and  so  become  involved  in  worse  sins. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Our  question  about  our  fear  of  the  oath  which  we  gave  in 
the  monastery  in  Syria. 

Germanus  :  In  so  far  as  it  concerns  our 
desire,  which  we  undertook  to  carry  out  for 
the  sake  of  spiritual  profit,  we  were  hoping  to 
be  edified  by  continual  intercourse  with  you. 
For  if  we  were  to  return  to  our  monastery  it  is 
certain  that  we  should  not  only  fail  of  so 
sublime  a  purpose,   but  that  we  should  also 


1  S.  John  xiii.  8. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


463 


suffer  grievous  loss  from  the  mediocrity  of  the 
manner  of  life  there.  But  that  command  of 
the  gospel  frightens  us  terribly:  "Let  your 
speech  be  yea,  yea,  nay,  nay :  but  whatsoever 
is  more  than  these,  is  from  the  evil  one."1 
For  we  hold  that  we  cannot  compensate  for 
transgressing  so  important  a  command  by  any 
righteousness,  nor  can  that  finally  turn  out 
well  which  has  once  been  started  with  a  bad 
beefinnina:. 


CHAPTER   XI. 


The  answer  that  we  must  take  into  account  the  purpose  of  the 
doer  rather  than  the  execution  of  the  business. 


Joseph:  In  every  case,  as  we  said,  we  must 
look  not  at  the  progress  of  the  work  but  at 
the  intention  of  the  worker,  nor  must  we  in- 
quire to  begin  with  what  a  man  has  done,  but 
with  what  purpose,  so  that  we  may  find  that 
some  have  been  condemned  for  those  deeds 
from  which  good  has  afterwards  arisen,  and 
on  the  other  hand  that  some  have  arrived  by 
means  of  acts  in  themselves  reprehensible  at  I 
the  height  of  righteousness.  And  in  the  case 
of  the  former  the  good  result  of  their  actions 
was  of  no  avail  to  them  as  they  took  the  mat- 
ter in  and  with  an  evil  purpose,  and  wanted 
to  bring  about  —  not  the  good  which  actually 
resulted,  but  something  of  the  opposite  cha- 
racter; nor  was  the  bad  beginning  injurious  to 
the  latter,  as  he  put  up  with  the  necessity  of 
a  blameworthy  start,  not  out  of  disregard  for 
God,  or  with  the  purpose  of  doing  wrong,  but 
with  an  eye  to  a  needful  and  holy  end. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

How  a  fortunate  issue  will  be  of  no  avail  to  evil  doers,  while 
bad  deeds  wilV  not  injure  good  men. 

And  that  we  may  make  these  statements 
clear  by  instances  from  Holy  Scripture,  what 
could  be  brought  about  that  was  more  salu- 
tary and  more  to  the  good  of  the  whole  world, 
than  the  saving  remedy  of  the  Lord's  Passion? 
And  yet  it  was  not  only  of  no  advantage,  but 
was  actually  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  traitor 
by  whose  means  it  is  shown  to  have  been 
brought  about,  so  that  it  is  absolutely  said  of 
him:  "It  were  good  for  that  man  if  he  had 
never  been  born."2  For  the  fruits  of  his 
labour  will  not  be  repaid  to  him  according  to 
the  actual  result,  but  according  to  what  he 
wanted   to   do,    and  believed  that  he  would 


1  S.  Matt.  v.  37. 


2  S.  Matt.  xxvi.  24. 


accomplish.  And  again,  what  could  there  be 
more  culpable  than  craft  and  deceit  shown 
even  to  a  stranger,  not  to  mention  one's 
brother  and  father?  And  yet  the  patriarch 
Jacob  not  only  met  with  no  condemnation 
or  blame  for  such  things  but  was  actually 
dowered  with  the  everlasting  heritage  of  the 
blessing.  And  not  without  reason,  for  the 
last  mentioned  desired  the  blessing  destined 
for  the  first-born  not  out  of  a  greedy  desire 
for  present  gain  but  because  of  his  faith  in 
everlasting  sanctification;  while  the  former 
(Judas)  delivered  the  Redeemer  of  all  to 
death,  not  for  the  sake  of  man's  salvation, 
but  from  the  sin  of  covetousness.  And  there- 
fore in  each  case  the  fruits  of  their  action  are 
reckoned  according  to  the  intention  of  the 
mind  and  purpose  of  the  will,  according  to 
which  the  object  of  the  one  was  not  to  work 
fraud,  nor  was  that  of  the  other  to  work  sal- 
vation. For  justly  is  there  repayment  to  each 
man  as  the  recompense  of  reward,  for  what  he 
conceived  in  the  first  instance  in  his  mind, 
and  not  for  what  resulted  from  it  either  well 
or  badly,  against  the  wish  of  the  worker. 
And  so  the  most  just  Judge  regarded  him  who 
ventured  on  such  a  falsehood  as  excusable 
and  indeed  worthy  of  praise,  because  without 
it  he  could  not  secure  the  blessing  of  the  first- 
born; and  that  should  not  be  reckoned  as  a 
sin,  which  arose  from  desire  of  the  blessing. 
Otherwise  the  aforesaid  patriarch  would  have 
been  not  only  unfair  to  his  brother,  but  also 
a  cheat  of  his  father  and  a  blasphemer,  if 
there  had  been  any  other  way  by  which  he 
could  secure  the  gift  of  that  blessing,  and 
he  had  preferred  to  follow  this  which  would 
damage  and  injure  his  brother.  You  see  then 
that  with  God  the  inquiry  is  not  into  the 
carrying  out  of  the  act,  but  into  the  purpose 
of  the  mind.  With  this  preparation  then  for 
a  return  to  the  question  proposed  (for  which 
all  this  has  been  premised)  I  want  you  first 
to  tell  me  for  what  reason  you  bound  your- 
selves in  the  fetters  of  that  promise. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Our  answer  as  to  the  reason  which  demanded  an  oath  from  us. 

Germanus:  The  first  reason,  as  we  said, 
was  that  we  were  afraid  of  vexing  our  Elders 
and  resisting  their  orders;  the  second  was 
that  we  very  foolishly  believed  that,  if  we  had 
learnt  from  you  anything  perfect  or  splendid 
to  hear  or  look  at,  when  we  returned  to  the 
monastery,  we  should  be  able  to  perform  it. 


464 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

The  discourse  of  the  Elder  showing  how  the  plan  of  action 
may  be  changed  without  fault  provided  that  one  keeps  to 
the  carrying  out  of  a  good  intention. 

Joseph  :  As  we  premised,  the  intent  of  the 
mind  brings  a  man  either  reward  or  condem- 
nation, according  to  this  passage:  "Their 
thoughts  between  themselves  accusing  or  also 
defending  one  another,  in  the  day  when  God 
shall  judge  the  secrets  of  men ;  "  and  this  too : 
"  But  I  am  coming  to  gather  together  their 
works  and  thoughts  together  with  all  nations 
and  tongues."1  Wherefore  it  was,  as  I  see, 
from  a  desire  for  perfection  that  you  bound 
yourselves  with  the  chain  of  these  oaths,  as 
you  then  thought  that  by  this  plan  it  could  be 
gained,  while  now  that  a  riper  judgment  has 
supervened,  you  see  that  you  cannot  by  this 
means  scale  its  heights.  And  so  any  departure 
from  that  arrangement,  which  may  seem  to 
have  happened,  will  be  no  hindrance,  if  only 
no  change  in  that  first  purpose  follows.  For  a 
change  of  instrument  does  not  imply  a  deser- 
tion of  the  work,  nor  does  the  choice  of  a 
shorter  and  more  direct  road  argue  laziness 
on  the  path  of  the  traveller.  And  so  in  this 
matter  an  improvement  in  a  short-sighted 
arrangement  is  not  to  be  reckoned  a  breach  of 
a  spiritual  promise.  For  whatever  is  done  out 
of  the  love  of  God  and  desire  for  goodness, 
which  has  "promise  of  the  life  that  now  is 
and  of  that  which  is  to  come,"2  even  though 
it  may  appear  to  commence  with  a  hard  and 
adverse  beginning,  is  most  worthy,  not  only 
of  no  blame,  but  actually  of  praise.  And 
therefore  the  breaking  of  a  careless  promise 
will  be  no  hindrance,  if  in  every  case  the  end, 
i.e.,  the  proposed  aim  at  goodness,  be  main- 
tained. For  we  do  all  for  this  reason,  that 
we  may  be  able  to  show  to  God  a  clean  heart, 
and  if  the  attainment  of  this  is  considered  to 
be  easier  in  this  country  the  alteration  of  the 
agreement  extracted  from  you  will  be  no  hin- 
drance to  you,  if  only  the  perfection  of  that 
purity  for  the  sake  of  which  your  promise  was 
originally  made,  be  the  sooner  secured  accord- 
ins:  to  the  Lord's  will. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

A  question  whether  it  can  be  without  sin  that  our  knowledge 
affords  to  weak  brethren  an  opportunity  for  lying. 

Germanus  :  As  far  as  the  force  of  the  words 
which  have  been  reasonably  and  carefully 
considered,  is  concerned,  our  scruple  about 
our  promise  would  have  easily  been  removed 


1  Rom.  ii.  15,  16;  Is.  Ixvi.  iS 


1  Tim.  iv.  8. 


from  us  were  it  not  that  we  were  terribly 
alarmed  lest  by  this  example  an  opportunity 
for  lying  might  be  offered  to  certain  weaker 
brethren,  if  they  knew  that  the  faith  of  an 
agreement  could  be  .in  any  way  lawfully 
broken,  whereas  this  very  thing  is  forbidden 
in  such  vigorous  and  threatening  terms  by  the 
prophet  when  he  says:  "Thou  shalt  destroy 
all  those  who  utter  a  lie;"  and:  "the  mouth 
that  speaketh  a  lie,  shall  slay  the  soul."  3 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

The  answer  that  Scripture  truth  is  not  to  be  altered  on  account 
of  an  offence  given  to  the  weak. 

Joseph  :  Occasions  and  opportunities  for  de- 
stroying themselves  cannot  possibly  be  want- 
ing to  those  who  are  on  the  road  to  ruin,  or 
rather  who  are  anxious  to  destroy  themselves ; 
nor  are  those  passages  of  Scripture  to  be  re- 
jected and  altogether  torn  out  of  the  volume, 
by  which  the  perversity  of  heretics  is  en- 
couraged, or  the  unbelief  of  the  Jews  increased, 
or  the  pride  of  heathen  wisdom  offended;  but 
surely  they  are  to  be  piously  believed,  and 
firmly  held,  and  preached  according  to  the 
rule  of  truth.  And  therefore  we  should  not, 
because  of  another's  unbelief,  reject  the 
olxopoptag,  i.e.,  the  "economy"  of  the  prophets 
and  saints  which  Scripture  relates,  lest  while 
we  are  thinking  that  we  ought  to  condescend 
to  their  infirmities,  we  stain  ourselves  with 
the  sin  not  only  of  lying  but  of  sacrilege. 
But,  as  we  said,  we  ought  to  admit  these 
according  to  the  letter,  and  explain  how 
they  were  rightly  done.  But  for  those  who 
are  wrongly  disposed,  the  opening  for  lies 
will  not  be  blocked  up  by  this  means,  if  we 
are  trying  either  altogether  to  deny  or  to 
explain  away  by  allegorical  interpretations 
the  truth  of  those  things  which  we  are  going 
to  bring  forward  or  have  already  brought  for- 
ward. For  how  will  the  authority  of  these 
passages  injure  them  if  their  corrupt  will  is 
alone  sufficient  to  lead  them  to  sin?  » 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

How  the  saints  have  profitably  employed  a  lie  like  hellebore. 

And  so  we  ought  to  regard  a  lie  and  to  em- 
ploy it  as  if  its  nature  were  that  of  hellebore; 
which  is  useful  if  taken  when  some  deadly 
disease  is  threatening,  but  if  taken  without 
being  required  by  some  great  danger  is  the 
cause  of   immediate   death.      For  so   also  we 


3  Ps.  v.  7;  Wisd.  i.  n. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


465 


read  that  holy  men  and  those  most  approved 
by  God  employed  lying,  so  as  not  only  to 
incur  no  guilt  of  sin  from  it,  but  even  to 
attain  the  greatest  goodness;  and  if  deceit 
could  confer  glory  on  them,  what  on  the  other 
hand  would  the  truth  have  brought  them  but 
condemnation?  Just  as  Rahab,  of  whom 
Scripture  gives  a  record  not  only  of  no  good 
deed  but  actually  of  unchastity,  yet  simply  for 
the  lie,  by  means  of  which  she  preferred  to 
hide  the  spies  instead  of  betraying  them,  had 
it  vouchsafed  to  her  to  be  joined  with  the 
people  of  God  in  everlasting  blessing.  But  if 
she  had  preferred  to  speak  the  truth  and  to 
regard  the  safety  of  the  citizens,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  she  and  all  her  house  would  not 
have  escaped  the  coming  destruction,  nor 
would  it  have  been  vouchsafed  to  her  to  be 
inserted  in  the  progenitors  of  our  Lord's 
nativity,1  and  reckoned  in  the  list  of  the 
patriarchs,  and  through  her  descendants  that 
followed,  to  become  the  mother  of  the  Saviour 
of  all.  Again  Dalila,  who  to  provide  for  the 
safety  of  her  fellow  citizens  betrayed  the  truth 
she  had  discovered,  obtained  in  exchange 
eternal  destruction,  and  has  left  to  all  men 
nothing  but  the  memory  of  her  sin.  When 
then  any  grave  danger  hangs  on  confession  of 
the  truth,  then  we  must  take  to  lying  as  a 
refuge,  yet  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  for  our  sal- 
vation troubled  by  the  guilt  of  a  humbled  con- 
science. But  where  there  is  no  call  of  the 
utmost  necessity  present,  there  a  lie  should 
be  most  carefully  avoided  as  if  it  were  some- 
thing deadly:  just  as  we  said  of  a  cup  of 
hellebore  which  is  indeed  useful  if  it  is  only 
taken  in  the  last  resort  when  a  deadly  and  in- 
evitable disease  is  threatening,  while  if  it  is 
taken  when  the  body  is  in  a  state  of  sound  and 
rude  health,  its  deadly  properties  at  once  go 
to  find  out  the  vital  parts.  And  this  was 
clearly  shown  of  Rahab  of  Jericho,  and  the 
patriarch  Jacob ;  the  former  of  whom  could 
only  escape  death  by  means  of  this  remedy, 
while  the  latter  could  not  secure  the  blessing 
of  the  first-born  without  it.  For  God  is  not 
only  the  Judge  and  inspector  of  our  words  and 
actions,  but  He  also  looks  into  their  purpose 
and  aim.  And  if  He  sees  that  anything  has 
been  done  or  promised  by  some  one  for  the 
sake  of  eternal  salvation  and  shows  insight 
into  Divine  contemplation,  even  though  it  may 
appear  to  men  to  be  hard  and  unfair,  yet  He 
looks  at  the  inner  goodness  of  the  heart  and 
regards  the  desire  of  the  will  rather  than  the 
actual  words  spoken,  because  He  must  take 
into  account  the  aim  of  the  work  and  the  dis- 
position of   the  doer,   whereby,    as   was   said 


1  Cf.  S.  Matt.  i.  5. 


above,  one  man  may  be  justified  by  means  of 
a  lie,  while  another  may  be  guilty  of  a  sin 
of  everlasting  death  by  telling  the  truth.  To 
which  end  the  patriarch  Jacob  also  had  regard 
when  he  was  not  afraid  to  imitate  the  hairy 
appearance  of  his  brother's  body  by  wrapping 
himself  up  in  skins,  and  to  his  credit  ac- 
quiesced in  his  mother's  instigation  of  a  lie 
for  this  object.  For. he  saw  that  in  this  way 
there  would  be  bestowed  on  him  greater  gains 
of  blessing  and  righteousness  than  by  keep- 
ing to  the  path  of  simplicity:  for  he  did  not 
doubt  that  the  stain  of  this  lie  would  at  once 
be  washed  away  by  the  flood  of  the  paternal 
blessing,  and  would  speedily  be  dissolved 
like  a  little  cloud  by  the  breath  of  the  Holy 
Spirit;  and  that  richer  rewards  of  merit  would 
be  bestowed  on  him  by  means  of  this  dissimu- 
lation which  he  put  on  than  by  means  of  the 
truth,  which  was  natural  to  him. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

An  objection  that  only  those  men  employed  lies  with  impunity, 
who  lived  under  the  law. 

Germanus  :  It  is  no  wonder  that  these 
schemes  were  properly  employed  in  the  Old 
Testament,  and  that  some  holy  men  laudably 
or  at  any  rate  venially  told  lies,  as  we  see 
that  many  worse  things  were  permitted  to  them 
owing  to  the  rude  character  of  the  times.  For 
why  should  we  wonder  that  when  the  blessed 
David  was  fleeing  from  Saul,  in  answer  to  the 
inquiry  of  Abimelech  the  priest  who  said : 
"Why  art  thou  alone,  and  is  no  man  with 
thee?"  he  replied  as  follows:  "The  king 
hath  commanded  me  a  business,  and  said, 
Let  no  man  know  the  thing  for  which  thou  art 
sent  by  me,  for  I  have  appointed  my  servants 
to  such  and  such  a  place ;  and  again  :  "  Hast 
thou  here  at  hand  a  spear  or  a  sword,  for  I 
brought  not  my  own  sword  nor  my  own  weapon 
with  me,  for  the  king's  business  required 
haste;"  or  this,  when  he  was  brought  to 
Achish  king  of  Gath,  and  feigned  himself 
mad  and  frantic,  "and  changed  his  counte- 
nance before  them,  and  slipped  down  between 
their  hands ;  and  stumbled  against  the  doors 
of  the  gate  and  his  spittle  ran  down  on  his 
beard ;  "  2  when  they  were  even  allowed  to  en- 
joy crowds  of  wives  and  concubines,  and  no 
sin  was  on  this  account  imputed  to  them,  and 
when  moreover  they  often  shed  the  blood  of 
their  enemies  with  their  own  hand,  and  this 
was  thought  not  only  worthy  of  no  blame,  but 
actually  praiseworthy?     And  all  these  things 

2  1  Sam.  xxi.  1,  2,  8,  13. 


466 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


we  see  by  the  light  of  the  gospel  are  utterly 
forbidden,  so  that  not  one  of  them  can  be 
done  without  great  sin  and  guilt.  And  in  the 
same  way  we  hold  that  no  lie  can  be  employed 
by  any  one,  I  will  not  say  rightly,  but  not  even 
venially,  however  it  may  be  covered  with  the 
colour  of  piety,  as  the  Lord  says :  "  Let  your 
speech  be  yea,  yea,  nay,  nay :  but  whatsoever 
is  more  than  these  is  of  the  evil  one;"  and 
the  Apostle  also  agrees  with  this:  "And  lie 
not  one  to  another. "  x 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

The  answer,  that  leave  to  lie,  which  was  not  even  granted  under 
the  old  Covenant,  has  rightly  been  taken  by  many. 

Joseph:  All  liberty  in  the  matter  of  wives 
and  many  concubines,  as  the  end  of  time 
is  approaching  and  the  multiplying  of  the 
human  race  completed,  ought  rightly  to  be 
cut  off  by  evangelical  perfection,  as  being  no 
longer  necessary.  For  up  to  the  coming  of 
Christ  it  was  well  that  the  blessing  of  the 
original  sentence  should  be  in  full  vigour, 
whereby  it  was  said:  "Increase  and  multiply, 
and  fill  the  earth."2  And  therefore  it  was 
quite  right  that  •  from  the  root  of  human 
fecundity  which  happily  flourished  in  the 
synagogue,  in  accordance  with  that  dispensa- 
tion of  the  times,  the  buds  of  angelical  vir- 
ginity should  spring,  and  the  fragrant  flowers 
of  continence  be  produced  in  the  Church. 
But  that  lying  was  even  then  condemned  the 
text  of  the  whole  Old  Testament  clearly  shows, 
as  it  says:  "Thou  shall  destroy  all  them  that 
speak  lies;"  and  again:  "The  bread  of  lying 
is  sweet  to  a  man,  but  afterwards  his  mouth  is 
filled  with  gravel;"  and  the  Giver  of  the  law 
himself  says:  "Thou  shalt  avoid  a  lie."  3  But 
we  said  that  it  was  then  properly  employed  as 
a  last  resort  when  some  need  or  plan  of  salva- 
tion was  linked  on  to  it,  on  account  of  which 
it  ought  not  to  be  condemned.  As  is  the  case, 
which  you  mentioned,  of  king  David  when 
in  his  flight  from  the  unjust  persecution  of 
Saul,  to  Abimelech  the  priest  he  used  lying 
words,  not  with  the  object  of  getting  any  gain 
nor  with  the  desire  to  injure  anybody,  but 
simply  to  save  himself  from  that  most  iniqui- 
tous persecution;  inasmuch  as  he  would  not 
stain  his  hands  with  the  blood  of  the  hostile 
king,  so  often  delivered  up  to  him  by  God;  as 
he  said:  "The  Lord  be  merciful  to  me  that  I 
may  do  no  such  thing  to  my  master  the  Lord's 
anointed,  as  to  lay  my  hand  upon  him, 
because   he    is  the   Lord's  anointed."4     And 


1  S.  Matt.  v.  37 ;  Col.  iii.  q. 

3  Ps.  v.  7;  Prov.  xx.  17;  Exod.  xxiii.  7. 


2  Gen.  i.  28. 

4  1  Sam.  xxiv.  7. 


therefore  these  plans  which  we  hear  that  holy 
men  under  the  old  covenant  adopted  either 
from  the  will  of  God,  or  for  the  prefiguring 
of  spiritual  mysteries  or  for  the  salvation  of 
some  people,  we  too  cannot  refuse  altogether, 
when  necessity  constrains  us,  as  we  see  that 
even  apostles  did  not  avoid  them,  where  the 
consideration  of  something  profitable  required 
them:  which  in  the  meanwhile  we  will  for  a 
time  postpone,  while  we  first  discuss  those 
instances  which  we  propose  still  to  bring  for- 
ward from  the  Old  Testament,  and  afterwards 
we  shall  more  suitably  introduce  them  so  as 
more  readily  to  prove  that  good  and  holy  men, 
both  in  the  Old  and  in  the  New  Testament, 
were  entirely  at  one  with  each  other  in  these 
contrivances.  For  what  shall  we  say  of  that 
pious  fraud  of  Hushai  to  Absalom  for  the 
salvation  of  king  David,  which  though  uttered 
with  all  appearance  of  good-will  by  the  de- 
ceiver and  cheat,  and  opposed  to  the  good 
of  him  who  asked  advice,  is  yet  commended 
by  the  authority  of  Holy  Scripture,  which 
says:  "But  by  the  will  of  the  Lord  the  profit- 
able counsel  of  Ahithophel  was  defeated  that 
the  Lord  might  bring  evil  upon  Absalom  ?  "  5 
Nor  could  that  be  blamed  which  was  done 
for  the  right  side  with  a  right  purpose  and 
pious  intent,  and  was  planned  for  the  salva- 
tion and  victory  of  one  whose  piety  was  pleas- 
ing to  God,  by  a  holy  dissimulation.  What 
too  shall  we  say  of  the  deed  of  that  wcman, 
who  received  the  men  who  had  been  sent  to 
king  David  by  the  aforesaid  Hushai,  and 
hid  them  in  a  well,  and  spread  a  cloth  over 
its  mouth,  and  pretended  that  she  was  drying 
pearl-barley,  and  said  "They  passed  on  after 
tasting  a  little  water"; G  and  by  this  invention 
saved  them  from  the  hands  of  their  pursuers? 
Wherefore  answer  me,  I  pray  you,  and  say 
what  you  would  have  done,  if  any  similar 
situation  had  arisen  for  you,  living  ncAv  under 
the  gospel ;  would  you  prefer  to  hide  them 
with  a  similar  falsehood,  saying  in  the  same 
way:  "They  passed  on  after  tasting  a  little 
water,"  and  thus  fulfil  the  command:  "Deliver 
those  who  are  being  led  to  death,  and  spare 
not  to  redeem  these  who  are  being  killed;  "  7 
or  by  speaking  the  truth,  would  you  have 
given  up  those  in  hiding  to  the  men  who 
would  kill  them?  And  what  then  becomes 
of  the  Apostle's  words:  "Let  no  man  seek 
his  own  but  the  things  of  another;''  and: 
"  Love  seeketh  not  her  own,  but  the  things  of 
others;"  and  of  himself  he  says:  "I  seek  not 
mine  own  good  but  the  good  of  many  that 
they  may  be  saved  ?  "  8    For  if  we  seek  our  own, 


5  2  Sam.  xvii.  14. 

6  2  lb.  ver.  20. 


7  Prov.  xxiv.  11. 

8  1  Cor.  x.  24 ;  xiii.  5 ;   1  Cor.  x.  33. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


467 


and  want  obstinately  to  keep  what  is  good 
for  ourselves,  we  must  even  in  urgent  cases 
of  this  sort  speak  the  truth,  and  so  become 
guilty  of  the  death  of  another:  but  if  we 
prefer  what  is  for  another's  advantage  to  our 
own  good,  and  satisfy  the  demands  of  the 
Apostle,  we  shall  certainly  have  to  put  up 
with  the  necessity  of  lying.  And  therefore 
we  shall  not  be  able  to  keep  a  perfect  heart 
of  love,  or  to  seek,  as  Apostolic  perfection 
requires,  the  things  of  others,  unless  we 
relax  a  little  in  those  things  which  concern 
the  strictness  and  perfection  of  our  own  lives, 
and  choose  to  condescend  with  ready  affec- 
tion to  what  is  useful  to  others,  and  so  with 
the  Apostle  become  weak  to  the  weak,  that 
we  may  be  able  to  gain  the  weak. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

How  even  Apostles  thought  that  a  lie  was  often  useful  and  the 
truth  injurious. 

Instructed  by  which  examples,  the  blessed 
Apostle  James  also,  and  all  the  chief  princes 
of  the  primitive  Church  urged  the  Apostle 
Paul  in  consequence  of  the  weakness  of 
feeble  persons  to  condescend  to  a  fictitious 
arrangement  and  insisted  on  his  purifying  him- 
self according  to  the  requirements  of  the  law, 
and  shaving  his  head  and  paying  his  vows,  as 
they  thought  that  the  present  harm  which 
would  come  from  this  hypocrisy  was  of  no 
account,  but  had  regard  rather  to  the  gain 
which  would  result  from  his  still  continued 
preaching.  For  the  gain  to  the  Apostle  Paul 
from  his  strictness  would  not  have  counter- 
balanced the  loss  to  all  nations  from  his 
speedy  death.  And  this  would  certainly  have 
been  then  incurred  by  the  whole  Church  un- 
less this  good  and  salutary  hypocrisy  had 
preserved  him  for  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel. 
For  then  we  may  rightly  and  pardonably  ac- 
quiesce in  the  wrong  of  a  lie,  when,  as  we 
said,  a  greater  harm  depends  on  telling  the 
truth,  and  when  the  good  which  results  to  us 
from  speaking  the  truth  cannot  counterbalance 
the  harm  which  will  be  caused  by  it.  And 
elsewhere  the  blessed  Apostle  testifies  in  other 
words  that  he  himself  always  observed  this 
disposition;  for  when  he  says:  "To  the  Jews 
I  became  as  a  Jew  that  I  might  gain  the  Jews ; 
to  those  who  were  under  the  law  as  being 
under  the  law,  though  not  myself  under  the 
law,  that  I  might  gain  those  who  were  under 
the  law;  to  those,  who  were  without  law,  I 
became  as  without  law,  though  I  was  not  with- 
out the  law  of  God  but  under  the  law  of 
Christ,    that    I    might   gain    those   who  were 


without  law;  to  the  weak  I  became  weak, 
that  I  might  gain  the  weak :  I  became  all 
things  to  all  men,  that  I  might  save  all ; "  x 
what  does  he  show  but  that  according  to  the 
weakness  and  the  capacity  of  those  who  were 
being  instructed  he  always  lowered  himself 
and  relaxed  something  of  the  vigour  of  per- 
fection, and  did  not  cling  to  what  his  own 
strict  life  might  seem  to  demand,  but  rather 
preferred  that  which  the  good  of  the  weak 
might  require?  And  that  we  may  trace  these 
matters  out  more  carefully  and  recount  one 
by  one  the  glories  of  the  good  deeds  of  the 
Apostles,  some  one  may  ask  how  the  blessed 
Apostle  can  be  proved  to  have  suited  himself 
to  all  men  in  all  things.  When  did  he  to 
the  Jews  become  as  a  Jew?  Certainly  in  the 
case  where,  while  he  still  kept  in  his  inmost 
heart  the  opinion  which  he  had  maintained 
to  the  Galatians  saying:  "Behold,  I,  Paul, 
say  unto  you  that  if  ye  be  circumcised  Christ 
shall  profit  you  nothing,"  2  yet  by  circumcis- 
ing Timothy  he  adopted  a  shadow  as  it  were 
of  Jewish  superstition.  And  again,  where 
did  he  become  to  those  under  the  law,  as 
under  the  law?  There  certainly  where  James 
and  all  the  Elders  of  the  Church,  fearing 
lest  he  might  be  attacked  by  the  multitude 
of  Jewish  believers,  or  rather  of  Judaizing 
Christians,  who  had  received  the  faith  of 
Christ  in  such  a  way  as  still  to  be  bound  by 
the  rites  of  legal  ceremonies,  came  to  his 
rescue  in  his  difficulty  with  this  counsel  and 
advice,  and  said:  "Thou  seest,  brother,  how 
many  thousands  there  are  among  the  Jews, 
who  have  believed,  and  they  are  all  zealots 
for  the  law.  But  they  have  heard  of  thee 
that  thou  teachest  those  Jews  who  are  among 
the  Gentiles  to  depart  from  Moses,  saying 
that  they  ought  not  to  circumcise  their  child- 
ren;" and  below:  "Do  therefore  this  that 
we  say  unto  thee:  we  have  four  men  who  have 
a  vow  on  them.  These  take  and  sanctify  thy- 
self with  them  and  bestow  on  them,  that  they 
may  shave  their  heads;  and  all  will  know 
that  the  things  which  they  have  heard  of 
thee  are  false,  but  that  thou  thyself  also 
walkest  keeping  the  law."3  And  so  for  the 
good  of  those  who  were  under  the  law,  he 
trode  under  foot  for  a  while  the  strict  view 
which  he  had  expressed:  "For  I  through  the 
law  am  dead  unto  the  law  that  I  may  live  unto 
God;"4  and  was  driven  to  shave  his  head, 
and  be  purified  according  to  the  law  and  pay 
his  vows  after  the  Mosaic  rites  in  the  Temple. 
Do  you  ask  also  where  for  the  good  of  those 
who  were  utterly  ignorant  of  the  law  of  God, 
he  himself  became  as  if  without  law?     Read 


1  1  Cor.  ix.  20-22. 

2  Gal.  v.  2. 


3  Acts  xxi.  20-24. 

4  Gal.  ii.  19. 


468 


CASSIAN'S   CONFERENCES. 


the  introduction  to  his  sermon  at  Athens 
where  heathen  wickedness  was  flourishing: 
"As  I  passed  by,"  he  says,  "I  saw  your  idols 
and  an  altar  on  which  was  written:  To  the 
unknown  God ;  "  and  when  he  had  thus  started 
from  their  superstition,  as  if  he  himself  also 
had  been  without  law,  under  the  cloke  of  that 
profane  inscription  he  introduced  the  faith  of 
Christ,  saying :  "  What  therefore  ye  ignorantly 
worship,  that  declare  I  unto  you."  And  after 
a  little,  as  if  he  had  known  nothing  whatever 
of  the  Divine  law,  he  chose  to  bring  forward 
a  verse  of  a  heathen  poet  rather  than  a  saying 
of  Moses  or  Christ,  saying:  "As  some  also 
of  your  own  poets  have  said:  for  we  are  also 
His  offspring."  And  when  he  had  thus  ap- 
proached them  with  their  own  authorities, 
which  they  could  not  reject,  thus  confirming 
the  truth  by  things  false,  he  added  and  said: 
"Since  then  we  are  the  offspring  of  God  we 
ought  not  to  think  that  the  Godhead  is  like 
to  gold  or  silver  or  stone  sculptured  by  the 
art  and  device  of  man."1  But  to  the  weak 
he  became  weak,  when,  by  way  of  permission, 
not  of  command,  he  allowed  those  who  could 
not  contain  themselves  to  return  together 
again,2  or  when  he  fed  the  Corinthians  with 
milk  and  not  with  meat,  and  says  that  he  was 
with  them  in  weakness  and  fear  and  much 
trembling.3  But  he  became  all  things  to  all 
men  that,  he  might  save  all,  when  he  says: 
"He  that  eateth  let  him  not  despise  him  that 
eateth  not,  and  let  not  him  that  eateth  not 
judge  him  that  eateth:"  and:  "He  that 
giveth  his  virgin  in  marriage  doeth  well,  and 
he  that  giveth  her  not  in  marriage  doeth 
better;"  and  elsewhere:  "Who,"  says  he,  "is 
weak,  and  I  am  not  weak?  Who  is  offended, 
and  I  burn  not?  "  and  in  this  way  he  fulfilled 
what  he  had  commanded  the  Corinthians,  to 
do  when  he  said :  "  Be  ye  without  offence  to 
Jews  and  Greeks  and  the  Church  of  Christ, 
as  I  also  please  all  men  in  all  things,  not 
seeking  mine  own  profit  but  that  of  the  many, 
that  they  may  be  saved."  4  For  it  had  cer- 
tainly been  profitable  not  to  circumcise  Tim- 
othy, not  to  shave  his  head,  not  to  undergo 
Jewish  purification,  not  to  practice  going 
barefoot,5  not  to  pay  legal  vows;  but  he  did 
all  these  things  because  he  did  not  seek  his 
own  profit  but  that  of  the  many.  And 
although  this  was  done  with  the  full  conside- 
ration of  God,  yet  it  was  not  free  from  dis- 
simulation.     For  one  who  through  the  law  of 


1  Acts  xvii.  23,  29.     -  Cf.  1  Cor.  vii.  5.     3  Cf.  1  Cor.  iii.  2  ;  ii.  3. 

4  Rom.  xiv.  3  ;   1  Cor.  viii.  3S ;  2  Cor.  xi.  29;   1  Cor.  x.  32,  33. 

0  Nudipedalia  non  exercere.  The  expression  is  also  used  by 
Jerome  of  S.  Paul's  purification  in  Jerusalem  (in  Gal.  Book  II.  c.  iv.j, 
though  there  is  nothing  in  the  account  in  the  Acts  about  his  going 
barefoot.  Compare  also  Jerome  against  Jovinian,  Book  I.  c.  viii., 
and  for  the  word,  in  connexion  with  the  rites  of  the  Christian  Church, 
see  Tertullian  Apologeticum,  c.  xl. 


Christ  was  dead  to  the  law  that  he  might  live 
to  God,  and  who  had  made  and  treated  that 
righteousness  of  the  law  in  which  he  had  lived 
blameless,  as  dung,  that  he  might  gain  Christ, 
could  not  with  true  fervour  of  heart  offer  what 
belonged  to  the  law;  nor  is  it  right  to  believe 
that  he  who  had  said:  "  For  if  I  again  rebuild 
what  I  have  destroyed,  I  make  myself  a  trans- 
gressor," 6  would  himself  fall  into  what  he  had 
condemned.  And  to  such  an  extent  is  account 
taken,  not  so  much  of  the  actual  thing  which 
is  done  as  of  the  disposition  of  the  doer,  that 
on  the  other  hand  truth  is  sometimes  found 
to  have  injured  some,  and  a  lie  to  have  done 
them  good.  For  when  Saul  was  grumbling 
to  his  servants  about  David's  flight,  and  say- 
ing: "Will  the  son  of  Jesse  give  you  all  fields 
and  vineyards,  and  make  you  all  tribunes  and 
centurions:  that  all  of  you  have  conspired 
against  me,  and  there  is  no  one  to  inform 
me,"  did  Doeg  the  Edomite  say  anything  but 
the  truth,  when  he  told  him :  "  I  saw  the  son 
of  Jesse  in  Nob,  with  Abimelech  the  son  of 
Ahitub  the  priest,  who  consulted  the  Lord  for 
him,  and  gave  him  victuals,  and  gave  him 
also  the  sword  of  Goliath  the  Philistine?"7 
For  which  true  story  he  deserved  to  be  rooted 
up  out  of  the  land  of  the  living,  and  it  is  said 
of  him  by  the  prophet:  "Wherefore  God  shall 
destroy  thee  forever,  and  pluck  thee  up  and 
tear  thee  out  of  thy  tabernacle,  and  thy  root 
from  the  land  of  the  living:"8  He  then  for 
showing  the  truth  is  forever  plucked  and 
rooted  up  out  of  that  land  in  which  the  harlot 
Rahab  with  her  family  is  planted  for  her  lie : 
just  as  also  we  remember  that  Samson  most 
injuriously  betrayed  to  his  wicked  wife  the 
truth  which  he  had  hidden  for  a  long  time  by 
a  lie,  and  therefore  the  truth  so  inconside- 
rately disclosed  was  the  cause  of  his  own 
deception,  because  he  had  neglected  to  keep 
the  command  of  the  prophet :  "  Keep  the  doors 
of  thy  mouth  from  her  that  sleepeth  in  thy 
bosom. " 9 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

Whether  secret  abstinence  ought  to  be  made  known,  without 
telling  a  lie  about  it,  to  those  who  ask,  and  whether  what 
has  once  been  declined  may  be  taken  in  hand. 

And  to  bring  forward  some  instances  from 
our  unavoidable  and  almost  daily  wants 
which  with  all  our  care  we  can  never  so  guard 
against  as  not  to  be  driven  to  incur  them 
whether  with  or  against  our  will :  what,  I  ask 
you,  is  to  be  done  when,  while  we  are  pro- 
posing to  put  off  our  supper,  a  brother  comes 
and  asks  us  if  we  have  had  it:   is  our  fast  to 


6  Gal.  ii.  18. 

7  1  Sam.  xxii. 


s  Ps.  Ii.  (Hi.)  7. 
9  Micah  ii.  7. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


469 


be  concealed,  and  the  good  act  of  abstinence 
hidden,  or  is  it  to  be  proclaimed  by  telling 
the  truth?  If  we  conceal  it,  to  satisfy  the 
Lord's  command  which  says:  "Thou  shalt 
not  appear  unto  men  to  fast  but  unto  thy 
Father  Who  is  in  secret;"  and  again:  "Let 
not  thy  left  hand  know  what  thy  right  hand 
doeth,"1  we  must  at  once  tell  a  lie.  If  we 
make  manifest  the  good  act  of  abstinence,  the 
word  of  the  gospel  rightly  discourages  us : 
"Verily  I  say  unto  you,  they  have  their 
reward. " 2  But  what  if  any  one  has  refused 
with  determination  a  cup  offered  to  him  by 
some  brother,  denying  altogether  that  he  will 
take  what  the  other,  rejoicing  at  his  arrival, 
begs  and  intreats  him  to  receive?  Is  it  right 
that  he  should  force  himself  to  yield  to  his 
brother  who  goes  on  his  knees  and  bows  him- 
self to  the  ground,  and  who  thinks  that  he  can 
only  show  his  loving  heart  by  this  service,  or 
should  he  obstinately  cling  to  his  own  word 
and  intention? 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

An  objection,  that  abstinence  ought  to  be  concealed,  but  that 
things  that  have  been  declined  should  not  be  received. 

Germanus  :  In  the  former  instance  we 
think  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  better 
for  our  abstinence  to  be  hidden  than  for  it  to 
be  displayed  to  the  inquirers,  and  in  cases  of 
this  sort  we  also  admit  that  a  lie  is  unavoid- 
able. But  in  the  second  there  is  no  need 
for  us  to  tell  a  lie,  first  because  we  can  refuse 
what  is  offered  by  the  service  of  a  brother  in 
such  a  way  as  to  bind  ourselves  in  no  bond 
of  determination,  and  next  because  when  we 
once  refuse  we  can  keep  our  opinion  un- 
changed. 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 

The  answer  that  obstinacy  in  this  decision  is  unreasonable. 

Joseph  :  There  is  no  doubt  that  these  are 
the  decisions  of  those  monasteries  in  which 
the  infancy  of  your  renunciation  was,  as  you 
tell  us,  trained,  as  their  leaders  are  accus- 
tomed to  prefer  their  own  will  to  their 
brother's  supper,  and  most  obstinately  stick 
to  what  they  have  once  intended.  But  our 
Elders,  to  whose  faith  the  signs  of  Apostolical 
powers  have  borne  witness,  and  who  have 
treated  everything  with  judgment  and  discre- 
tion of  spirit  rather  than  with  stiff  obstinacy 
of  mind,  have  laid  down  that  those  men  who 
give  in  to  the    infirmities  of   others,   receive 


1  S.  Matt.  vi.  iS,  3. 


much  richer  fruits  than  those  who  persist  in 
their  determinations,  and  have  declared  that 
it  is  a  better  deed  to  conceal  abstinence,  as 
was  said,  by  this  needful  and  humble  lie, 
rather  than  to  display  it  with  a  proud  show  of 
truth. 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

How  Abbot  Piamun  chose  to  hide  his  abstinence. 

Finally  Abbot  Piamun  3  after  twenty-five 
years  did  not  hesitate  to  receive  some  grapes 
and  wine  offered  to  him  by  a  certain  brother, 
and  at  once  preferred,  against  his  rule,  to 
taste  what  was  brought  him  rather  than  to 
display  his  abstinence  which  was  a  secret  from 
everybody.  For  if  we  would  also  bear  in  mind 
what  we  remember  that  our  Elders  always  did, 
who  used  to  conceal  the  marvels  of  their  own 
good  deeds,  and  their  own  acts,  which  they 
were  obliged  to  bring  forward  in  Conference 
for  the  instruction  of  the  juniors,  under  cover 
of  other  persons,  what  else  can  we  consider 
them  but  an  open  lie?  And  O  that  we 
too  had  anything  worthy  which  we  could 
bring  forward  for  stirring  up  the  faith  of  the 
juniors !  Certainly  we  should  have  no  scruples 
in  following  their  fictions  of  that  kind.  For 
it  is  better  under  the  colour  of  a  figure  like 
that  to  tell  a  lie  than  for  the  sake  of  main- 
taining that  unreasonable  truthfulness  either 
hide  in  ill-advised  silence  what  might  be 
edifying  to  the  hearers,  or  run  into  the  display 
of  an  objectionable  vanity  by  telling  them 
truthfully  in  our  own  character.  And  the 
teacher  of  the  Gentiles  clearly  teaches  us  the 
same  lesson  by  his  teaching,  as  he  chose  to 
bring  forward  the  great  revelations  made  to 
him,  under  the  character  of  some  one  else, 
saying :  "  I  know  a  man  in  Christ,  whether  in 
the  body  or  out  of  the  body  I  cannot  tell, 
God  knoweth,  caught  up  even  unto  the  third 
heaven :  and  I  know  such  a  man,  that  he  was 
caught  up  into  paradise  and  heard  unspeak- 
able words,  which  it  is  not  lawful  for  man  to 
utter."4 

CHAPTER   XXV. 

The  evidence  of  Scripture  on  changes  of  determination. 

It  is  impossible  for  us  briefly  to  run  through 
everything.  For  who  could  count  up  almost  all 
the  patriarchs  and  numberless  saints,  some  of 
whom  for  the  preservation  of  life,  others  out 
of  desire  for  a  blessing,  others  out  of  pity, 
others  to  conceal  some  secret,  others  out  of 
zeal   for   God,    others    in    searching    for   the 

3  On  Piamun  see  the  note  on  XVIII.  i.  4  2  Cor.  xii.  2-4. 


470 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


truth,  became,  so  to  speak,  patrons  of  lying? 
And  as  all  cannot  be  enumerated,  so  all  ought 
not  to  be  altogether  passed  over.  For  piety 
forced  the  blessed  Joseph  to  raise  a  false 
charge  against  his  brethren  even  with  an  oath 
by  the  life  of  the  king,  saying:  "Ye  are 
spies :  to  see  the  nakedness  of  the  land  are  ye 
come;"  and  below:  "send,"  says  he,  "one 
of  you,  and  bring  your  brothers  hither:  but 
ye  shall  be  kept  here  until  your  words  are 
made  manifest  whether  ye  speak  the  truth  or 
no:  but  if  not,  by  the  life  of  Pharaoh,  ye  are 
spies. "  x  For  if  he  had  not  out  of  pity  alarmed 
them  by  this  lie,  he  would  not  have  been 
able  to  see  again  his  father  and  his  brother, 
nor  to  preserve  them  in  their  great  danger  of 
starvation,  nor  to  free  the  conscience  of  his 
brethren  from  the  guilt  of  selling  him.  The 
act  then  of  striking  his  brethren  with  fear  by 
means  of  a  lie  was  not  so  reprehensible  as 
was  it  a  holy  and  laudable  act  to  urge  his 
enemies  and  seekers  to  a  salutary  penitence  by 
means  of  a  feigned  danger.  Finally  when 
they  were  weighed  down  by  the  odium  of  the 
very  serious  accusation,  they  were  conscience- 
stricken  not  at  the  charge  falsely  raised 
against  them,  but  at  the  thought  of  their 
earlier  crime,  and  said  to  one  another:  "We 
suffer  this  rightly  because  we  sinned  against 
our  brother,  in  that  we  saw  the  anguish  of  his 
soul  when  he  asked  us  and  we  did  not  hearken 
to  him:  wherefore  all  this  trouble  hath  come 
upon  us."2  And  this  confession,  we  think, 
expiated  by  most  salutary  humility  their  ter- 
rible sin  not  only  against  their  brother, 
against  whom  they  had  sinned  with  wicked 
cruelty,  but  also  against  God.  What  about 
Solomon,  who  in  his  first  judgment  manifested 
the  gift  of  wisdom,  which  he  had  received  of 
God,  only  by  making  use  of  falsehood  ?  For 
in  order  to  get  at  the  truth  which  was  hidden 
by  the  woman's  lie,  even  he  used  the  help  of  a 
lie  most  cunningly  invented,  saying:  "Bring 
me  a  sword  and  divide  the  living  child  into 
two  parts,  and  give  the  one  half  to  the  one  and 
the  other  half  to  the  other."  And  when  this 
pretended  cruelty  stirred  the  heart  of  the  true 
mother,  but  was  received  with  approval  by 
her  who  was  not  the  true  mother,  then  at  last 
by  this  most  sagacious  discovery  of  the  truth  he 
pronounced  the  judgment  which  every  one  has 
felt  to  have  been  inspired  by  God,  saying : 
"Give  her  the  living  child  and  slay  it  not: 
she  is  the  mother  of  it. "  8  Further  we  are  more 
fully  taught  by  other  passages  of  Scripture  as 
well  that  we  neither  can  nor  should  carry  out 
everything  which  we  determine  either  with 
peace  or  disturbance  of  mind,    as  we   often 


1  Gen.  xlii.  9,  16. 


2  lb.  ver.  21.  3  1  Kings  iii.  24-27. 


hear  that  holy  men  and  angels  and  even  Al- 
mighty God  Himself  have  changed  what  they 
had  decided  upon.  For  the  blessed  David 
determined  and  confirmed  it  by  an  oath,  say- 
ing: "May  God  do  so  and  add  more  to  the 
foes  of  David  if  I  leave  of  all  that  belong 
unto  Nabal  until  the  morning  a  single  male." 
And  presently  when  Abigail  his  wife  inter- 
ceded and  intreated  for  him,  he  gave  up  his 
threats,  lightened  the  sentence,  and  preferred 
to  be  regarded  as  a  breaker  of  his  word  rather 
than  to  keep  his  pledged  oath  by  cruelly  exe- 
cuting it,  saying:  "As  the  Lord  liveth,  if 
thou  hadst  not  quickly  come  to  meet  me  there 
had  not  been  left  to  Nabal  by  the  morning 
light  a  single  male."  4  And  as  we  do  not  hold 
that  his  readiness  to  take  a  rash  oath  (which 
resulted  from  his  anger  and  disturbance  of 
mind)  ought  to  be  copied  by  us,  so  we  do 
think  that  the  pardon  and  revision  of  his 
determination  is  to  be  followed.  The  "  chosen 
vessel,"  in  writing  to  the  Corinthians,  prom- 
ises unconditionally  to  return,  saying:  "But 
I  will  come  to  you  when  I  pass  through  Mace- 
donia: for  I  will  pass  through  Macedonia. 
But  I  will  stay  or  even  pass  the  winter  with 
you  that  you  may  conduct  me  whithersoever  I 
shall  go.  For  I  do  not  want  cnly  to  see  you 
in  passing:  for  I  hope  to  stay  with  you  for 
some  time."5  And  this  fact  he  remembers  in 
the  Second  Epistle,  thus :  "  And  in  this  confi- 
dence I  was  minded  first  to  come  unto  you,  that 
ye  might  receive  a  second  favour,  and  by  you 
to  pass  into  Macedonia  and  again  to  come  to 
you  from  Macedonia  and  by  you  be  conducted 
to  Judaea."  But  a  better  plan  suggested  itself 
and  he  plainly  admits  that  he  is  not  going  to 
fulfil  what  he  had  promised.  "  When  then," 
says  he,  "  I  purposed  this,  did  I  use  light- 
mindedness?  or  the  things  that  I  think,  do  I 
think  after  the  flesh,  that  there  should  be 
with  me  yea,  yea,  and  nay,  nay  ? "  Lastly,  he 
declares  even  with  the  affirmation  of  an  oath, 
why  it  was  that  he  preferred  to  put  on  one  side 
his  pledged  word  rather  than  by  his  presence 
to  bring  a  burden  and  grief  to  his  disciples: 
"But  I  call  God  to  witness  against  my  soul 
that  it  was  to  spare  you  that  I  came  not  as  far 
as  Corinth.  For  I  determined  this  with  myself 
that  I  would  not  come  unto  you  in  sorrow."6 
Though  when  the  angels  had  refused  to  enter 
the  house  of  Lot  at  Sodom,  saying  to  him : 
"We  will  not  enter  but  will  remain  in  the 
street,"  they  were  presently  forced  by  his 
prayers  to  change  their  determination,  as 
Scripture  subjoins:  "And  Lot  constrained 
them,    and   they  turned    in    to    him."7     And 


4  1  Sam.  xxv.  22,  34. 

5  1  Cor.  xvi.  5,  7. 


8  2  Cor.  i.  15-17,  23  ; 
7  Gen.  xix.  2,  3. 


SECOND    CONFERENCE   OF    ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


471 


certainly  if  they  knew  that  they  would  turn 
in  to  him,  they  refused  his  request  with  a 
sham  excuse :  but  if  their  excuse  was  a  real 
one,  then  they  are  clearly  shown  to  have 
changed  their  mind.  And  certainly  we  hold 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  inserted  this  in  the  sa- 
cred volume  for  no  other  reason  but  to  teach 
us  by  their  examples  that  we  ought  not  to 
cling  obstinately  to  our  own  determinations, 
but  to  subject  them  to  our  will,  and  so  to  keep 
our  judgment  free  from  all  the  chains  of  law 
that  it  may  be  ready  to  follow  the  call  of 
good  counsel  in  any  direction,  and  may  not 
delay  or  refuse  to  pass  without  any  delay  to 
whatever  a  sound  discretion  may  find  to  be 
the  better  choice.  And  to  rise  to  still  higher 
instances,  when  king  Hezekiah  was  lying  on 
his  bed  and  afflicted  with  grievous  sickness 
the  prophet  Isaiah  addressed  him  in  the  per- 
son of  God,  and  said:  "Thus  saith  the  Lord: 
set  thine  house  in  order  for  thou  shalt  die  and 
not  live.  And  Hezekiah,"  it  says,  "turned 
his  face  to  the  wall  and  prayed  to  the  Lord 
and  said:  I  beseech  thee,  O  Lord,  remember 
how  I  have  walked  before  Thee  in  truth  and 
with  a  perfect  heart,  and  how  I  have  done 
what  was  right  in  Thy  sight.  And  Hezekiah 
wept  sore."  After  which  it  was  again  said  to 
him :  "  Go,  return,  and  speak  to  Hezekiah 
king  of  Judah,  saying:  Thus  saith  the  Lord 
God  of  David  thy  father :  I  have  heard  thy 
prayer,  I  have  seen  thy  tears:  and  behold,  I 
will  add  to  thy  days  fifteen  years:  and  I  will 
deliver  thee  out  of  the  hand  of  the  king  of 
the  Assyrians,  and  I  will  defend  this  city  for 
thy  sake  and  for  my  servant  David's  sake."1 
What  can  be  clearer  than  this  proof  that  out 
of  consideration  for  mercy  and  goodness  the 
Lord  would  rather  break  His  word  and  instead 
of  the  pre-arranged  limit  of  death  extend  the 
life  of  him  who  prayed,  for  fifteen  years, 
rather  than  be  found  inexorable  because  of 
His  unchangeable  decree?  In  the  same  way 
too  the  Divine  sentence  says  to  the  men  of 
Nineveh:  "  Yet  three  days,  and  Nineveh  shall 
be  overthrown ;  "  2  and  presently  this  stern  and 
abrupt  sentence  is  softened  by  their  peni- 
tence and  fasting,  and  is  turned  to  the  side 
of  mercy  with  goodness  that  is  easy  to  be 
intreated.  But  if  any  one  maintains  that  the 
Lord  had  threatened  the  destruction  of  their 
city  (while  He  foreknew  that  they  would  be 
converted)  for  this  reason,  that  He  might 
incite  them  to  a  salutary  penitence,  it  follows 
that  those  who  are  set  over  their  brethren  may, 
if  need  arises,  without  any  blame  for  telling 
lies,  threaten  those  who  need  improvement 
with   severer    treatment  than  they  are   really 


1  2  Kings  xx.  1-6, 


2  Jonah  iii.  4  (LXX.). 


going  to  inflict.  But  if  one  says  that  God 
revoked  that  severe  sentence  in  considera- 
tion of  their  penitence,  according  to  what 
he  says  by  Ezekiel :  "  If  I  say  to  the  wicked, 
Thou  shalt  surely  die:  and  he  becomes  peni- 
tent for  his  sin,  and  doeth  judgment  and 
justice,  he  shall  surely  live,  he  shall  not 
die;  "  3  we  are  similarly  taught  that  we  ought 
not  obstinately  to  stick  to  our  determination, 
but  that  we  should  with  gentle  pity  soften 
down  the  threats  which  necessity  called  forth. 
And  that  we  may  not  fancy  that  the  Lord 
granted  this  specially  to  the  Ninevites,  He 
continually  affirms  by  Jeremiah  that  He  will 
do  the  same  in  general  towards  all,  and 
promises  that  without  delay  He  will  change 
His  sentence  in  accordance  with  our  deserts; 
saying:  "I  will  suddenly  speak  against  a 
nation  and  against  a  kingdom  to  root  out 
and  to  pull  down  and  to  destroy  it.  If  that 
nation  repent  of  the  evil,  which  I  have  spoken 
against  it,  I  also  will  repent  of  the  evil  which 
I  thought  to  do  to  them.  And  I  will  sud- 
denly speak  of  a  nation  and  a  kingdom,  to 
build  up  and  to  plant  it.  If  it  shall  do  evil 
in  My  sight,  that  it  obey  not  My  voice:  I 
will  repent  of  the  good  that  I  thought  to  do 
to  it."  To  Ezekiel  also:  "Leave  out  not  a 
word,  if  so  be  they  will  hearken  and  be  con- 
verted every  one  from  his  evil  way:  that  I 
may  repent  Me  of  the  evil  that  I  thought  to  do 
to  them  for  the  wickedness  of  their  doings."4 
And  by  these  passages  it  is  declared  that  we 
ought  not  obstinately  to  stick  to  our  decis- 
ions, but  to  modify  them  with  reason  and 
judgment,  and  that  better  courses  should 
always  be  adopted  and  preferred,  and  that  we 
should  turn  without  any  delay  to  that  course 
which  is  considered  the  more  profitable. 
For  this  above  all  that  invaluable  sentence 
teaches  us,  because  though  each  man's  end 
is  known  beforehand  to  Him  before  his  birth, 
yet  somehow  He  so  orders  all  things  by  a  plan 
and  method  for  all,  and  with  regard  to  man's 
disposition,  that  He  decides  on  everything  not 
by  the  mere  exercise  of  His  power,  nor  ac- 
cording to  the  ineffable  knowledge  which  His 
Prescience  possesses,  but  according  to  the 
present  actions  of  men,  and  rejects  or  draws 
to  Himself  each  one,  and  daily  either  grants 
or  withholds  His  grace.  And  that  this  is  so 
the  election  of  Saul  also  shows  us,  of  whose 
miserable  end  the  foreknowledge  of  God  cer- 
tainly could  not  be  ignorant,  and  yet  He  chose 
him  out  of  so  many  thousands  of  Israel  and 
anointed  him  king,  rewarding  the  then  existing 
merits  of  his  life,  and  not  considering  the  sin 
of  his  coming  fall,    so  that  after   he   became 


Ezek.  xxxiii.  14,  15. 


4  Jer.  xviii.  7,  10  ;  xxvi.  2,  3. 


472 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


reprobate,  God  complains  almost  in  human 
terms  and,  with  man's  feelings,  as  if  He  re- 
pented of  his  choice,  saying:  "It  repenteth 
Me  that  I  have  appointed  Saul  king :  for  he 
hath  forsaken  Me,  and  hath  not  performed  My 
words;  "  and  again:  "But  Samuel  was  grieved 
for  Saul  because  the  Lord  repented  that  He 
had  made  Saul  king  over  Israel."  *  Finally 
this  that  He  afterwards  executed,  that  the 
Lord  also  declares  by  the  prophet  Ezekiel 
that  He  will  by  His  daily  judgment  do  with 
all  men,  saying:  "Yea,  if  I  shall  say  to  the 
righteous  that  he  shall  surely  live,  and  he 
trusting  in  his  righteousness  commit  iniquity: 
all  his  righteousness  shall  be  forgotten,  and 
in  his  iniquity  which  he  hath  committed,  in 
the  same  he  shall  die.  And  if  I  shall  say  to 
the  wicked :  Thou  shalt  surely  die ;  and  if  he 
repent  of  his  sin  and  do  judgment  and  right- 
eousness, and  if  that  wicked  man  restore  the 
pledge  and  render  what  he  hath  robbed,  and 
walk  in  the  commandments  of  life,  and  do 
no  righteous  thing,  he  shall  surely  live,  he 
shall  not  die.  None  of  his  sins  which  he 
hath  committed  shall  be  imputed  unto  him."  2 
Finally,  when  the  Lord  would  for  their  speedy 
fall  turn  away  His  merciful  countenance 
from  the  people  whom  He  had  chosen  out  of 
all  nations,  the  giver  of  the  law  interposes 
on  their  behalf  and  cries  out:  "I  beseech 
Thee,  O  Lord,  this  people  have  sinned  a  great 
sin;  they  have  made  for  themselves  gods  of 
gold;  and  now  if  Thou  forgivest  their  sin,  for- 
give it;  but  if  not,  blot  me  out  of  Thy  book 
which  Thou  hast  written.  To  whom  the  Lord 
answered :  If  any  man  hath  sinned  before  Me, 
I  will  blot  him  out  of  My  book."3  David 
also,  when  complaining  in  prophetic  spirit  of 
Judas  and  the  Lord's  persecutors,  says:  "Let 
them  be  blotted  out  of  the  book  of  the  living;  " 
and  because  they  did  not  deserve  to  come  to 
saving  penitence  because  of  the  guilt  of  their 
great  sin,  he  subjoins:  "And  let  them  not  be 
written  among  the  righteous."4  Finally  in 
the  case  of  Judas  himself  the  meaning  of  the 
prophetic  curse  was  clearly  fulfilled,  for  when 
his  deadly  sin  was  completed,  he  killed  him- 
self by  hanging,  that  he  might  not  after  his 
name  was  blotted  out  be  converted  and  repent 
and  deserve  to  be  once  more  written  among 
the  righteous  in  heaven.  We  must  therefore 
not  doubt  that  at  the  time  when  he  was  chosen 
by  Christ  and  obtained  a  place  in  the  Apos- 
tolate,  the  name  of  Judas  was  written  in  the 
book  of  the  living,  and  that  he  heard  as  well 
as  the  rest  the  words:  "Rejoice  not  because 
the  devils  are  subject  unto  you,  but  rejoice 
because  vour  names  are  written  in  heaven."5 


i  Sam.  xv.  ii,  35. 
Ezek.  xxxiii.  13-16. 


3  Exod.  xxxii.  31-33. 
1  Ps.  lxviii.  (lxix.)  29. 


5  S.  Luke  x.  20. 


But  because  he  was  corrupted  by  the  plague 
of  covetousness  and  had  his  name  struck  out 
from  that  heavenly  list,  it  is  suitably  said  of 
him  and  of  men  like  him  by  the  prophet:  "O 
Lord,  let  all  those  that  forsake  Thee  be  con- 
founded. Let  them  that  depart  from  Thee  be 
written  in  the  earth,  because  they  have  for- 
saken the  Lord,  the  vein  of  living  waters." 
And  elsewhere:  "They  shall  not  be  in  the 
counsel  of  My  people,  nor  shall  they  be 
written  in  the  writing  of  the  house  of  Israel, 
neither  shall  they  enter  into  the  land  of 
Israel."6 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 

How  saintly  men  cannot  be  hard  and  obstinate. 

Nor  must  we  omit  the  value  of  that  com- 
mand because  even  if  we  have  bound  ourselves 
by  some  oath  under  the  influence  of  anger 
or  some  other  passion,  (a  thing  which  ought 
never  to  be  done  by  a  monk)  still  the  case  for 
each  side  should  be  weighed  by  a  thorough 
judgment  of  the  mind,  and  the  course  on 
which  we  have  determined  should  be  com- 
pared to  that  which  we  are  urged  to  adopt, 
and  we  should  without  hesitation  adopt  that 
which  on  the  occurrence  of  sounder  considera- 
tions is  decided  to  be  the  best.  For  it  is  better 
to  put  our  promise  on  one  side  than  to  undergo 
the  loss  of  something  good  and  more  desir- 
able. Finally  we  never  remember  that  vener- 
able and  approved  fathers  were  hard  and 
unyielding  in  decisions  of  this  sort,  but  as 
wax  under  the  influence  of  heat,  so  they  were 
modified  by  reason,  and  when  sounder  coun- 
sels prevailed,  did  not  hesitate  to  give  in  to 
the  better  side.  But  those  whom  we  have  seen 
obstinately  clinging  to  their  determinations 
we  have  always  set  down  as  unreasonable  and 
wanting  in  judgment. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

A  question  whether  the  saying  :  "  I  have  sworn  and  am 
purposed  :'  is  opposed  to  the  view  given  above. 

Germanus:  So  far  as  this  consideration  is 
concerned  which  has  been  clearly  and  fully 
treated  of,  a  monk  ought  never  to  determine 
anything  for  fear  lest  he  turn  out  a  breaker  of 
his  word  or  else  obstinate.  And  what  then 
can  we  make  of  this  saying  of  the  Psalmist: 
"  I  have  sworn  and  am  purposed  to  keep  Thy 
righteous  judgments?'"7  What  is  "to  swear 
and  purpose  "  except  to  keep  one's  determina- 
tions fixedly? 


6  Jer.  xvii.  13;  Ezek.  xiii.  9. 


Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  106. 


SECOND     CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   JOSEPH. 


47. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

The  answer  telling  in  what  cases  the  determination  is  to  be 
kept  fixedly,  and  in  what  cases  it  may  be  broken  if  need  be. 

Joseph  :  We  do  not  lay  this  down  with  re- 
gard to  those  fundamental  commands,  without 
which  our  salvation  cannot  in  any  way  exist, 
but  with  regard  to  those  which  we  can  either 
relax  or  hold  fast  to  without  endangering  our 
state,  as  for  instance,  an  unbroken  and  strict 
fast,  or  total  abstinence  from  wine  or  oil,  or 
entire  prohibition  to  leave  one's  cell,  or  in- 
cessant attention  to  reading  and  meditation, 
all  of  which  can  be  practised  at  pleasure,  with- 
out damage  to  our  profession  and  purpose, 
and,  if  need  be,  can  be  given  up  without 
blame.  But  we  must  most  resolutely  make  up 
our  minds  to  observe  those  fundamental  com- 
mands, and  not  even,  if  need  arise,  to  avoid 
death  in  their  cause,  with  regard  to  which  we 
must  immovably  assert :  "  I  have  sworn  and 
am  purposed."  And  this  should  be  done  for 
the  preservation  of  love,  for  which  all  things 
else  should  be  disregarded  lest  the  beauty  and 
perfection  of  its  calm  should  suffer  a  stain. 
In  the  same  way  we  must  swear  for  the  purity 
of  our  chastity,  and  we  ought  to  do  the  same 
for  faith,  and  sobriety  and  justice,  to  all  of 
which  we  must  cling  with  unchangeable  per- 
sistence, and  to  forsake  which  even  for  a  little 
is  worthy  of  blame.  But  in  the  case  of  those 
bodily  exercises,  which  are  said  to  be  profit- 
able for  a  little,1  we  must,  as  we  said,  decide 
in  such  a  way  that,  if  there  occurs  any  more 
decided  opportunity  for  a  good  act,  which 
would  lead  us  to  relax  them,  we  need  not  be 
bound  by  any  rule  about  them,  but  may  give 
them  up  and  freely  adopt  what  is  more  useful. 
For  in  the  case  of  those  bodily  exercises,  if 
they  are  dropped  for  a  time,  there  is  no 
danger:  but -to  have  given  up  these  others 
even  for  a  moment  is  deadly. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

How  we  ought  to  do  those  things  which  are  to  be  kept  secret. 

You  must  also  provide  with  the  same  care 
that  if  by  chance  some  word  has  slipped  out  of 
your  mouth  which  you  want  to  be  a  secret,  no 
injunction  to  secrecy  may  trouble  the  hearer. 
For  it  will  be  more  likely  to  be  unheeded  if  it 
is  let  pass  carelessly  and  simply,  because  the 
brother,  whoever  he  is,  will  not  be  tormented 
with  such  a  temptation  to  divulge  it,  as  he 
will  take   it  as  something  trivial  dropped  in 

1  Cf.  i  Tim.  iv.  8. 


casual  conversation,  and  as  what  is  for  this 
very  reason  of  less  account,  because  it  was 
not  committed  to  the  hearer's  mind  with  a 
strict  injunction  to  silence.  For  even  if  you 
bind  his  faith  by  exacting  an  oath  from  him, 
you  need  not  doubt  that  it  will  very  soon  be 
divulged;  for  a  fiercer  assault  of  the  devil's 
power  will  be  made  upon  him,  both  to  annoy 
and  betray  you,  and  to  make  him  break  his 
oath  as  quickly  as  possible. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

That  no  determination  should  be  made  on  those  things  which 
concern  the  needs  of  the  common  life. 

And  therefore  a  monk  ought  not  hastily, 
to  make  any  promise  on  those  things  which 
merely  concern  bodily  exercise,  for  fear  lest  he 
may  stir  up  the  enemy  still  more  to  attack 
what  he  is  keeping  as  it  were  under  the  observ- 
ance of  the  law,  and  so  he  may  be  more  readily 
compelled  to  break  it.  Since  every  one  who 
lives  under  the  grace  of  liberty,  and  sets  him- 
self a  law,  thereby  binds  himself  in  a  danger- 
ous slavery,  so  that  if  by  chance  necessity 
constrains  him  to  do  what  he  might  have 
ventured  on  lawfully,  and  indeed  laudably 
and  with  thanksgiving,  he  is  forced  to  act  as 
a  transgressor,  and  to  fall  into  sin :  "  for  where 
there  is  no  law  there  is  no  transgression."  2 

By  this  instruction  and  the  teaching  of  the 
blessed  Joseph  we  were  confirmed  as  by  a 
Divine  oracle  and  made  up  our  minds  to  stop 
in  Egypt.  But  though  henceforward  we  were 
but  a  little  anxious  about  our  promise,  yet 
when  seven  years  were  over  we  were  very  glad 
to  fulfil  it.  For  we  hastened  to  our  monas- 
tery, at  a  time  when  we  were  confident  of 
obtaining  permission  to  return  to  the  desert, 
and  first  paid  our  respects  properly  to  our 
Elders;  next  we  revived  the  former  love  in 
their  minds  as  out  of  the  ardour  of  their  love 
they  had  not  been  at  all  softened  by  our  very 
frequent  letters  to  satisfy  them,  and  in  the 
last  place,  we  entirely  removed  the  sting  of 
our  broken  promise  and  returned  to  the  re- 
cesses of  the  desert  of  Scete,  as  they  them- 
selves forwarded  us  with  joy. 

This  learning  and  doctrine  of  the  illustrious 
fathers,  our  ignorance,  O  holy  brother,  has  to 
the  best  of  its  ability  made  plain  to  you.  And 
if  perhaps  our  clumsy  style  has  confused  it 
instead  of  setting  it  in  order,  I  trust  that  the 
blame  which  our  clumsiness  deserves  will  not 
interfere  with  the  praise  due  to  these  grand 

2  Rom.  iv.  15. 


474 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


men.  Since  it  seemed  to  us  a  safer  course 
in  the  sight  of  our  Judge  to  state  even  in  un- 
adorned style  this  splendid  doctrine  rather 
than  to  hold  our  tongues  about  it,  since  if  he 
considers  the  grandeur  of  the  thoughts,  the 
fact  that  the  awkwardness  of  our  style  annoys 
him,  need  not  be  prejudicial  to  the  profit  of  the 
reader,  and  for  our  part  we  are  more  anxious 
about  its  usefulness  than  its  being   praised. 


This  at  least  I  charge  all  those  into  whose 
hand  this  little  book  may  fall;  viz.,  that  they 
must  know  that  whatever  in  it  pleases  them 
belongs  to  the  fathers,  and  whatever  they  dis- 
like is  all  our  own.1 


1  In  this  last  chapter  Cassian  certainly  makes  his  own  the  senti- 
ments of  Abbot  Joseph  on  the  permissibility  of  lying ;  and  is  therefore 
not  unreasonably  attacked  for  the  teaching  of  this  Conference  by 
Prosper.     "  Contra  Collatorem,"  c.  ix. 


THE   THIRD    PART  OF   THE    CONFERENCES   OF 

JOHN   CASSIAN. 


PREFACE. 


When  by  the  help  of  the  grace  of  Christ  I  had  published  ten  Conferences  of  the  Fathers, 
which  were  composed  at  the  urgent  request  of  the  most  blessed  Helladius  and  Leontius,  I 
dedicated  seven  others  to  Honoratus  a  Bishop  blessed  in  name  as  well  as  merits,  and  also  to 
that  holy  servant  of  Christ,  Eucherius.  The  same  number  also  I  have  thought  good  to  dedi- 
cate now  to  you,  O  holy  brothers,  Jovinianus,  Minervius,  Leontius,  and  Theodore.1  Since  the 
last  named  of  you  founded  that  holy  and  splendid  monastic  rule  in  the  province  of  Gaul,  with 
the  strictness  of  ancient  virtue,  while  the  rest  of  you  by  your  instructions  have  stirred  up  monks 
not  only  before  all  to  seek  the  common  life  of  the  coenobia,  but  even  to  thirst  eagerly  for  the 
sublime  life  of  the  anchorite.  For  those  Conferences  of  the  best  of  the  fathers  are  arranged 
with  such  care,  and  so  carefully  considered  in  all  respects,  that  they  are  suited 'to 'both- modes 
of  life  whereby  you  have  made  not  only  the  countries  of  the  West,  but  even  the  isles;  to 
flourish  with  great  crowds  of  brethren  ;  i.e.,  I  mean  that  not  only  those  who  still  remain  in 
congregations  with  praiseworthy  subjection  to  rule,  but  those  also  who  retire  to.no  great  dis- 
tance from  your  monasteries,  and  try  to  carry  out  the  rule  of  anchovrites,  may  oe  more  fully 
instructed,  according  as  the  nature  of  the  place  and  the  character  .of;  their' condition  may 
require.  And  to  this  your  previous  efforts  and  labours,  have  especially  contributed  this,  that, 
as  they  are  already  prepared  and  practised  in  these  exercises,  they  can  more  readily  receive 
the  precepts  and  institutes  of  the  Elders,  and  receiving  into  their  cells'  the  authors  of  the 
Conferences  together  with  the  actual  volumes  of  the  Conferences  and  talking  with  them  after 
a  fashion  by  daily  questions  and  answers,  they  may  not  be  left  to  their  own  resources  to  find 
that  way  which  is  difficult  and  almost  unknown  in  this  country,  but  full  of  danger  even  there 
where  well-worn  paths  and  numberless  instances  of  those  who  have  gone  before  are  not 
wanting,  but  may  rather  learn  to  follow  the  rule  of  the  anchorite's  life  taught  by  their 
examples,  whom .  ancient  tradition  and  industry  and  long  experience  have  thoroughly 
instructed. 

1  See  the  introduction  p.  189. 


THE   THIRD   PART   OF   THE   CONFERENCES   OF 

JOHN    CASSIAN. 


XVIII. 


CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   PIAMUN. 


ON  THE    THREE    SORTS    OF  MONKS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

How  we  came  to  Diolcos  and  were  received  by  Abbot  Piamun. 1 

After  visiting  and  conversing  with  those 
three  Elders,  whose  Conferences  we  have  at 
the  instance  of  our  brother  Eucherius  tried  to 
describe,  as  we  were  still  more  ardently  de- 
sirous to  seek  out  the  further  parts  of  Egypt, 
in  which  a  larger  and  more  perfect  company 
of  saints  dwelt,  we  came  — •  urged  not  so  much 
by  the  necessities  of  our  journey  as  by  the 
desire  of  visiting  the  saints  who  were  dwell- 
ing there  —  to  a  village  named  Diolcos,2 
lying  on  one  of  the  seven  mouths  of  the 'river 
Nile.  For  when  we  heard  of  very  many  and 
very  celebrated  monasteries  founded  by  the 
ancient  fathers,  like  most  eager  merchants,  at 
once  we  undertook  the  journey  on  an  uncertain 
quest,  urged  on  by  the  hope  of  greater  gain. 
And  when  we  wandered  about  there  for  some 
long  time  and  fixed  our  curious  eyes  on  those 
mountains  of  virtue  conspicuous  for  their 
lofty  height,  the  gaze  of  those  around  first 
singled  out  Abbot  Piamun,  the  senior  of  all 
the  anchorites  living  there  and  their  presbyter, 
as  if  he  were  some  tall  lighthouse.  For  he 
was  set  on  the  top  of  a  high  mountain  like 
that  city  in  the  gospel,3  and  at  once  shed  his 
light  on  our  faces,  whose  virtues  and  miracles, 
which  were  wrought  by  him    under  our  very 


1  Piamun,  who  has  been  already  spoken  of  in  XVII.  xxiv.,  is  also 
mentioned  by  Rufmus  (History  of  the  Monks,  c.  xxxii.),  Palladius 
(the  Lausiac  History,  clxxii.),  and  Sozomen  (H.  E.  VI.  xxix.),  all  of 
whom  tell,  with  slight  variations,  the  same  story,  how  that  one  dav 
while  he  was  officiating  at  the  altar,  he  saw  an  angel  writing  down  the 
names  of  some  of  the  brethren,  and  passing  by  the  names  of  others, 
all  of  whom  Piamun  on  subsequent  inquiry  found  to  have  been 
guilty  of  some  grievous  sin. 

2  On  Diolcos  see  on  the  Institutes  V.  xxxvi.  

!  Cf.  S.  Matt.  v.  14. 


eyes,  Divine  Grace  thus  bearing  witness  to 
his  excellence,  if  we  are  not  to  exceed  the 
plan  and  limits  of  this  volume,  we  feel  we 
must  pass  over  in  silence.  For  we  promised 
to  commit  to  memory  what  we  could  recollect, 
not  of  the  miracles  of  God,  but  of  the  insti- 
tutes and  pursuits  of  the  saints,  so  as  to 
supply  our  readers  merely  with  necessary  in- 
struction for  the  perfect  life,  and  not  with 
matter  for  idle  and  useless  admiration  without 
any  correction  of  their  faults.  And  so  when 
Abbot  Piamun  had  received  us  with  welcome, 
and  had  refreshed  us  with  becoming  kindness, 
as  he  understood  that  we  were  not  of  the  same 
country,  he  first  asked  us  anxiously  whence  or 
why  we  had  visited  Egypt,  and  when  he  dis- 
covered that  we  had  come  thither  from  a 
monastery  in  Syria  out  of  desire  for  perfection 
he  began  as  follows  :  — 


CHAPTER    II. 

The  words  of  Abbot  Piamun,  how  monks  who  were  novices 
ought  to  be  taught  by  the  example  of  their  elders. 

Whatever  man,  my  children,  is  desirous  to 
attain  skill  in  any  art,  unless  he  gives  himself 
up  with  the  utmost  pains  and  carefulness  to 
the  study  of  that  system  which,  he  is  anxious 
to  learn,  and  observes  the  rules  and  orders  of 
the  best  masters  of  that  work  or  science,  is 
indulging  in  a  vain  hope  to  reach  by  idle 
wishes  any  similarity  to  those  whose  pains 
and  diligence  he  avoids  copying.  For  we 
know  that  some  have  come  from  your  country 
to  these  parts,  only  to  go  round  the  monas- 
teries for  the  sake  of  getting  to  know  the 
brethren,  not  meaning  to  adopt  the  rules  and 


479 


480 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


regulations,  for  the  sake  of  which  they 
travelled  hither,  nor  to  retire  to  the  cells  and 
aim  at  carrying  out  in  action  what  they  had 
learnt  by  sight  or  by  teaching.  And  these 
people  retained  their  character  and  pursuits 
to  which  they  had  grown  accustomed,  and,  as 
is  thrown  in  their  teeth  by  some,  are  held  to 
have  changed  their  country  not  for  the  sake  of 
their  profit,  but  owing  to  the  need  of  escaping 
want.  For  in  the  obstinacy  of  their  stubborn 
mind,  they  not  only  could  learn  nothing,  but 
actually  would  hot  stay  any  longer  in  these 
parts.  For  if  they  changed  neither  their 
method-of  fasting,  nor  their  scheme  of  Psalms, 
nor  even  the  fashion  of  their  garments,  what 
else  could  we  think  that  they  were  after  in 
this  country,  except  only  the  supply  of  their 
victuals. 

CHAPTER    III. 

How -the  juniors  ought  not  to  discuss  the  orders  of  the  seniors. 

Wherefore  if,  as  we  believe,  the  cause  of 
God  has  drawn  you  to  try  to  copy  our  know- 
ledge, you  must  utterly  ignore  all  the  rules  by 
which  your  early  beginnings  were  trained,  and 
must  with  all,  humility  follow  whatever  you 
see  our  Elders  do  or  teach.  And  do  not  be 
troubled  or  drawn  away  and  diverted  from  im- 
itating it,  even  if  for  the  moment  the  cause  or 
reason  .of  any  deed  or  action  is  not  clear  to 
you.  because  if  men  have  good,  and  simple 
ideas  on  all  things  and  are  anxious  faithfully 
to  copy  whatever  they  see  taught  or  done  by 
their  Elders,  instead  of  discussing  it,  then  the 
knowledge  of  all  things  will  follow  through 
experience  of  , the  work.  But  he  will  never 
enter  into  the  reason  of  the  truth,  who  begins 
to  learn  by  discussion,,  because  as  the  enemy 
sees>.that  he  trusts  to  his  own  judgment  rather 
than  to  that  of  the  fathers'  he  easily  urges 
him  on  so  far  .till,  those  things  which  are 
especially  useful  and  helpful  seem  to  him  un- 
necessary or  injurious,  and  the  crafty  foe  so 
plays,  upon  his  presumption,  that  by  obsti- 
nately clinging  to  his  own  opinion  he  per- 
suades himself  that  only  that  is  holy,  which 
he  himself  in  his  pig-headed  error  thinks  to 
be  arood  and  ri^ht. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Of  the  three  sorts  of  monks  which  there  are  in  Egypt. 

Wherefore  you  should  first  hear  how  or 
whence  the  system  and  beginning  of  our  order 
took  its  rise.  For  only  then  can  a  man  at  all 
effectually  be  trained  in  any  art  he  may  wish. 


and  be  urged  on  to  practise  it  diligently, 
when  he  has  learnt  the  glory  of  its  authors 
and  founders.  There  are  three  kinds  of 
monks  in  Egypt,  of  which  two  are  admirable, 
the  third  is  a  poor  sort  of  thing  and  by  all 
means  to  be  avoided.  The  first  is  that  of 
the  coenobites,  who  live  together  in  a  congre- 
gation and  are  governed  by  the  direction  of  a 
single  Elder:  and  of  this  kind  there  is  the 
largest  number  of  monks  dwelling  through- 
out the  whole  of  Egypt.  The  second  is  that 
of  the  anchorites,  who  were  first  trained  in  the 
coenobium  and  then  being  made  perfect  in 
practical  life  chose  the  recesses  of  the  desert: 
and  in  this  "order  we  also  hope  to  gain  a  place. 
The  third  is  the  reprehensible  one  of  the  Sara- 
baites.1  And  of  these  we  will  discourse  more 
fully  one  by  one  in  order.  Of  these  three 
orders  then  you  ought,  as  we  said,  first  to 
know  about  the  founders.  For  at  once  from 
this  there  may  arise  either  a  hatred  for  the 
order  which  is  to  be  avoided,  or  a  longing  for 
that  which  is  to  be  followed,  because  each  way 
is  sure  to  carry  the  man  who  follows  it,  to 
that  end  which  its  author  and  discoverer  has 
reached. 

CHAPTER   V. 

Of  the  founders  who  originated  the  order  of  coenobites. 

And  so  the  system  of  ccenobites  took  its 
rise  in  the  days  of  the  preaching  of  the 
Apostles.  For  such  was  all  that  multitude  of 
believers  in  Jerusalem,  which  is  thus  described 
in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles:  "But  the  multi- 
tude of  believers  was  of  one  heart  and  one 
soul,  neither  said  any  of  them  that  any  of  the 
things  which  he  possessed  was  his  own,  but 
they  had  all  things  common.  They  sold  their 
possessions  and  property  and  divided  them 
to  all,  as  any  man  had  need."  And  again: 
"  For  neither  was  there  any  among  them  that 
lacked;  for  as  many  as  possessed  fields  or 
houses,  sold  them  and  brought  the  price  of 
the  things  that  they  sold  and  laid  them  before 
the  feet  of  the  Apostles :  and  distribution  was 
made  to  every  man  as  he  had  need."  2  The 
whole  Church,  I  say,  was  then  such  as  now 
are  those  few  who  can  be  found  with  difficulty 
in  ccenobia.  But  when  at  the  death  of  the 
Apostles  the  multitude  of  believers  began  to 
wax  cold,  and  especially  that  multitude  which 
had  come  to  the  faith  of  Christ  from  diverse 
foreign  nations,  from  whom  the  Apostles  out 
of  consideration  for  the  infancy  of  their  faith 
and  their  ingrained  heathen  habits,  required 
nothing  more  than  that  they  should  "  abstain 

1  See  the  note  on  c.  vii.       2  Acts  iv.  32  ;  ii.  45  ;  iv.  34,  35. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    PIAMUN. 


481 


from  things  sacrificed  to  idols  and  from  forni- 
cation, and  from  things  strangled,  and  from 
blood,"  1  and  so  that  liberty  which  was  con- 
ceded to  the  Gentiles  because  of  the  weak- 
ness of  their  newly-born  faith,  had  by  degrees 
begun  to  mar  the  perfection  of  that  Church 
which  existed  at  Jerusalem,  and  the  fervour 
of  that  early  faith  cooled  down  owing  to  the 
daily  increasing  number  both  of  natives  and 
foreigners,  and  not  only  those  who  had  ac- 
cepted the  faith  of  Christ,  but  even  those  who 
were  the  leaders  of  the  Church  relaxed  some- 
what of  that  strictness.  For  some  fancying 
that  what  they  saw  permitted  to  the  Gen- 
tiles because  of  their  weakness,  was  also 
allowable  for  themselves,  thought  that  they 
would  suffer  no  loss  if  they  followed  the  faith 
and  confession  of  Christ  keeping  their  pro- 
perty and  possessions.  But  those  who  still 
maintained  the  fervour  of  the  apostles,  mind- 
ful of  that  former  perfection  left  their  cities 
and  intercourse  with  those  who  thought  that 
carelessness  and  a  laxer  life  was  permissible 
to  themselves  and  the  Church  of  God,  and 
began  to  live  in  rural  and  more  sequestered 
spots,  and  there,  in  private  and  on  their  own 
account,  to  practise  those  things  which  they 
had  learnt  to  have  been  ordered  by  the  apos- 
tles throughout  the  whole  body  of  the  Church 
in  general :  and  so  that  whole  system  of  which 
we  have  spoken  grew  up  from  those  dis- 
ciples who  had  separated  themselves  from 
the  evil  that  was  spreading.  And  these,  as  by 
degrees  time  went  on,  were  separated  from 
the  great  mass  of  believers  and  because  they 
abstained  from  marriage  and  cut  themselves 
off  from  intercourse  with  their  kinsmen  and 
the  life  of  this  world,  were  termed  monks  or 
solitaries  from  the  strictness  of  their  lonely 
and  solitary  life.  Whence  it  followed  that 
from  their  common  life  they  were  called 
coenobites  and  their  cells  and  lodgings  cce- 
nobia.  That  then  alone  was  the  earliest  kind 
of  monks,  which  is  first  not  only  in  time  but 
also  in  grace,  and  which  continued  unbroken 
for  a  very  long  period  up  to  the  time  of  Abbot 
Paul  and  Antony;  and  even  to  this  day  we 
see  its  traces  remaining;  in  strict  ccenobia 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Of  the  system  of  the  Anchorites  and  its  beginning. 

Out  of  this  number  of  the  perfect,  and,  if 
I  may  use  the  expression,  this  most  fruitful 
root  of  saints,  were  produced  afterwards  the 


1  Acts  xv.  29. 


flowers  and  fruits  of  the  anchorites  as  well. 
And  of  this  order  we  have  heard  that  the 
originators  were  those  whom  we  mentioned 
just  now;  viz.,  Saint  Paul 2  and  Antony,  men 
who  frequented  the  recesses  of  the  desert,  not 
as  some  from  faintheartedness,  and  the  evil 
of  impatience,  but  from  a  desire  for  loftier 
heights  of  perfection  and  divine  contempla- 
tion, although  the  former  of  them  is  said  to 
have  found  his  way  to  the  desert  by  reason  of 
necessity,  while  during  the  time  of  persecu- 
tion he  was  avoiding  the  plots  of  his  neigh- 
bours. So  then  there  sprang  from  that  system 
of  which  we  have  spoken  another  sort  of  per- 
fection, whose  followers  are  rightly  termed 
anchorites;  i.e.,  withdrawers,  because,  being 
by  no  means  satisfied  with  that  victory  where- 
by they  had  trodden  under  foot  the  hidden 
snares  of  the  devil,  while  still  living  among 
men,  they  were  eager  to  fight  with  the  devils 
in  open  conflict,  and  a  straightforward  battle,- 
and  so  feared  not  to  penetrate  the  vast  re- 
cesses of  the  desert,  imitating,  to  wit,  John 
the  Baptist,  who  passed  all  his  life  in  the 
desert,  and  Elijah  and  Elisha  and  those  of 
whom  the  Apostle  speaks  as  follows:  "They 
wandered  about  in  sheepskins  and  goatskins, 
being  in  want,  distressed,  afflicted,  of  whom 
the  world  was  not  worthy,  wandering  in 
deserts,  in  mountains  and  in  dens  and  in  caves 
of  the  earth."  Of  whom  too  the  Lord  speaks 
figuratively  to  Job :  "  But  who  hath  sent  out 
the  wild  ass  free,  and  who  hath  loosed  his 
bands?  To  whom  I  have  given  the  wilder- 
ness for  an  house,  and  a  barren  land  for  his 
dwelling.  He  scorneth  the  multitude  of  the 
city  and  heareth  not  the  cry  of  the  driver;  he 
looketh  round  about  the  mountains  of  his 
pasture,  and  seeketh  for  every  green  thing." 
In  the  Psalms  also :  "  Let  now  the  redeemed 
of  the  Lord  say,  those  whom  He  hath  re- 
deemed from  the  hand  of  the  enemy ; "  and 
after  a  little :  "They  wandered  in  a  wilderness 
in  a  place  without  water:  they  found  not  the 
way  of  a  city  of  habitation.  They  were  hungry 
and  thirsty:  their  soul  fainted  in  them.  And 
they  cried  unto  the  Lord  in  their  trouble 
and  He  delivered  them  out  of  their  dis- 
tress;" whom  Jeremiah  too  describes  as  fol- 
lows: "Blessed  is  the  man  that  hath  borne 
the  yoke  from  his  youth.  He  shall  sit  soli- 
tary and  hold  his  peace  because  he  hath 
taken  it  up  upon  himself,"  and  there  sing  in 
heart  and  deed  these  words  of  the  Psalmist : 


-  Paul  was  from  very  early  days  celebrated  as  the  first  of  the  an- 
chorites. Indeed  S.  Jerome,  who  wrote  his  life  (Works,  Vol.  ii. 
p.  13  ed.  Migne)  calls  him  "  auctor  vita;  monastics  "  (Ep.  xxii.  ad 
Eustochium).  He  is  said  to  have  fled  to  the  Thebaid  from  the  terrors 
of  the  Decian  persecution,  and  to  have  died  there  in  extreme  old  age. 
Antony  has  already  been  several  times  mentioned  by  Cassian.  See 
the  Institutes  V.  iv.  :  Conference  II.  ii.  ;  III.  iv.,  etc. 


432 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


"I  am  become  like  a  pelican  in  the  wilder- 
ness. I  watched  and  am  become  like  a 
sparrow  alone  upon  the  house-top."  1 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Of  the  origin  of  the  Sarabaites  and  their  mode  of  life. 

And  while  the  Christian  religion  was  re- 
joicing in  these  two  orders  of  monks  though 
this  system  had  begun  by  degrees  to  deteri- 
orate, there  arose  afterwards  that  disgusting 
and  unfaithful  kind  of  monks;  or  rather, 
that  baleful  plant  revived  and  sprang  up 
again  which  when  it  first  shot  up  in  the  per- 
sons of  Ananias  and  Sapphira  in  the  early 
Church  was  cut  off  by  the  severity  of  the 
Apostle  Peter  —  a  kind  which  among  monks 
has  been  For  a  long  while  considered  detestable 
and  execrable,  and  which  was  adopted  by  no 
one  any  more,  so  long  as  there  remained 
stamped  on  the  memory  of  the  faithful  the 
dread  of  that  very  severe  sentence,  in  which 
the  blessed  Apostle  not  merely  refused  to 
allow  the  aforesaid  originators  of  the  novel 
crime  to  be  cured  by  penitence  or  any  amends, 
but  actually  destroyed  that  most  dangerous 
germ  by  their  speedy  death.  When  then  that 
precedent,  which  was  punished  with  Apostoli- 
cal severity  in  the  case  of  Ananias  and  Sap- 
phira had  by  degrees  faded  from  the  minds 
of  some,  owing  to  long  carelessness  and  for- 
getfulness  from  lapse  of  time,  there  arose  the 
race  of  Sarabaites,  who  owing  to  the  fact 
that  they  have  broken  away  from  the  congre- 
gations of  the  coenobites  and  each  look 
after  their  own  affairs,  are  rightly  named  in 
.the  Egyptian  language  Sarabaites,2  and  these 
spring  from  the  number  of  those,  whom  we 
have  mentioned,  who  wanted  to  imitate  rather 
.than  truly  to  aim  at  Evangelical  perfection, 
urged  thereto  by  rivalry  or  by  the  praises  of 
those  who  preferred  the  complete  poverty  of 
Christ  to  all  manner  of  riches.  These  then 
while  in  their  feeble  mind  they  make  a  pre- 
tence of  the  greatest  goodness  and  are  forced 
by  necessity  to  join  this  order,  while  they  are 
anxious  to  be  reckoned  by  the  name  of  monks 
without  emulating  their  pursuits,    in  no  sort 


1  Heb.  xi.  37,  38;  Job  xxxix.  5-S ;  Ps.  cvi.  (cvii.)  2,  4-6;  Lara, 
iii.  27,  2S ;  Ps.  ci.  (cii.)  7,  8. 

2  Sarabaites,  this  third  sort  of  monks,  whom  Cassian  here  paints 
in  such  dark  colours,  are  spoken  of  by  S.  Jerome  (Ep.  xxii.  ad  Eusto- 
chium)  under  the  name  of  Remoboth.  The  origin  of  both  names  is 
obscure,  but  Jerome  and  Cassian  are  quite  at  one  in  their  scorn  for 
these  pretended  monks.  S.  Benedict  begins  his  monastic  rule  by 
describing  the  four  kinds  of  monks,  coenobites,  anchorites,  sara- 
baites, and  a  fourth  class  to  which  he  gives  the  name  of  "  gyrovagi," 
i.  e. ,  wandering  monks ;  these  must  be  those  of  whom  Cassian  speaks 
below  in  c.  viii.  without  giving  them  any  definite  name.  See  further 
Bingham,  Antiquities  VII.  ii.,  arid  the  Dictionary  of  Christian  An- 
tiquities, Art.  Sarabaites. 


of  way  practise  discipline,  or  are  subject  to 
the  will  of  the  Elders,  or,  taught  by  their 
traditions,  learn  to  govern  their  own  wills  or 
take  up  and  properly  learn  any  rule  of  sound 
discretion ;  but  making  their  renunciation  only 
as  a  public  profession,  i.e.,  before  the  face  of 
men,  either  continue  in  their  homes  devoted 
to  the  same  occupations  as  before,  though 
dignified  by  this  title,  or  building  cells  for 
themselves  and  calling  them  monasteries  re- 
main in  them  perfectly  free  and  their  own 
masters,  never  submitting  to  the  precepts  of 
the  gospel,  which  forbid  them  to  be  busied 
with  any  anxiety  for  the  day's  food,  or  troubles 
about  domestic  matters :  commands  which 
those  alone  fulfil  with  no  unbelieving  doubt, 
who  have  freed  themselves  from  all  the  goods 
of  this  world  and  subjected  themselves  to  the 
superiors  of  the  ccenobia  so  that  they  cannot 
admit  that  they  are  at  all  their  own  masters. 
But  those  who,  as  we  said,  shirk  the  severity 
of  the  monastery,  and  live  two  or  three  to- 
gether in  their  cells,  not  satisfied  to  be  under 
the  charge  and  rule  of  an  Abbot,  but  arran- 
ging chiefly  for  this;  viz.,  that  they  may  get 
rid  of  the  yoke  of  the  Elders  and  have  liberty 
to  carry  out  their  wishes  and  go  and  wander 
where  they  will,  and  do  what  they  like,  these 
men  are  more  taken  up  both  day  and  night  in 
daily  business  than  those  who  live  in  the 
ccenobia,  but  not  with  the  same  faith  and 
purpose.  For  these  Sarabaites  do  it  not  to 
submit  the  fruits  of  their  labours  to  the  will 
of  the  steward,  but  to  procure  money  to  lay 
by.  And  see  what  a  difference  there  is  be- 
tween them.  For  the  others  think  nothing  of 
the  morrow,  and  offer  to  God  the  most  accept- 
able fruits  of  their  toil :  while  these  extend 
their  faithless  anxiety  not  only  to  the  morrow, 
but  even  to  the  space  of  many  years,  and 
so  fancy  that  God  is  either  false  or  im- 
potent as  He  either  could  not  or  would  not 
grant  them  the  promised  supply  of  food  and 
clothing.  The  one  seek  this  in  all  their 
prayers;  viz.,  that  they  may  gain  bxu^uouiryv, 
i.e.,  the  deprivation  of  all  things,  and  lasting 
poverty :  the  other  that  they  may  secure  a  rich 
quantity  of  all  sorts  of  supplies.  The  one 
eagerly  strive  to  go  beyond  the  fixed  rule  of 
daily  work  that  whatever  is  not  wanted  for 
the  sacred  purposes  of  the  monastery,  may  be 
distributed  at  the  will  of  the  Abbot  either 
among  the  prisons,  or  in  the  guest-chamber 
or  in  the  infirmary  or  to  the  poor;  the  others 
that  whatever  the  day's  gorge  leaves  over, 
may  be  useful  for  extravagant  wants  or  else 
laid  by  through  the  sin  of  covetousness. 
Lastly,  if  we  grant  that  what  has  been  col- 
lected by  them  with  no  good  design,  may  be 
disposed  of  in  better  ways  than  we  have  men- 


CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   PIAMUN. 


433 


tioned,  yet  not  even  thus  do  they  rise  to  the 
merits  of  goodness  and  perfection.  For  the 
others  bring  in  such  returns  to  the  monastery, 
and  daily  report  to  them,  and  continue  in  such 
humility  and  subjection  that  they  are  deprived 
of  their  rights  over  what  they  gain  by  their 
own  efforts,  just  as  they  are  of  their  rights 
over  themselves,  as  they  constantly  renew  the 
fervour  of  their  original  act  of  renunciation, 
while  they  daily  deprive  themselves  of  the 
fruits  of  their  labours :  but  these  are  puffed 
up  by  the  fact  that  they  are  bestowing  some- 
thing on  the  poor,  and  daily  fall  headlong 
into  sin.  The  one  party  are  by  patience  and 
the  strictness  whereby  they  continue  devoutly 
in  the  order  which  they  have  once  embraced, 
so  as  never  to  fulfil  their  own  will,  crucified 
daily  to  this  world  and  made  living  martyrs; 
the  others  are  cast  down  into  hell  by  the 
lukewarmness  of  their  purpose.  These  two 
sorts  of  -monks  then  vie  with  each  other  in 
almost  equal  numbers  in  this  province ;  but  in 
other  provinces,  which  the  need  of  the  Catho- 
lic faith  compelled  me  to  visit,  we  have  found 
that  this  third  class  of  Sarabaites  flourishes 
and  is  almost  the  only  one,  since  in  the  time 
of  Lucius  who  was  a  Bishop  of  Arian  mis- 
belief x  in  the  reign  of  Valens,  while  we  car- 
ried alms2  to  our  brethren;  viz.,  those  from 
Egypt  and  the  Thebaid,  who  had  been  con- 
signed to  the  mines  of  Pontus  and  Armenia3 
for  their  steadfastness  in  the  Catholic  faith, 
though  we  found  the  system  of  ccenobia  in 
some  cities  few  and  far  between,  yet  we  never 
made  out  that  even  the  name  of  anchorites 
was  heard  among  them. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

Of  a  fourth  sort  of  monks. 

There  is  however  another  and  a  fourth 
kind,  which  we  have  lately  seen  springing  up 
among  those  who  flatter  themselves  with  the 
appearance  and  form  of  anchorites,  and  who 
in  their  early  days  seem  in  a  brief  fervour 
to  seek  the  perfection  of  the  ccenobium,  but 
presently  cool  off,  and,  as  they  dislike  to  put 
an  end  to  their  former  habits  and  faults,  and 


1  Lucius  took  the  lead  of  the  Arian  party  at  Alexandria  after  the 
murder  of  George  of  Cappadocia  in  361,  and  was  put  forward  by  his 
party  as  the  candidate  for  the  see  which  they  regarded  as  vacant. 
In  373,  after  the  deatli  of  Athanasius,  he  was  forced  upon  the  reluc- 
tant Church  of  Alexandria  by  the  Arian  Emperor  Valens,  and  accord- 
ing to  Gregory  Nazianzen  a  fresh  persecution  of  the  orthodox  party 
at  once  began  ;  and  to  this  it  is  that  Piamun  alludes  in  the  text. 

2  Diaconia.  The  word  is  used  again  by  Cassian  for  almsgiving 
in  Conf.  XXI.  i.,  viii.,  ix. ,  and  cf.  Gregory  the  Great,  Ep.  xxii.,  and 
compare  e'ts  SiaxovCav  in  Acts  xi.  29. 

3  To  work  in  the  mines  was  apunishment'to  which  the  Confessors 
were  frequently  subjected  in  the  time  of  persecution :  Cf .  the  prayer 
in  the  Liturgy  of  S.  Mark  that  God  would  have  mercy  on  those  in 
prison,  or  in  the  mines,  etc.     Hammond's  Liturgies,  p.  181. 


are  not  satisfied  to  bear  the  yoke  of  humility 
and  patience  any  longer,  and  scorn  to  be  in 
subjection  to  the  rule  of  the  Elders,  look  out 
for  separate  cells  and  want  to  remain  by  them- 
selves alone,  that  as  they  are  provoked  by  no- 
body they  may  be  regarded  by  men  as  patient, 
gentle,  and  humble :  and,  this  arrangement, 
or  rather  this  lukewarmness  never  suffers 
those,  of  whom  it  has  once  got  hold,  to  ap- 
proach to  perfection.  For  in  this  way  their 
faults  are  not  merely  not  rooted  up,  but 
actually  grow  worse,  while  they  are  excited  by 
no  one,  like  some  deadly  and  internal  poison 
which  the  more  it  is  concealed,  so  much  the 
more  deeply  does  it  creep  in  and  cause  an 
incurable  disease  to  the  sick  person.  For  out 
of  respect  for  each  man's  own  cell  no  one 
ventures  to  reprove  the  faults  of  a  solitary, 
which  he  would  rather  have  ignored  than 
cured.  Moreover  virtues  are  created  not  by 
hiding  faults  but  by  driving  them  out. 


.  CHAPTER   IX. 

A  question  as  to  what  is  the  difference  between  a  ccenobium 
and  a  monastery. 

Germanus:  Is  there  any  distinction  be- 
tween a  ccenobium  and  a  monastery,  or  is 
the  same  thing  meant  by  either  name? 


CHAPTER   X. 

The  answer. 

Piamun  :  Although  many  people  indiffer- 
ently speak  of  monasteries  instead  of  ccenobia, 
yet  there  is  this  difference,  that  monastery  is 
the  title  of  the  dwelling,  and  means  nothing 
more  than  the  place,  i.e.,  the  habitation  of 
monks,  while  ccenobium  describes  the  cha- 
racter of  the  life  and  its  system :  and  monas- 
tery may  mean  the  dwelling  of  a  single  monk, 
while  a  ccenobium  cannot  be  spoken  of  except 
where  dwells  a  united  community  of  a  large 
number  of  men  living  together.  They  are 
however  termed  monasteries  in  which  groups 
of  Sarabaites  live. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

Of  true  humility,  and  how  Abbot  Serapion  exposed  the  mock 
humility  of  a  certain  man. 

Wherefore  as  I  see  that  you  have  learnt 
the  first  principles  of  this  life  from  the  best 
sort  of  monks,  i.e.,  that  starting  from  the  ex- 
cellent school  of  the  ccenobium  you  are  aim- 


434 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


ing  at  the  lofty  heights  of  the  anchorite's 
rule,  you  should  with  genuine  feeling  of  heart 
pursue  the  virtue  of  humility  and  patience, 
which  I  doubt  not  that  you  learnt  there ;  and 
not  feign  it,  as  some  do,  by  mock  humility  in 
words,  or  by  an  artificial  and  unnecessary 
readiness  for  some  duties  of  the  body.  And 
this  sham  humility  Abbot  Serapion 1  once 
laughed  to  scorn  most  capitally.  For  when  one 
had  come  to  him  making  a  great  display  of  his 
lowliness  by  his  dress  and  words,  and  the  old 
man  urged  him,  after  his  custom,  to  "collect 
the  prayer  "  -  he  would  not  consent  to  his  re- 
quest, but  debasing  himself  declared  that  he 
was  involved  in  such  crimes  that  he  did  not 
deserve  even  to  breathe  the  air  which  is  com- 
mon to  all,  and  refusing  even  the  use  of  the 
mat  preferred  to  sit  down  on  the  bare  ground. 
But  when  he  had  shown  still  less  inclination 
for  the  washing  of  the  feet,  then  Abbot  Sera- 
pion, when  supper  was  finished,  and  the  cus- 
tomary Conference  gave  him  an  opportunity, 
began  kindly  and  gently  to  urge  him  not  to 
roam  with  shifty  lightmindedness  over  the 
whole  world,  idly  and  vaguely,  especially  as 
he  was  young  and  strong,  but  to  keep  to  his 
cell  in  accordance  with  the  rule  of  the  Elders, 
and  to  elect  to  be  supported  by  his  own  efforts 
rather  than  by  the  bounty  of  others ;  which 
even  the  Apostle  Paul  would  not  allow,  and 
though  when  he  was  labouring  in  the  cause  of 
the  gospel  this  provision  might  rightly  have 
been  made  for  him,  yet  he  preferred  to  work 
night  and  da)',  to  provide  daily  food  for  him- 
self and  for  those  who  were  ministering  to 
him  and  could  not  do  the  work  with  their  own 
hands.  Whereupon  the  other  was  filled  with 
such  vexation  and  disgust  that  he  could  not 
hide  by  his  looks  the  annoyance  which  he  felt 
in  his  heart.  To  whom  the  Elder :  Thus  far, 
my  son,  you  have  loaded  yourself  with  the 
weight  of  all  kinds  of  crimes,  not  fearing  lest 
by  the  confession  of  such  awful  sins  you  bring 
a  reproach  upon  your  reputation ;  how  is  it 
then,  I  pray,  that  now,  at  our  simple  admo- 
nition, which  involved  no  reproof,  but  simply 
showed  a  feeling  for  your  edification  and  love, 
I  see  that  you  are  moved  with  such  disgust 
that  you  cannot  hide  it  by  your  looks,  or  con- 
ceal it  by  an  appearance  of  calmness?  Per- 
haps while  you  were  humiliating  yourself,  you 
were  hoping  to  hear  from  our  lips  this  saying: 
"The  righteous  man  is  the  accuser  of  him- 
self in  the  opening  of  his  discourse?"3 
Further,  true  humility  of  heart  must  be  pre- 
served, which  comes  not  from  an  affected 
humbling  of  body  and  in  word,  but  from  an 

1  On  Serapion  see  the  note  on  Conf.  V.  i. 

2  Orationem  Colligere.     See-the  notes  on  the  Institutes  III.  vii. 

3  Prov.  xviii.  17. 


inward  humbling  of  the  soul:  and  this  will 
only  then  shine  forth  with  clear  evidences  of 
patience  when  a  man  does  not  boast  about 
sins,  which  nobody  will  believe,  but,  when 
another  insolently  accuses  him  of  them,  thinks 
nothing  of  it,  and  when  with  gentle  equanimity 
of  spirit  he  puts  up  with  wrongs  offered  to 
him. 

CHAPTER   XII. 

A  question  how  true  patience  can  be  gained. 

Germanus:  We  should  like  to  know  how 
that  calmness  can  be  secured  and  maintained, 
that,  as  when  silence  is  enjoined  on  us  we 
shut  the  door  of  our  mouth,  and  lay  an  em- 
bargo on  speech,  so  also  we  may  be  able  to 
preserve  gentleness  of  heart,  which  sometimes 
even  when  the  tongue  is  restrained  loses  its 
state  of  calmness  within :  and  for  this  reason 
we  think  that  the  blessing  of  gentleness  can 
only  be  preserved  by  one  in  a  remote  cell  and 
solitary  dwelling. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

The  answer. 

Piamun  :  True  patience  and  tranquillity  is 
neither  gained  nor  retained  without  profound 
humility  of  heart:  and  if  it  has  sprung  from 
this  source,  there  will  be  no  need  either  of 
the  good  offices  of  the  cell  or  of  the  refuge  of 
the  desert.  For  it  will  seek  no  external  sup- 
port from  anything,  if  it  has  the  internal  sup- 
port of  the  virtue  of  humility,  its  mother  and 
its  guardian.  But  if  we  are  disturbed  when 
attacked  by  anyone  it  is  clear  that  the  founda- 
tions of  humility  have  not  been  securely  laid 
in  us,  and  therefore  at  the  outbreak  even  of  a 
small  storm,  our  whole  edifice  is  shaken  and 
ruinously  disturbed.  For  patience  would  not 
be  worthy  of  praise  and  admiration  if  it  only 
preserved  its  purposed  tranquillity  when  at- 
tacked by  no  darts  of  enemies,  but  it  is  grand 
and  glorious  because  when  the  storms  of 
temptation  beat  upon  it,  it  remains  unmoved. 
For  wherein  it  is  believed  that  a  man  is 
annoyed  and  hurt  by  adversity,  therein  is  he 
strengthened  the  more ;  and  he  is  therein  the 
more  exercised,  wherein  he  is  thought  to  be 
annoyed.  For  everybody  knows  that  patience 
gets  its  name  from  the  passions  and  endur- 
ance, and  so  it  is  clear  that  no  one  can  be 
called  patient  but  one  who  bears  without  an- 
noyance all  the  indignities  offered  to  him, 
and  so  it  is  not  without  reason  that  he  is 
i  praised  by  Solomon :   "  Better  is  the  patient 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    PIAMUN. 


435 


man  than  the  strong,  and  he  who  restrains  his 
anger  than  he  who  takes  a  city;  "  and  again: 
"  For  a  long-suffering  man  is  mighty  in  pru- 
dence, but  a  faint-hearted  man  is  very  fool- 
ish. "  *  When  then  anyone  is  overcome  by 
a  wrong,  and  blazes  up  in  a  fire  of  anger,  we 
should  not  hold  that  the  bitterness  of  the  in- 
sult offered  to  him  is  the  cause  of  his  sin,  but 
rather  the  manifestation  of  secret  weakness,  in 
accordance  with  the  parable  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  which  He  spoke  about  the  two 
houses,2  one  of  which  was  founded  upon  a 
rock,  and  the  other  upon  the  sand,  on  both  of 
which  He  says  that  the  tempest  of  rain  and 
waters  and  storm  beat  equally:  but  that  one 
which  was  founded  on  the  solid  rock  felt  no 
harm  at  all  from  the  violence  of  the  shock, 
while  that  which  was  built  on  the  shifting  and 
moving  sand  at  once  collapsed.  And  it  cer- 
tainly appears  that  it  fell,  not  because  it  was 
struck  by  the  rush  of  the  storms  and  torrents, 
but  because  it  was  imprudently  built  upon 
the  sand.  For  a  saint  does  not  differ  from  a 
sinner  in  this,  that  he  is  not  himself  tempted 
in  the  same  way,  but  because  he  is  not  worsted 
even  by  a  great  assault,  while  the  other  is  over- 
come even  by  a  slight  temptation.  For  the  for- 
titude of  any  good  man  would  not,  as  we  said, 
be  worthy  of  praise,  if  his  victory  was  gained 
without  his  being  tempted,  as  most  certainly 
there  is  no  room  for  victory  where  there  is 
no  struggle  and  conflict :  for  "  Blessed  is  the 
man  that  endureth  temptation,  for  when  he  has 
been  proved  he  shall  receive  the  crown  of  life 
which  God  hath  promised  to  them  that  love 
Him."  3  According  to  the  Apostle  Paul  also 
"  Strength  is  made  perfect "  not  in  ease  and 
delights  but  "in  weakness."  "For  behold," 
says  He,  "  f  have  made  thee  this  day  a  forti- 
fied city,  and  a  pillar  of  iron,  and  a  wall  of 
brass,  over  all  the  land,  to  the  kings  of  Judah, 
and  to  the  princes  thereof,  and  to  the  priests 
thereof,  and  to  all  the  people  of  the  land. 
And  they  shall  fight  against  thee,  and  shall 
not  prevail :  for  f  am  with  thee,  saith  the 
Lord,  to  deliver  thee."4 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Of  the  example  of  patience  given  by  a  certain  religious  woman. 

Of  this  patience  then  I  want  to  give  you  at 
least  two  examples:  one  of  a  certain  religious 
woman,  who  aimed  at  the  virtue  of  patience 
so  eagerly  that  she  not  only  did  not  avoid  the 
assaults  of  temptation,  but  actually  made  for 


1  Prov.  xvi.  32  ;  xiv.  29. 

2  Cf.  S.  Matt.  vii.  24,  59. 


8  S.  James  i.  12. 

4  2  Cor.  xii.  9 ;  Jer.  i.  18,  19. 


herself  occasions  of  trouble  that  she  might 
not  cease  to  be  tried  more  often.  For  this 
woman  as  she  was  living  at  Alexandria  and 
was  born  of  no  mean  ancestors,  and  was  serv- 
ing the  Lord  religiously  in  the  house  which 
had  been  left  to  her  by  her  parents,  came  to 
Athanasius  the  Bishop,  of  blessed  memory, 
and  entreated  him  to  give  her  some  other 
widow  to  support,  who  was  being  provided 
for  at  the  expense  of  the  Church.  And,  to 
give  her  petition  in  her  own  words :  "  Give 
me,"  she  said,  "one  of  the  sisters  to  look 
after. "  When  then  the  Bishop  had  com- 
mended the  woman's  purpose  because  he  saw 
that  she  was  very  ready  for  a  work  of  a  mercy, 
he  ordered  a  widow  to  be  chosen  out  of  the 
whole  number,  who  was  preferred  to  all  the  rest 
for  the  goodness  of  her  character,  and  her 
grave  and  well-regulated  life,  for  fear  lest  her 
wish  to  be  liberal  might  be  overcome  by  the 
fault  of  the  recipient  of  her  bounty,  and  she 
who  sought  gain  out  of  the  poor  might  be 
disgusted  at  her  bad  character  and  so  suffer 
an  injury  to  her  faith.  And  when  the  woman 
was  brought  home,  she  ministered  to  her  with 
all  kinds  of  service,  and  found  out  her  excel- 
lent modesty  and  gentleness,  and  saw  that 
every  minute  she  was  honoured  by  thanks 
from  her  for  her  kind  offices,  and  so  after  a 
few  days  she  came  back  to  the  aforesaid 
Bishop,  and  said:  I  asked  you  to  bid  that  a 
woman  be  given  to  me  for  me  to  support  and 
to  serve  with  obedient  complaisance.  And 
when  he,  not  yet  understanding  the  woman's 
object  and  desire,  thought  that  her  petition 
had  been  neglected  by  the  deceitfulness  of  the 
superior,  and  inquired  not  without  some  anger 
in  his  mind,  what  was  the  reason  of  the  delay, 
at  once  he  discovered  that  a  widow  who  was 
better  than  all  the  rest  had  been  assigned  to 
her,  and  so  he  secretly  gave  orders  that  the 
one  who  was  the  worst  of  all  should  be  given 
to  her,  the  one,  I  mean,  who  surpassed  in 
anger  and  quarrelling  and  wine-bibbing  and 
talkativeness  all  who  were  under  the  power 
of  these  faults.  And  when  she  was  only  too 
easily  found  and  given  to  her,  she  began  to 
keep  her  at  home,  and  to  minister  to  her  with 
the  same  care  as  to  the  former  widow,  or  even 
more  attentively,  and  this  was  all  the  thanks 
which  she  got  from  her  for  her  services ;  viz. ,  to 
be  constantly  tried  by  unworthy  wrongs  and 
continually  annoyed  by  her  by  reproaches 
and  upbraiding,  as  she  complained  of  her,  and 
chid  her  with  spiteful  and  disparaging  re- 
marks, because  she  had  asked  for  her  from 
the  Bishop  not  for  her  refreshment  but  rather 
for  her  torment  and  annoyance,  and  had  taken 
her  away  from  rest  to  labour  instead  of  from 
labour  to  rest.     When  then  her  continual  re- 


486 


CASSIAN'S   CONFERENCES. 


proaches  broke  out  so  far  that  the  wanton 
woman  did  not  restrain  herself  from  laying 
hands  on  her,  the  other  only  redoubled  her 
services  in  still  humbler  offices,  and  learnt  to 
overcome  the  vixen  not  by  resisting  her,  but 
by  subjecting  herself  still  more  humbly,  so 
that,  when  provoked  by  all  kinds  of  indig- 
nities, she  might  smooth  down  the  madness 
of  the  shrew  by  gentleness  and  kindness. 
And  when  she  had  been  thoroughly  strength- 
ened by  these  exercises,  and  had  attained  the 
perfect  virtue  of  the  patience  she  had  longed 
for,  she  came  to  the  aforesaid  Bishop  to  thank 
him  for  his  decision  and  choice  as  well  as  for 
the  blessing  of  her  exercise,  because  he  had 
at  last  as  she  wished  provided  her  with  a  most 
worthy  mistress  for  her  patience,  strengthened 
daily  by  whose  constant  annoyance  as  by 
some  oil  for  wrestling,  she  had  arrived  at 
complete  patience  of  mind;  and,  at  last,  said 
she,  you  have  given  me  one  to  support,  for 
the  former  one  rather  honoured  and  refreshed 
me  by  her  services.  This  may  be  sufficient 
to  have  told  about  the  female  sex,  that  by 
this  tale  we  may  not  only  be  edified,  but  even 
confounded,  as  we  cannot  maintain  our  pa- 
tience unless  we  are  like  wild  beasts  removed 
in  caves  and  cells. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Of  the  example  of  patience  given  by  Abbot  Paphnutius. 

Now  let  us  give  the  other  instance  of  Abbot 
Paphnutius,  who  always  remained  so  zeal- 
ously in  the  recesses  of  that  renowned  and 
far-famed  desert  of  Scete,  in  which  he  is  now 
Presbyter,  so  that  the  rest  of  the  anchorites 
gave  him  the  name  of  Bubalis,1  because  he 
always  delighted  in  dwelling  in  the  desert  as 
if  with  a  sort  of  innate  liking.  And  so  as 
even  in  boyhood  he  was  so  good  and  full  of 
grace  that  even  the  renowned  and  great  men 
of  that  time  admired  his  gravity  and  steadfast 
constancy,  and  although  he  was  younger  in 
age,  yet  put  him  on  a  level  with  the  Elders 
out  of  regard  for  his  virtues,  and  thought  fit 
to  admit  him  to  their  order,  the  same  envy, 
which  formerly  excited  the  minds  of  his 
brethren  against  the  patriarch  Joseph,  in- 
flamed one  out  of  the  number  of  his  brethren 
with  a  burning  and  consuming  jealousy.  And 
this  man  wanting  to  mar  his  beauty  by  some 
blemish  or  spot,  hit  on  this  kind  of  devilry, 
so  as  to  seize  an  opportunity  when  Paphnutius 
had  left  his  cell  to  go  to  Church  on  Sunday: 
and  secretly  entering  his  cell  he  slyly  hid  his 

1  i.e.,  the  Buffalo.     On  Paphnutius  see  the  note  on  Conf.  III. 


own  book  among  the  boughs  which  he  used 
to  weave  of  palm  branches,  and,  secure  of  his 
well-planned  trick,  himself  went  off  as  if  with 
a  pure  and  clean  conscience  to  Church.  And 
when  the  whole  service  was  ended  as  usual, 
in  the  presence  of  all  the  brethren  he  brought 
his  complaint  to  S.  Isidore 2  who  was  Presby- 
ter of  this  desert  before  this  same  Paphnutius, 
and  declared  that  his  book  had  been  stolen 
from  his  cell.  And  when  his  complaint  had 
so  disturbed  the  minds  of  all  the  brethren, 
and  more  especially  of  the  Presbyter,  so  that 
they  knew  not  what  first  to  suspect  or  think, 
as  all  were  overcome  with  the  utmost  astonish- 
ment at  so  new  and  unheard  of  a  crime,  such 
as  no  one  remembered  ever  to  have  been  com- 
mitted in  that  desert  before  that  time,  and 
which  has  never  happened  since,  he  who  had 
brought  forward  the  matter  as  the  accuser 
urged  that  they  should  all  be  kept  in  Church 
and  certain  selected  men  be  sent  to  search 
the  cells  of  the  brethren  one  by  one.  And 
when  this  had  been  entrusted  to  three  of  the 
Elders  by  the  Presbyter,  they  turned  over  the 
bed-chambers  of  them  all,  and  at  last  found 
the  book  hidden  in  the  cell  of  Paphnutius 
among  the  boughs  of  the  palms  which  they 
call  (teiq&,  just  as  the  plotter  had  hidden  it. 
And  when  the  inquisitors  at  once  brought  it 
back  to  the  Church  and  produced  it  before 
all,  Paphnutius,  although  he  was  perfectly 
clear  in  the  sincerity  of  his  conscience,  yet  like 
one  who  acknowledged  the  guilt  of  thieving, 
gave  himself  up  entirely  to  make  amends  and 
humbly  asked  for  a  plan  of  repentance,  as  he 
was  so  careful  of  his  shame  and  modesty  (and 
feared)  lest  if  he  tried  to  remove  the  stain 
of  the  theft  by  words,  he  might  further  be 
branded  as  a  liar,  as  no  one  would  believe 
anything  but  what  had  been  found  out.  And 
when  he  had  immediately  left  the  Church  not 
cast  down  in  mind  but  rather  trusting  to  the 
judgment  of  God,  he  continually  shed  tears  at 
his  prayers,  and  fasted  thrice  as  often  as 
before,  and  prostrated  himself  in  the  sight  of 
men  with  all  humility  of  mind.  But  when  he 
had  thus  submitted  himself  with  all  contrition 
of  flesh  and  spirit  for  almost  a  fortnight,  so 
that  he  came  early  on  the  morning  of  Satur- 
day and  Sunday  not  to  receive  the  Holy  Com- 
munion3 but  to  prostrate  himself  on  the 
threshold  of  the  Church  and  humbly  ask  for 
pardon,  He,  Who  is  the  witness  of  all  secret 
things  and  knows  them,  suffered  him  to  be  no 


2  Gazet  thinks  that  this  Isidore  is  the  same  person  as  the  one 
mentioned  in  the  Lausiac  History  c.  i.;  and  Sozomen  VI.  xxviii., 
but  doubts  whether  he  is  identical  with  the  person  of  the  same  name 
mentioned  in  Rufinus:  History  of  the  Monks  c.xvii.,  Sozomen  VIII. 
xii.,  and  Socrates  VI.  ix. 

3  On  the  Saturday  and  Sunday  celebration  of  the  Holy  Commun- 
ion in  Egypt  compare  the  Institutes  III.  ii.  In  Gaul  it  was  appar- 
ently received  daily:   Institutes  VI.  viii. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    PIAMUN. 


487 


longer  tried  by  Himself  or  defamed  by  others. 
For  what  the  author  of  the  crime,  the  wicked 
thief  of  his  own  property,  the  cunning  de- 
famer  of  another's  credit,  had  done  with  no 
man  there  as  a  witness,  that  He  made  known 
by  means  of  the  devil  who  was  himself  the 
instigator  of  the  sin.  For  possessed  by  a 
most  fierce  demon,  he  made  known  all  the 
craft  of  his  secret  plot,  and  the  same  man  who 
had  conceived  the  accusation  and  the  cheat 
betrayed  it.  But  he  was  so  long  and  griev- 
ously vexed  by  that  unclean  spirit  that  he 
could  not  even  be  restored  by  the  prayers  of  the 
saints  living  there,  who  by  means  of  divine 
gifts  can  command  the  devils,  nor  could  the 
special  grace  of  the  Presbyter  Isidore  himself 
cast  out  from  him  his  cruel  tormenter,  though 
by  the  Lord's  bounty  such  power  was  given 
him  that  no  one  who  was  possessed  was  ever 
brought  to  his  doors  without  being  at  once 
healed;  for  Christ  was  reserving  this  glory 
for  the  young  Paphnutius,  that  the  man 
should  be  cleansed  only  by  the  prayers  of  him 
against  whom  he  had  plotted,  and  that  the 
jealous  enemy  should  receive  pardon  for  his 
offence  and  an  end  of  his  present  punishment, 
only  by  proclaiming  his  name,  from  whose 
credit  he  had  thought  that  he  could  detract. 
He  then  in  his  early  youth  already  gave  these 
signs  of  his  future  character,  and  even  in  his 
boyish  years  sketched  the  lines  of  that  perfec- 
tion which  was  to  grow  up  in  mature  age.  If 
then  we  want  to  attain  to  his  height  of  virtue, 
we  must  lay  the  same  foundation  to  begin 
with. 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

On  the  perfection  of  patience. 

A  twofold  reason  however  led  me  to  relate 
this  fact,  first  that  we  may  weigh  this  stead- 
fastness and  constancy  of  the  man,  and  as 
we  are  attacked  by  less  serious  wiles  of  the 
enemy,  may  the  better  secure  a  greater  feeling 
of  calmness  and  patience,  secondly  that  we 
may  with  resolute  decision  hold  that  we  can- 
not be  safe  from  the  storms  of  temptation  and 
assaults  of  the  devil  if  we  make  all  the  pro- 
tection for  our  patience  and  all  our  confidence 
consist  not  in  the  strength  of  our  inner  man 
but  in  the  doors  of  our  cell  or  the  recesses  of 
the  desert,  and  companionship  of  the  saints, 
or  the  safeguard  of  anything  else  outside  us. 
For  unless  our  mind  is  strengthened  by  the 
power  of  His  protection  Who  says  in  the 
gospel  "the  kingdom  of  God  is  within  you,"  x 
in  vain  do  we  fancy  that  we  can  defeat  the 
plots  of  our  airy  foe  by  the  aid  of  men  who 

1  S.  Luke  xvii.  21. 


are  living  with  us,  or  that  we  can  avoid  them 
by  distance  of  place,  or  exclude  them  by  the 
protection  of  walls.  For  though  none  of  these 
things  was  wanting  to  Saint  Paphnutius  yet 
the  tempter  did  not  fail  to  find  a  way  of  ac- 
cess against  him  to  attack  him ;  nor  did  the 
encircling  walls,  or  the  solitude  of  the  desert 
or  the  merits  of  all  those  saints  in  the  con- 
gregation repulse  that  most  foul  spirit.  But 
because  the  holy  servant  of  God  had  fixed  the 
hope  of  his  heart  not  on  those  external  things 
but  on  Him  Who  is  the  judge  of  all  secrets, 
he  could  not  be  moved  even  by  the  machi- 
nations of  such  an  assault  as  that.  On  the 
other  hand  did  not  the  man  whom  envy  had 
hurried  into  so  grievous  a  sin  enjoy  the  bene- 
fit of  solitude  and  the  protection  of  a  retired 
dwelling,  and  intercourse  with  the  blessed 
Abbot  and  Presbyter  Isidore  and  other  saints? 
And  yet  because  the  storm  raised  by  the  devil 
found  him  upon  the  sand,  it  not  only  drove 
in  his  house  but  actually  overturned  it.  We 
need  not  then  seek  for  our  peace  in  externals, 
nor  fancy  that  another  person's  patience  can 
be  of  any  use  to  the  faults  of  our  impatience. 
For  just  as  "the  kingdom  of  God  is  within 
you,"  so  "a  man's  foes  are  they  of  his  own 
household."2  For  no  one  is  more  my  enemy 
than  my  own  heart  which  is  truly  the  one  of 
my  household  closest  to  me.  And  therefore 
if  we  are  careful,  we  cannot  possibly  be  in- 
jured by  intestine  enemies.  For  where  those 
of  our  own  household  are  not  opposed  to  us, 
there  also  the  kingdom  of  God  is  secured  in 
peace  of  heart.  For  if  you  diligently  investi- 
gate the  matter,  I  cannot  be  injured  by  any 
man  however  spiteful,  if  I  do  not  fight  against 
myself  with  warlike  heart.  But  if  I  am  in- 
jured, the  fault  is  not  owing  to  the  other's 
attack,  but  to  my  own  impatience.  For  as 
strong  and  solid  food  is  good  for  a  man  in 
good  health,  so  it  is  bad  for  a  sick  one.  But 
it  cannot  hurt  the  man  who  takes  it,  unless 
the  weakness  of  its  recipient  gives  it  its  power 
to  hurt.  If  then  any  similar  temptation  ever 
arises  among  brethren,  we  need  never  be 
shaken  out  of  the  even  tenor  of  our  ways  and 
give  an  opening  to  the  blasphemous  snarls  of 
men  living  in  the  world,  nor  wonder  that  some 
bad  and  detestable  men  have  secretly  found 
their  way  into  the  number  of  the  saints, 
because  so  long  as  we  are  trodden  down  and 
trampled  in  the  threshing  floor  of  this  world, 
the  chaff  which  is  destined  for  eternal  fire  is 
quite  sure  to  be  mingled  with  the  choicest  of 
the  wheat.  Finally  if  we  bear  in  mind  that 
Satan  was  chosen  among  the  angels,  and 
Judas  among  the  apostles,  and  Nicholas  the 

2  S.  Matt.  x.  36. 


488 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


author  of  a  detestable  heresy  among  the 
deacons,  it  will  be  no  wonder  that  the  basest 
of  men  are  found  among  the  ranks  of  the 
saints.  For  although  some  maintain  that  this 
Nicholas  was  not  the  same  man  who  was 
chosen  for  the  work  of  the  ministry  by  the 
Apostles,1  nevertheless  they  cannot  deny  that 
he  was  of  the  number  of  the  disciples,  all  of 
whom  were  clearly  of  such  a  character  and  so 
perfect  as  those  few  whom  we  can  now  with 
difficulty  discover  in  the  coenobia.  Let  us 
then  bring  forward  not  the  fall  of  the  above- 
mentioned  brother,  who  fell  in  the  desert 
with  so  grievous  a  collapse,  nor  that  horrible 
stain  which  he  afterwards  wiped  out  by  the  co- 
pious tears  of  his  penitence,  but  the  example 
of  the  blessed  Paphnutius;  and  let  us  not  be 
destroyed  by  the  ruin  of  the  former,  whose 
ingrained  sin  of  envy  was  increased  and  made 
worse  by  his  affected  piety,  but  let  us  imitate 
with  all  our  might  the  humility  of  the  latter, 
which  in  his  case  was  no  sudden  production 
of  the  quiet  of  the  desert,  but  had  been  gained 
among  men,  and  was  consummated  and  per- 
fected by  solitude.  However  you  should 
know  that  the  evil  of  envy  is  harder  to  be 
cured  than  other  faults,  for  I  should  almost 
say  that  a  man  whom  it  has  once  tainted  with 
the  mischief  of  its  poison  is  without  a  remedy. 
For  it  is  the  plague  of  which  it  is  figuratively 
said  by  the  prophet:  "Behold  I  will  send 
among  you  serpents,  basilisks,  against  which 
there  is  no  charm:  and  they  shall  bite  you."2 
Rightly  then  are  the  stings  of  envy  compared 
by  the  prophet  to  the  deadly  poison  of  basi- 
lisks, as  by  it  the  first  author  of  all  poisons 
and  their  chief  perished  and  died.  For  he 
slew  himself  before  him  of  whom  he  was  en- 
vious, and  destroyed  himself  before  that  he 
poured  forth  the  poison  of  death  against  man: 
for  "by  the  envy  of  the  devil  death  entered 
into  the  world:  they  therefore  who  are  on  his 
side  follow  him."3  For  just  as  he  who  was 
the  first  to  be  corrupted  by  the  plague  of  that 
evil,  admitted  no  remedy  of  penitence,  nor 
any  healing  plaster,  so  those  also  who  have 
given  themselves  up  to  be  smitten  by  the  same 
pricks,  exclude  all  the  aid  of  the  sacred 
charmer,  because  as  they  are  tormented  not 
by  the  faults  but  by  the  prosperity  of  those 
of  whom  they  are  jealous,  they  are  ashamed 
to  display  the  real  truth  and  look  out  for  some 
external    unnecessary   and    trifling  causes    of 

1  As  Cassian  here  implies,  considerable  doubt  exists  whether  the 
Nicholas  from  whom  the  sect  of  the  Nicolaitans(Rev.  ii.  15)  derive  their 
name  was  the  same  person  as  Nicholas  the  last  of  the  seven  "dea- 
cons "  mentioned  in  Acts  vi.  5.  According  to  Irenasus  (Haer.  I. 
xxvi.)  the  Nicolaitans  themselves  claimed  him  as  their  founder,  and 
the  claim  is  allowed  by  Hippolytus  (Philos.  vii.  §  36),  Epiphanins 
(H;er.  I.  ii.  §25),  and  other  writers  of  the  fourth  century.  Clement 
of  Alexandria  however  disputes  the  claim  (Strom.  1 1 T.  iv.  and  cf. 
Euseb.  H.  E.  III.  xxix.),  as  does  Theodoret  (Hsr.  Tab.  iii.  1). 
2  Jer.  viii.  17.  3  Wisd.  ii.  24,  25. 


offence :  and  of  these,  because  they  are  alto- 
gether false,  vain  is  the  hope  of  cure,  Avhile 
the  deadly  poison  which  they  will  not  pro- 
duce is  lurking  in  their  veins.  Of  which  the 
wisest  of  men  has  fitly  said :  "If  a  serpent 
bite  without  hissing,  there  is  no  supply  for 
the  charmer. "  4  For  those  are-  silent  bites,  to 
which  alone  the  medicine  of  the  wise  is  no 
succour.  For  that  evil*  is  so  far  incurable 
that  it  is  made  worse  by  attentions,  it  is  in- 
creased by  services,  is  irritated  by  presents, 
because  as  the  same  Solomon  says:  "envy 
endures  nothing."  5  For  just  in  proportion  as 
another  has  made  progress  in  humble  submis- 
sion or  in  the  virtue  of  patience  or  in  the 
merit  of  munificence,  so  is  a  man  excited  by 
worse  pricks  of  envy,  because  he  desires  no- 
thing less  than  the  ruin  or  death  of  the  man 
whom  he  envies.  Lastly  no  submission  on 
the  part  of  their  harmless  brother  could  soften 
the  envy  of  the  eleven  patriarchs,  so  that 
Scripture  relates  of  them:  "But  his  brothers 
envied  him  because  his  father  loved  him,  and 
they  could  not  speak  peaceably  unto  him"6 
until  their  jealousy,  which  would  not  listen  to 
any  entreaties  on  the  part  of  their  obedient 
and  submissive  brother,  desired  his  death, 
and  would  scarcely  be  satisfied  with  the  sin 
of  selling  a  brother.  It  is  plain  then  that 
envy  is  worse  than  all  faults,  and  harder  to 
get  rid  of,  as  it  is  inflamed  by  those  remedies 
by  which  the  others  are  destroyed.  For,  for 
example,  a  man  who  is  grieved  by  a  loss  that 
has  been  caused  to  him,  is  healed  by  a  liberal 
compensation :  one  who  is  sore  owing  to  a 
wrong  done  to  him,  is  appeased  by  humble 
satisfaction  being  made.  What  can  you  do 
with  one  who  is  the  more  offended  by  the 
very  fact  that  he  sees  you  humbler  and  kinder, 
who  is  not  aroused  to  anger  by  any  greed 
which  can  be  appeased  by  a  bribe ;  or  by  any 
injurious  attack  or  love  of  vengeance,  which 
is  overcome  by  obsequious  services ;  but  is 
only  irritated  by  another's  success  and  happi- 
ness? But  who  is  there  who  in  order  to 
satisfy  one  who  envies  him,  would  wish  to 
fall  from  his  good  fortune,  or  to  lose  his 
prosperity  or  to  be  involved  in  some  calamity? 
Wherefore  we  must  constantly  implore  the 
divine  aid,  to  which  nothing  is  impossible,  in 
order  that  the  serpent  may  not  by  a  single 
bite  of  this  evil  destroy  whatever  is  flourish- 
ing in  us,  and  animated  as  it  were  by  the  life 
and  quickening  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
For  the  other  poisons  of  serpents,  i.e.,  carnal 
sins  and  faults,  in  which  human  frailty  is 
easily  entangled  and  from  which  it  is  as  easily 
purified,   show  some    traces  of   their  wounds 


4  Eccl. 


6  Prov.  xxvii.  4. 


6  Gen.  xxxvii.  4. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   JOHN. 


489 


in  the  flesh,  whereby  although  the  earthly 
body  is  most  dangerously  inflamed,  yet  if  any 
charmer  well  skilled  in  divine  incantations 
applies  a  cure  and  antidote  or  the  remedy  of 
words  of  salvation,  the  poisonous  evil  does 
not  reach  to  the  everlasting  death  of  the  soul. 
.But  the  poison  of  envy  as  if  emitted  by  the 
basilisk,  destroys  the  very  life  of  religion  and 
faith,  even  before  the  wound  is  perceived  in 
the  body.  For  he  does  not  raise  himself  up 
against  men,  but,  in  his  blasphemy,  against 
God,  who  carps  at  nothing  in  his  brother 
except  his  felicity,  and  so  blames  no  fault 
of  man,  but  simply  the  judgment  of  God. 
This  then  is  that  "root  of  bitterness  springing 
up  "  x  which  raises  itself  to  heaven  and  tends 
to  reproaching  the  very  Author  Who  bestows 
good  things  on  man.  Nor  shall  anyone  be 
disturbed  because  God  threatens  to  send  "ser- 
pents, basilisks,"2  to  bite  those  by  whose 
crimes   He  is  offended.      For  although  it  is 


certain  that  God  cannot  be  the  author  of  envy, 
yet  it  is  fair  and  worthy  of  the  divine  judg- 
ment that,  while  good  gifts  are  bestowed  on 
the  humble  and  refused  to  the  proud  and 
reprobate,  those  who,  as  the  Apostle  says, 
deserve  to  be  given  over  "to  a  reprobate 
mind,"  5  should  be  smitten  and  consumed  by 
envy  sent  as  it  were  by  Him,  according  to 
this  passage :  "  They  have  provoked  me  to 
jealousy  by  them  that  are  no  gods:  and  I  will 
provoke  them  to  jealousy  by  them  that  are 
no  nation."  6 

By  this  discourse  the  blessed  Piamun  ex- 
cited still  more  keenly  our  desire  in  which  we 
had  begun  to  be  promoted  from  the  infant 
school  of  the  ccenobium  to  the  second  standard 
of  the  anchorites'  life.  For  it  was  under  his 
instruction  that  we  made  our  first  start  in  soli- 
tary living,  the  knowledge  of  which  we  after- 
wards followed  up  more  thoroughly  in  Scete. 


XIX. 


CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT  JOHN. 


ON  THE   AIM  OF  THE    CCENOBITE   AND   HERMIT. 


CHAPTER   I. 

Of  the  ccenobium  of  Abbot  Paul  and  the  patience  of  a  certain 
brother. 

After  only  a  few  days  we  made  our  way 
once  more  with  great  alacrity,  drawn  by  the 
desire  for  further  instruction,  to  the  ccenobium 
of  Abbot  Paul,  where  though  a  greater  number 
than  two  hundred  of  the  brethren  dwell  there, 
yet,  in  honour  of  the  festival  which  was  then 
being  held,  an  enormous  collection  of  monks 
from  other  coenobia  had  come  there  as  well : 
for  the  anniversary  of  the  death  3  of  a  former 
Abbot  who  had  presided  over  the  same  monas- 
tery was  being  solemnly  kept.  And  we  have 
mentioned  this  assembly  for  this  reason  that 
we  may  briefly  treat  of  the  patience  of  a  certain 
brother,  which  was  remarkable  for  immovable 
gentleness  on  his  part  in  the  presence  of  all  this 
congregation.  For  though  the  object  of  this 
work  has  regard  to  another  person;  viz.,  that 
we  may  produce  the  utterances  of  Abbot  John  4 


1  Heb.  xii.  15.  -  Jer.  viii.  17. 

3  Depositio.     A  word  frequently  used  for  the  day  of  the  death  (or 
burial)  in  Calendars  and  Martyrologies. 

4  On  this  Abbot  John  compare  the  note  on  the  Institutes  V.  xxviii. 


who  left  the  desert  and  submitted  himself  to 
that  ccenobium  with  the  utmost  goodness  and 
humility,  yet  we  think  it  not  at  all  absurd  to 
relate  without  any  unnecessary  verbiage,  what 
we  think  is  most  instructive  to  those  who  are 
eager  for  goodness.  And  so  when  the  whole 
body  of  the  monks  was  seated  in  separate 
parties  of  twelve,  in  the  large  open  court, 
when  one  of  the  brethren  had  been  rather  slow 
in  fetching  and  bringing  in  a  dish,  the  afore- 
said Abbot  Paul,  who  was  busily  hurrying 
about  among  the  troops  of  brethren  who  were 
serving,  saw  it  and  struck  him  such  a  blow 
before  them  all  on  his  open  palm  that  the 
sound  of  the  hand  which  was  struck  actually 
reached  the  ears  of  those  whose  backs  were 
turned  nd  who  were  sitting  some  way  off. 
But  the  youth  of  remarkable  patience  received 
it  with  such  calmness  of  mind  that  not  only 
did  he  let  no  word  fall  from  his  mouth  or  give 
the  slightest  sign  of  murmuring  by  the  silent 
movements  of  his  lips,  but  actually  did  not 
change  colour  in  the  slightest  degree  or  (lose) 
the  modest  and  peaceful  look  about  his  mouth. 


5  Rom.  i.  28 


c  Deut.  xxxii.  21. 


490 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


And  this  fact  struck  with  astonishment  not 
merely  us,  who  had  lately  come  from  a  monas- 
tery of  Syria  and  had  not  learnt  the  blessing 
of  this  patience  by  such  clear  examples,  but  all 
those  as  well  who  were  not  without  experience 
of  such  earnestness,  so  that  by  it  a  great  lesson 
was  taught  even  to  those  who  were  well  ad- 
vanced, because  even  if  this  paternal  correc- 
tion had  not  disturbed  his  patience,  neither 
did  the  presence  of  so  great  a  number  bring 
the  slightest  sign  of  colour  to  his  cheeks. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Of  Abbot  John's  humility  and  our  question. 

In  this  coenobium  then  we  found  a  very  old 
man  named  John,  whose  words  and  humility 
we  think  ought  certainly  not  to  be  passed  over 
in  silence  as  in  them  he  excelled  all  the  saints, 
as  we  know  that  he  was  especially  vigorous  in 
this  perfection,  which  though  it  is  the  mother 
of  all  virtues  and  the  surest  foundation  of 
the  whole  spiritual  superstructure,  yet  is  alto- 
gether a  stranger  to  our  system.  Wherefore 
it  is  no  wonder  that  we  cannot  attain  to  the 
height  of  those  men,  as  we  cannot  stand  the 
training  of  the  coenobium  I  will  not  say  up 
to  old  age,  but  are  scarcely  content  to  endure 
the  yoke  of  subjection  for  a  couple  of  years, 
and  at  once  escape  to  enjoy  a  dangerous  liberty, 
while  even  for  that  short  time  we  seem  to  be 
subject  to  the  rule  of  the  Elder  not  according 
to  any  strict  rule,  but  as  our  free  will  directs. 
When  then  we  had  seen  this  old  man  in  Abbot 
Paul's  coenobium,  we  were  struck,  first  by  his 
age  and  the'  grace  with  which  the  man  was 
endowed,  and  with  looks  fixed  on  the  ground 
began  to  entreat  him  to  vouchsafe  to  explain 
to  us  why  he  had  forsaken  the  freedom  of  the 
desert  and  that  exalted  profession,  in  which 
his  fame  and  celebrity  had  raised  him  above 
others  who  had  adopted  the  same  life,  and 
why  he  had  chosen  to  enter  under  the  yoke 
of  the  coenobium.  He  said  that  as  he  was 
unequal  to  the  system  of  the  anchorites  and 
unworthy  of  the  heights  of  such  perfection,  he 
had  gone  back  to  the  infant  school,  that  he 
might  learn  to  carry  out  the  lessons  taught 
there,  according  as  the  life  demanded.  And 
when  our  entreaties  were  not  satisfied  and 
we  refused  to  take  this  humble  answer,  at  last 
he  began  as  follows. 

CHAPTER   III. 

Abbot  John's  answer  why  he  had  left  the  desert. 

The  system  of  the  anchorites,  which  you  are 
surprised  at  my  leaving,  I  not  only  neither  re- 


ject nor  refuse,  but  rather  embrace  and  regard 
with  the  utmost  veneration :  in  which  system, 
and  after  I  had  passed  thirty  years  living  in 
a  coenobium,  I  rejoice  that  I  have  also  spent 
twenty  more,  so  that  I  can  never  be  accused  of 
sloth  among  those  who  tried  it  in  a  half-hearted 
way.  But  because  its  purity,  of  which  I  had 
had  some  slight  experience,  was  sometimes 
soiled  by  the  presence  of  anxiety  about  carnal 
matters,  it  seemed  better  to  return  to  the 
coenobium  to  secure  a  readier  attainment  of 
an  easier  aim  undertaken,  and  less  danger 
from  venturing  on  the  higher  life  of  the  hum- 
ble solitary.1  For  it  is  better  to  seem  earnest 
with  smaller  promises  than  careless  in  larger 
ones.  And  therefore  if  possibly  I  bring  for- 
ward anything  somewhat  arrogantly  and  indeed 
somewhat  too  freely,  I  beg  that  you  will  not 
think  it  due  to  the  sin  of  boasting  but  rather  to 
my  desire  for  your  edification ;  and  that,  as  I 
think  that,  when  you  ask  so  earnestly,  nothing 
of  the  truth  should  be  kept  back  from  you,  you 
will  set  it  down  to  love  rather  than  to  boast- 
ing. For  I  think  that  some  instruction  may 
be  given  to  you  if  I  lay  aside  my  humility, 
and  simply  lay  bare  the  whole  truth  about  my 
aim.  For  I  trust  that  I  shall  not  incur  any 
reproach  of  vainglory  from  you  because  of  the 
freedom  of  my  words,  nor  any  charge  of  false- 
hood from  my  conscience  because  of  any  sup- 
pression of  the  truth. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Of  the  excellence  which  the  aforesaid  old  man  showed  in  the 
system  of  the  anchorites. 

If  then  anyone  else  delights  in  the  recesses 
of  the  desert  and  would  forget  all  human  in- 
tercourse and  say  with  Jeremiah:  "I  have 
not  desired  the  day  of  man  :  Thou  knowest,"  2 
I  confess  that  by  the  blessing  of  God's 
grace,  I  also  secured  or  at  any  rate  tried  to 
secure  this.  And  so  by  the  kind  gift  of  the 
Lord  I  remember  that  I  was  often  caught  up 
into  such  an  ecstasy  as  to  forget  that  I  was 
clothed  with  the  burden  of  a  weak  body,  and 
my  soul  on  a  sudden  forgot  all  external 
notions  and  entirely  cut  itself  off  from  all 
material  objects,  so  that  neither  my  eyes  nor 
ears  performed  their  proper  functions.  And 
my  soul  was  so  filled  with  divine  meditations 


1  The  true  reading,  as  given  by  Petschenig,  appears  to  be  the 
following:  Et  minus  de  prcesumptce  s-ublimioris  prqfessionis  humili- 
tate pericuhan.  It  is  probably  on  account  of  its  difficulty  that 
humilitate  has  been  altered  iuto  difficultate,  as  in  the  text  of  Gazet 
(the  two  humilitate  difficultate  are  found  together  in  some  MSS.) 
But  the  fact  appears  to  be  that  humilittis  is  here  used  for  the  life 
of  an  anchorite,  as  in  Conference  XXIV.  ix.,  where  Abbot  Abraham 
uses  the  expression  districtionem  hujus  humilitatis.  The  word  is 
also  used  in  a  somewhat  similar  sense  in  Conf.  I.  xx.  and  XI.  ii. 

2  Jer.  xvii.  16. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   JOHN. 


491 


and  spiritual  contemplations  that  often  in 
the  evening  I  did  not  know  whether  I  had 
taken  any  food  and  on  the  next  day  was  very 
doubtful  whether  I  had  broken  my  fast  yester- 
day. For  which  reason,  a  supply  of  food  for 
seven  days,  i.e.,  seven  sets  of  biscuits  were 
set  apart  in  a  sort  of  hand-basket,1  and  laid 
by  on  Saturday,  that  there  might  be  no  doubt 
when  supper  had  been  omitted;  and  by  this 
plan  another  mistake  also  from  forgetfulness 
was  obviated,  for  when  the  number  of  cakes 
was  finished  it  showed  that  the  course  of  the 
week  was  over,  and  that  the  services  of  the 
same  day  had  come  round,  and  that  the  fes- 
tival and  holy  day  and  services  of  the  con- 
gregation could  not  escape  the  notice  of  the 
solitary.  But  even  if  that  ecstasy  of  mind  of 
which  we  have  spoken  should  happen  to  inter- 
fere with  this  arrangement,  yet  still  the  method 
of  the  days'  work  would  show  the  number  of 
the  days  and  check  the  mistake.  And  to  pass 
over  in  silence  the  other  advantages  of  the 
desert  (for  it  is  not  our  business  to  treat  of 
their  number  and  quantity,  but  rather  of  the 
aim  of  solitude  and  the  ccenobium)  I  will  the 
rather  briefly  explain  the  reasons  why  I  pre- 
ferred to  leave  it,  which  you  also  wanted  to 
know,  and  will  in  a  concise  discourse  glance 
at  all  those  fruits  of  solitude  which  I  men- 
tioned, and  show  to  what  greater  advantages 
on  the  other  side  they  ought  to  be  held 
inferior. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Of  the  advantages  of  the  desert. 

So  long  then  as  owing  to  the  fewness  of 
those  who  were  then  living  in  the  desert,  a 
greater  freedom  was  afforded  to  us  in  a  wider 
expanse  of  the  wilderness,  so  long  as  in  the 
seclusion  of  larger  retreats  we  were  caught  up 
to  those  celestial  ecstasies,  and  were  not  over- 
whelmed by  a  great  quantity  of  brethren  to 
visit  us,  and  thus  owing  to  the  necessity 
of  showing  hospitality  overburdened  in  our 
thoughts  by  the  distractions  of  great  cares,  I 
frequented  with  insatiable  desire  and  all  my 
heart  the  peaceful  retreats  of  the  desert  and 
that  life  which  can  only  be  compared  to  the 
bliss  of  the  angels.  But  when,  as  I  said,  a 
larger  number  of  the  brethren  began  to  seek 
a  dwelling  in  that  desert,  and  by  cramping 
the  freedom  of  the  vast  wilderness,  not  only 
caused  that  fire  of  divine  contemplation  to 
grow  cold,  but  also  entangled  the  mind  in 
many  ways  in  the  chains  of  carnal  matters,  I 
determined  to  carry  out  my  purpose  in   this 


1  In  prochirio  id  est  admanuensi  sport  a. 


system  rather  than  to  grow  cold  in  that  sub- 
lime mode  of  life,  by  providing  for  carnal 
wants;  so  that,  if  that  liberty  and  those  spi- 
ritual ecstasies  are  denied  me,  yet  as  all  care 
for  the  morrow  is  avoided,  I  may  console  my- 
self by  fulfilling  the  precept  of  the  gospel, 
and  what  I  lose  in  sublimity  of  contemplation, 
may  be  made  up  to  me  by  submission  and 
obedience.  For  it  is  a  wretched  thing  for  a 
man  to  profess  to  learn  any  art  or  pursuit, 
and  never  to  arrive  at  perfection  in  it. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

Of  the  conveniences  of  the  ccenobium. 

Wherefore  I  will  briefly  explain  what  ad- 
vantages I  now  enjoy  in  this  manner  of  life. 
You  must  consider  my  words  and  judge 
whether  those  advantages  of-  the  desert  out- 
weigh these  comforts,  and  by  this  you  will 
also  be  able  to  prove  whether  I  chose  to  be 
cramped  within  the  narrow  limits  of  the  cceno- 
bium from  dislike  or  from  desire  of  that  purity 
of  the  solitary  life.  In  this  life  then  there  is 
no  providing  for  the  day's  work,  no  distrac- 
tions of  buying  and  selling,  no  unavoidable 
care  for  the  year's  food,  no  anxiety  about 
bodily  things,  by  which  one  has  to  get  ready 
what  is  necessary  not  only  for  one's  own  wants 
but  also  for  those  of  any  number  of  visitors, 
finally  no  conceit  from  the  praise  of  men, 
which  is  worse  than  all  these  things  and  some- 
times in  the  sight  of  God  does  away  with  the 
good  of  even  great  efforts  in  the  desert.  But, 
to  pass  over  those  waves  of  spiritual  pride  and 
the  deadly  peril  of  vainglory  in  the  life  of 
the  anchorite,  let  us  return  to  this  general  bur- 
den which  affects  everybody,  i.e.,  the  ordinary 
anxiety  in  providing  food,  which  has  so  far 
exceeded  I  say  not  the  measure  of  that  ancient 
strictness  which  altogether  did  without  oil,  but 
is  beginning  not  to  be  content  even  with  the 
relaxation  of  our  own  time  according  to  which 
the  requirements  of  all  the  supply  of  food  for 
a  year  were  satisfied  by  the  preparation  of  a 
single  pint  of  oil  and  a  modius  of  lentils  pre- 
pared for  the  use  of  visitors ;  but  now  the  need- 
ful supply  of  food  is  scarcely  met  by  two  or 
three  times  that  amount.  And  to  such  an  extent 
has  the  force  of  this  dangerous  relaxation 
grown  among  some  that,  when  they  mix  vine- 
gar and  sauce,  they  do  not  add  that  single  drop 
of  oil,  which  our  predecessors  who  followed 
the  rules  of  the  desert  with  greater  powers  of 
abstinence,  were  accustomed  to  pour  in  simply 
for  the  sake  of  avoiding  vainglory,1  but  they 

1  Cf.  Conference  VIII. 


492 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


break  an  Egyptian  cheese  for  luxury  and  pour 
over  it  more  oil  than  is  required,  and  so  take, 
under  a  single  pleasant  relish,  two  sorts  of 
food  which  differ  in  their  special  flavour,  each 
of  which  ought  singly  to  be  a  pleasant  refresh- 
ment at  different  times  for  a  monk.  To  such 
a  pitch  however  has  this  tifaxty  Kiijo-tg,  i.e.,  ac- 
quisition of  material  things  grown,  that  actually 
under  pretence  of  hospitality  and  welcoming 
guests  anchorites  have  begun  to  keep  a  blanket 
in  their  cells  —  a  thing  which  I  cannot  men: 
tion  without  shame  —  to  omit  those  things  by 
which  the  mind  that  is  awed  by  and  intent 
on  spiritual  meditation  is  more  especially 
hampered;  viz.,  the  concourse  of  brethren,  the 
duties  of  receiving  the  coming  and  speeding 
the  parting  guest,  visits  to  each  other  and  the 
endless  worry  of  various  confabulations  and 
occupations,  the  expectation  of  which  owing 
to  the  continuous  character  of  these  customary 
interruptions  keeps  the  mind  on  the  stretch 
even  during  the  time  when  these  bothers 
seem  to  cease.  And  so  the  result  is  that  the 
freedom  of  the  anchorite's  life  is  so  hindered 
by  these  ties  that  it  can  never  rise  to  that  in- 
effable keenness  of  heart,  and  thus  loses  the 
fruits  of  its  hermit  life.  And  if  this  is  now 
denied  to  me  while  I  am  living  in  the  congre- 
gation and  among  others,  at  least  there  is  no 
lack  of  peace  of  mind  and  tranquillity  of  heart 
that  is  freed  from  all  business.  And  unless 
this  is  ready  at  hand  for  those  also  who  live 
in  the  desert,  they  will  indeed  have  to  undergo 
the  labours  of  the  anchorite's  life,  but  will  lose 
its  fruits  which  can  only  be  gained  in  peaceful 
stability  of  mind.  Finally  even  if  there  is  any 
diminution  of  my  purity  of  heart  while  I  am 
living  in  the  ccenobium,  I  shall  be  satisfied  by 
keeping  in  exchange  that  one  precept  of  the 
Gospel,  which  certainly  cannot  be  less  es- 
teemed than  all  those  fruits  of  the  desert ;  I 
mean  that  I  should  take  no  thought  for  the 
morrow,  and  submitting  myself  completely  to 
the  Abbot  seem  in  some  degree  to  emulate 
Him  of  whom  it  is  said:  "He  humbled  Him- 
self, and  became  obedient  unto  death;"  and 
so  be  able  humbly  to  make  use  of  His  words: 
"  For  I  came  not  to  do'  mine  own  will,  but  the 
will  of  the  Father  which  sent  me."  x 


CHAPTER   VII. 

A  question  on  the  fruits  of  the  ccenobium  and  the  desert. 

Germanus:  Since  it  is  evident  that  you 
have  not,  like  so  many,  just  touched  the  mere 
outskirts    of    each    mode    of    life,    but   have 


1  Phil.  ii.  8;  S.  John  vi.  3S. 


ascended  to  the  very  heights,  we  should  like 
to  know  what  is  the  end  of  the  coenobite's  life 
and  what  the  end  of  the  hermit's.  For  no  one 
can  doubt  that  no  man  can  discourse  with 
greater  fulness  or  fidelity  on  these  subjects 
than  one  who,  taught  by  long  use  and  experi- 
ence, has  followed  them  both,  and  so  can  by 
veracious  teaching  show  us  their  value  and 
aim. 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

The  answer  to  the  question  proposed. 

John  :  I  should  absolutely  maintain  that  one 
and  the  same  man  could  not  attain  perfection 
in  both  lives  unless  I  was  hindered  by  the 
example  of  some  few.  And  since  it  is  no 
small  matter  to  find  a  man  who  is  perfect  in, 
either  of  them,  it  is  clear  how  much  harder 
and  I  had  almost  said  impossible  it  is  for  a 
man  to  be  thoroughly  efficient  in  both.  And 
if  this  has  ever  happened,  it  cannot  come 
under  any  general  rule.  For  a  general  rule 
must  be  based  not  on  exceptional  instances, 
i.e.,  on  the  experience  of  a  very  few,  but  on: 
what  is  within  the  power  of  the  many  or  rather 
of  all.  But  what  is  attained  to  here  and 
there  by  but  one  or  two,  and  is  beyond  the 
capacity  of  ordinary  goodness,  must  be  kept 
out  of  general  rules  as  something  permitted 
outside  the  condition  and  nature  of  human 
weakness,  and  should  be  brought  forward  as 
a  miracle  rather  than  as  an  example.  Where- 
fore I  will,  as  my  slender  ability  allows,  briefly 
intimate  what  you  want  to  know.  The  aim 
indeed  of  the  coenobite  is  to  mortify  and 
crucify  all  his  desires  and,  according  to  that 
salutary  command  of  evangelic  perfection,  to 
take  no  thought  for  the  morrow.  And  it  is 
perfectly  clear  that  this  perfection  cannot  be 
attained  by  any  except  a  coenobite,  such  a  man 
as  the  prophet  Isaiah  describes  and  blesses 
and  praises  as  follows:  "If  thou  turn  away 
thy  foot  from  the  Sabbath,  from  doing  thy 
own  will  in  my  holy  da)%  and  glorify  Him, 
while  thou  dost  not  thine  own  ways,  and  thine 
own  will  is  not  found  to  speak  a  word:  then 
shalt  thou  be  delighted  in  the  Lord,  and  I  will 
lift  thee  up  above  the  high  places  of  the  earth, 
and  will  feed  thee  with  the  inheritance  of 
Jacob  thy  father.  For  the  mouth  of  the  Lord 
hath  spoken  it. "  "  But  the  perfection  for  a 
hermit  is  to  have  his  mind  freed  from  all 
earthly  things,  and  to  unite  it,  as  far  as 
human  frailty  allows,  with  Christ :  and  such  a 
man  the  prophet  Jeremiah  describes  when  he 
says:  "  Blessed  is  the  man  who  hath  borne  the 


2  Is.  lviii.  13,  r-4. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   JOHN. 


493 


yoke  from  his  youth.  He  shall  sit  solitary 
and  hold  his  peace,  because  he  hath  taken  it 
upon  himself;"  the  Psalmist  also:  "I  am 
become  like  a  pelican  in  the  desert.  I 
watched  and  became  as  a  sparrow  alone  upon 
the  housetop."  *  To  this  aim  then,  which  we 
have  described  as  that  of  either  life,  unless 
each  of  them  attains,  in  vain  does  the  one 
adopt  the  system  of  the  ccenobium,  and  the 
other  of  the  hermitage:  for  neither  of  them 
will  get  the  good  of  his  method  of  life. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

Of  true  and  complete  perfection. 

But  this  is  //foixrj,  i.e.,  no  thorough  and 
altogether  complete  perfection,  but  only  a 
partial  one.  Perfection  then  is  very  rare 
and  granted  by  God's  gift  to  but  a  very  few. 
For  he  is  truly  and  not  partially  perfect 
who  with  equal  imperturbability  can  put  up 
with  the  squalor  of  the  wilderness  in  the 
desert,  as  well  as  the  infirmities  of  the  bre- 
thren in  the  coenobium.  And  so  it  is  hard  to 
find  one  who  is  perfect  in  both  lives,  be- 
cause the  anchorite  cannot  thoroughly  acquire 
uy-jiiuoavvi^  i.e.,  a  disregard  for  and  stripping 
oneself  of  material  things,  nor  the  coenobite 
purity  in  contemplation,  although  we  know 
that  Abbot  Moses  and  Paphnutius  and  the 
two  Macarii  2  were  masters  of  both  in  perfec- 
tion. And  so  they  were  perfect  in  either 
life,  and  while  they  withdrew  further  than 
all  the  dwellers  in  the  desert  and  delighted 
themselves  unceasingly  in  the  retirement  of 
the  wilderness,  and  as  far  as  in  them  lay 
never  sought  intercourse  with  other  men,  yet 
they  put  up  with  the  presence  and  the  infirm- 
ities of.  those  who  came  to  them  so  that  when 
a  large  number  of  the  brethren  came  to  them 
for  the  sake  of  seeing  them  and  profiting 
by  it,  they  endured  this  almost  continuous 
trouble  of  receiving  them  with  imperturb- 
able patience,  and  men  fancied  that  all  the 
days  of  their  life  they  had  neither  learnt  nor 
practised  anything  but  how  to  show  common 
civility  to  those  who  came,  so  that  it  was  a 
puzzle  to  all  to  say  in  which  life  their  zeal 
was  mainly  shown,  i.e.,  whether  their  great- 
ness adapted  itself  more  remarkably  to  the 
purity  of  the  hermitage  or  to  the  common  life. 

CHAPTER   X. 

Of  those  who  while  still  imperfect  retire  into  the  desert. 

But  some  are  sometimes  so  tantalized  by 
the  silence  of  the  desert  lasting  all  through 

1  Lam.  iii.  27,  28;   Ps.  ci.  (cii.)  7,  8. 

2.  Moses,  Paphnutius,  and  the  two  Macarii  have  all  been  men- 


the  day  that  they  altogether  dread  intercourse 
with  men,  and,  when  they  have  even  for  a 
little  while  broken  through  their  habit  of 
retirement  owing  to  the  accident  of  a  visit 
from  some  of  the  brethren,  boil  over  with 
marked  vexation  of  mind,  and  show  clear 
signs  of  annoyance.  And  this  especially 
happens  in  the  case  of  those  who  have  betaken 
themselves  to  the  solitary  life  without  a  well- 
matured  purpose  and  without  being  thoroughly 
trained  in  the  ccenobium,  as  these  men  are 
always  imperfect  and  easily  upset,  and  in- 
cline to  one  side  or  the  other,  as  the  gales  of 
trouble  may  drive  them.  For  as  they  boil  over 
impatiently  at  intercourse  or  conversation  with 
the  brethren,  so  while  they  are  living  in  solitude 
they  cannot  stand  the  vastness  of  that  silence 
which  they  themselves  have  courted,  inasmuch 
as  they  themselves  do  not  even  know  the 
reason  why  solitude  ought  to  be  wanted  and- 
sought  for,  but  imagine  that  the  value  and  the 
main  part  of  this  life  consist  in  this;  viz.,  in 
avoiding  intercourse  with  the  brethren  and 
simply  shunning  and  loathing  the  sight  of  a 
man. 


CHAPTER   XL 


A  question  how  to  cure  those  who  have  hastily  left  the 
congregation  of  the  ccenobium. 


Germanus  :  By  what  treatment  can  any  help 
be  given  to  us  or  to  others  who  are  thus  weak 
and  only  up  to  this;  who  had  received  but 
little  instruction  in  the  system  of  the  cceno- 
bium when  we  began  to  aspire  to  dwell  in 
solitude  before  we  had  got  rid  of  our  faults; 
or  by  what  means  shall  we  be  able  to  acquire 
the  constancy  of  an  imperturbable  mind,  and 
immovable  steadfastness  of  patience ;  we  who 
all  too  soon  gave  up  the  common  life  in 
the  ccenobium,  and  forsook  the  schools  and 
training  ground  for  these  exercises,  in  which 
our  principles  ought  first  to  have  been  tho- 
roughly schooled  and  perfected?  How  then 
can  we  now  while  we  are  living  alone  gain  per- 
fection in  long-suffering  and  patience ;  or  how 
can  conscience,  that  searcher  out  of  inward 
motives,  discover  whether  these  virtues  exist 
in  us  or  are  wanting,  so  that  because  we  are 
severed  from  intercourse  with  men,  and  not 
irritated  by  any  of  their  provocations,  we  may 
not  be  deceived  by  false  notions,  and  fancy 
that  we  have  gained  that  imperturbable  peace 
of  mind? 


tioned  frequently  before.  On  Moses  (to  whom  the  first  two  Con- 
ferences are  assigned)  see  the  note  on  the  Institutes  X.  xxv.  ;  on 
Paphnutius  see  on  Conference  III.  i. ;  and  on  the  two  Macarii,  the 
Institutes  V.  xli. 


494 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

The  answer  telling  how  a  solitary  can  discover  his  faults. 

John  :  To  those  who  are  really  seeking  relief, 
healing  remedies  from  the  true  Physician  of 
souls  will  certainly  not  be  wanting;  and  to 
those  above  all  will  they  be  given  who  do  not 
disregard  their  ill-condition  (either  because 
they  despair  of  it,  or  because  they  do  not  care 
about  it),  nor  hide  the  danger  they  are  in  from 
their  wound,  nor  in  their  wanton  heart  reject 
the  remedy  of  penitence,  but  with  an  humble 
and  yet  careful  heart  flee  to  the  heavenly 
Physician  for  the  diseases  they  have  con- 
tracted from  ignorance  or  error  or  necessity. 
And  so  we  ought  to  know  that  if  we  retire  to 
solitude  or  secret  places,  without  our  faults 
being  first  cured,  their  operation  is  but  re- 
pressed, while  the  power  of  feeling  them  is 
not  extinguished.  For  the  root  of  all  sins  not 
having  been  eradicated  is  still  lying  hid  in  us, 
or  rather  creeping  up,  and  that  it  is  still  alive 
we  can  tell  by  these  signs.  For  instance,  if, 
when  we  are  living  in  solitude  we  receive  the 
approach  of  some  brethren,  or  any  very  slight 
tarrying  on  their  part,  with  any  anxiety  or  | 
fretfulness  of  mind,  we  should  recognize  that 
an  incentive  to  the  most  hasty  impatience  is 
still  existing  in  us.  But  if  when  we  are  ho- 
ping for  the  coming  of  a  brother,  and  from 
some  cause  he  perhaps  delays  a  little,  our 
mental  indignation  either  silently  blames  his 
slowness,  and  annoyance  at  this  inconvenient 
waiting  disturbs  our  mind,  the  examination 
of  our  conscience  will  show  that  the  sin  of 
anger  and  vexation  is  plainly  still  remaining 
in  us.  Again,  if  when  a  brother  asks  for  our 
book  to  read,  or  for  some  other  article  to  use, 
his  request  annoys  us,  or  a  refusal  on  our  part 
disgusts  him,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  we 
are  still  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  avarice 
or  covetousness.  But  if  a  sudden  thought  or 
a  passage  of  Holy  Scripture  brings  up  the 
recollection  of  a  woman  and  we  feel  that  we 
are  at  all  attracted  towards  her,  we  should 
know  that  the  fire  of  fornication  is  not  yet 
extinguished  in  us.  But  if  on  a  comparison 
of  our  own  strictness  with  the  laxity  of  another 
even  the  slightest  conceit  tries  our  mind,  it  is 
clear  that  we  are  affected  with  the  dreadful 
plague  of  pride.  When  then  we  detect  these 
signs  of  faults  in  our  heart,  we  should  clearly 
recognize  that  it  is  only  the  opportunity  and 
not  the  passion  of  sin  of  which  we  are  deprived. 
And  certainly  these  passions,  if  at  any  time 
we  were  to  mingle  in  the  ordinary  life  of  men, 
would  at  once  start  up  from  their  lurking 
places  in  our  thoughts  and  prove  that  they 
did  not  then  for  the  first  time  come  into  exist- 


ence when  they  broke  out,  but  that  they  were 
then  at  last  made  public,  because  they  had 
been  long  lying  hid.  And  so  even  a  solitary 
can  detect  by  sure  signs  that  the  roots  of  each 
fault  are  still  implanted  in  him,  if  he  tries 
not  to  show  his  purity  to  men,  but  to  main- 
tain it  inviolate  in  His  sight,  from  whom  no 
secrets  of  the  heart  can  be  hid. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

A  question  how  a  man  can  be  cured  who  has  entered  on 
solitude  without  having  his  faults  eradicated. 

Germanus:  We  very  clearly  and  plainly 
see  the  proofs  by  which  the  signs  of  infirmi- 
ties are  inferred,  and  the  method  of  discern- 
ing diseases,  i.e.,  how  the  faults  which  are 
concealed  in  us  can  be  detected:  for  our  every 
day  experience  and  the  daily  motions  of  our 
thoughts  show  us  all  these  as  they  have  been 
stated.  It  remains  then  that  as  the  proofs 
and  causes  of  our  maladies  have  been  exposed 
to  us  in  a  most  clear  way  so  their  remedies 
and  cures  may  also  be  shown.  For  no  one 
can  doubt  that  one  who  has  first  discovered 
the  grounds  and  beginnings  of  ailments,  with 
the  approving  witness  of  the  conscience  of 
those  affected,  can  best  discourse  on  their 
remedies.  And  so  though  the  teaching  of 
your  holiness  has  laid  bare  the  secrets  of  our 
wounds  whereby  we  venture  to  have  some 
hope  of  a  remedy,  because  so  clear  a  dia- 
gnosis of  the  disease  gives  promise  of  the  hope 
of  a  cure,  yet  because,  as  you  say,  the  first 
elements  of  salvation  are  acquired  in  the 
ccenobium,  and  men  cannot  be  in  a  sound 
condition  in  solitude,  unless  they  have  first 
been  healed  by  the  medicine  of  the  cceno- 
bium, we  have  fallen  again  into  a  dangerous 
state  of  despair  lest  as  we  left  the  ccenobium 
in  an  imperfect  condition  we  may  not  now 
that  we  are  in  the  desert  succeed  in  becoming 
perfect. 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

The  answer  on  their  remedies. 

John  :  For  those  who  are  anxious  for  the 
cure  of  their  ailments  a  saving  remedy  is  sure 
not  to  be  wanting,  and  therefore  remedies 
should  be  sought  by  the  same  means  that  the 
signs  of  each  fault  are  discovered.  For  as 
we  have  said  that  the  faults  of  men's  ordinary 
life  are  not  wanting  to  solitaries,  so  we  do 
not  deny  that  all  zeal  for  virtue,  and  all  the 
means  of  healing  are  at  the  disposal  of  all 
those  who  are  cut  off  from  men's  ordinary 
life.     When  then  anyone  discovers  by  those 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   JOHN. 


495 


signs  which  we  described  above,  that  he  is 
attacked  by  outbreaks  of  impatience  or  anger, 
he  should  always  practise  himself  in  the  oppo- 
site and  contrary  things,  and  by  setting  before 
himself  all  sorts  of  injuries  and  wrongs,  as  if 
offered  to  him  by  somebody  else,  accustom  his 
mind  to  submit  with  perfect  humility  to  every- 
thing that  wickedness  can  bring  upon  him; 
and  by  often  representing  to  himself  all  kinds 
of  rough  and  intolerable  things,  continually 
consider  with  all  sorrow  of  heart  with  what 
gentleness  he  ought  to  meet  them.  And,  by 
thus  looking  at  the  sufferings  of  all  the  saints, 
or  indeed  at  those  of  the  Lord  Himself,  he 
will  admit  that  the  various  reproaches  as  well 
as  punishments  are  less  than  he  deserves,  and 
prepare  himself  to  endure  all  kinds  of  griefs. 
And  when  occasionally  he  has  been  recalled 
by  some  invitation  to  the  assembly  of  the 
brethren  —  a  thing  which  cannot  but  happen 
every  now  and  then  even  to  the  strictest  in- 
mates of  the  desert,  —  if  he  finds  that  his  mind 
is  silently  disturbed  even  for  trifles,  he  should 
like  some  stern  censor  of  his  secret  emotions 
charge  himself  with  all  those  various  hard 
wrongs,  to  the  perfect  endurance  of  which  he 
was  training  himself  by  his  daily  meditations, 
and  blaming  and  chiding  himself  as  follows, 
say:  My  good  man,  are  you  the  fellow  who 
while  training  yourself  in  the  practising 
ground  of  solit.ude,  ventured  most  deter- 
minedly to  think  that  you  would  get  the 
better  of  all  bad  qualities,  and  who  just  now, 
when  you  were  representing  to  yourself  not 
only  all  sorts  of  bitter  reproaches,  but  also 
intolerable  punishments,  fancied  that  you 
were  pretty  strong  and  able  to  stand  against 
all  storms  ?  How  is  it  that  that  unconquered 
patience  of  yours  is  upset  by  the  first  trial 
even  of  a  light  word?  How  is  it  that  even  a 
gentle  breeze  has  shaken  that  house  of  yours 
which  you  fancied  was  built  so  strongly  on  the 
solid  rock?  Where  is  that  which  you  an- 
nounced when  during  a  time  of  peace  you 
were  in  your  foolish  confidence  longing  for 
war?  "I  am  ready,  and  am  not  troubled;" 
and  this  which  you  used  often  to  say  with  the 
prophet :  "  Prove  me,  O  Lord,  and  try  me 
search  out  my  reins  and  my  heart;"  and 
"prove  me,  O  Lord,  and  know  my  heart 
question  me  and  know  my  paths ;  and  see  if 
there  be  any  way  of  wickedness  in  me."1 
How  has  a  tiny  ghost  of  an  enemy  frightened 
your  grand  preparations  for  war?  With  such 
reproaches  and  remorse  a  man  should  con- 
demn himself  and  not  allow  the  sudden  temp- 
tation which  has  upset  him  to  go  unpunished, 
but   by   chastising   his    flesh    with    a    severer 


1  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  60;  xxv.  (xxvi.)  2;  cxxxviii.  (cxxxix.)  23,  24. 


penalty  of  fasting  and  vigils;  and,  by  punish- 
ing his  sin  of  lightness  of  mind  by  continual 
pains  of  self-restraint,  he  should  while  living 
in  solitude  consume  in  this  fire  of  practice 
what  he  ought  to  have  thoroughly  driven  out 
in  the  life  of  the  ccenobium.  This  at  any 
rate  we  must  firmly  and  resolutely  hold  to  in 
order  to  secure  a  lasting  and  unbroken  pa- 
tience; viz.,  that  for  us,  to  whom  by  the 
Divine  law  not  merely  vengeance  for,  but 
even  the  recollection  of  injuries  is  forbidden, 
it  is  not  permissible  to  be  roused  to  anger 
because  of  some  loss  or  annoyance.  For 
what  greater  injury  can  happen  to  the  soul  than 
for  it,  owing  to  some  sudden  blindness  from 
rage,  to  lose  the  brightness  of  the  true  and 
eternal  light  and  to  fail  of  the  sight  of  Him 
"Who  is  meek  and  lowly  of  heart?  "  2  What 
I  ask  could  be  more  dangerous  or  awkward 
than  for  a  man  to  lose  his  power  of  judging 
of  goodness,  and  his  standard  and  rule  of 
true  discernment,  and  for  one  in  his  sober 
senses  to  do  what  even  a  drunken  man,  and  a 
fool  would  not  be  pardoned  for  doing?  One 
then  who  carefully  considers  these  and  other 
injuries  of  the  same  kind,  will  readily  endure 
and  disregard  not  only  all  kinds  of  losses,  but 
also  whatever  wrongs  and  punishments  can 
be  inflicted  by  the  cruellest  of  men,  as  he 
will  hold  that  there  is  nothing  more  dama- 
ging than  anger,  nor  more  valuable  than  peace 
of  mind  and  unbroken  purity  of  heart,  for  the 
sake  of  which  we  should  think  nothing  of  the 
advantages  not  merely  of  carnal  matters  but 
also  of  those  things  which  appear  to  be  spi- 
ritual, if  they  cannot  be  gained  or  done  with- 
out some  disturbance  of  this  tranquillity. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

A  question  whether  chastity  ought  to  be  ascertained  just  as 
the  other  feelings. 


Germanus  :  As  the  cure  for  other  ailments, 
viz.,  anger,  vexation,  and  impatience,  has 
been  shown  to  consist  in  opposing  to  them 
their  contraries,  so  also  we  should  like  to 
learn  what  sort  of  treatment  we  ought  to  use 
against  the  spirit  of  fornication :  I  mean, 
whether  the  fire  of  lust  can  be  quenched 
by  the  representation,  as  in  those  other  cases, 
of  greater  inducements  and  things  to  excite 
it:  because  not  merely  to  increase  the  incen- 
tives to  lust  within  us,  but  even  to  touch  them 
with  a  passing  look  of  the  mind,  we  believe 
to  be  utterly  fatal  to  chastity. 


-  S.  Matt.  xi.  29. 


496 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  answer  giving  the  proofs  by  which  it  can  be  recognized. 

John  :  Your  shrewd  question  has  antici- 
pated the  subject,  which  even  if  you  had  said 
nothing  must  have  arisen  from  our  discourse, 
and  therefore  I  do  not  doubt  that  it  will  be 
effectually  grasped  by  your  minds,  since  in- 
deed your  sharp  wits  have  outstripped  our 
instruction.  For  the  puzzle  of  any  question 
is  easily  removed,  when  the  inquiry  antici- 
pates the  answer,  and  is  the  first  to  travel 
along  the  road  which  it  is  to  follow.  And  so 
to  the  treatment  of  those  faults  of  which  we 
have  spoken  above,  intercourse  with  other  men 
is  not  merely  no  hindrance,  but  a  considerable 
help,  for  the  more  often  that  the  outbursts  of 
their  impatience  are  exposed,  the  more  tho- 
rough is  the  sorrow  and  compunction  which 
they  bring  on  those  who  have  failed,  and  the 
speedier  is  the  recovery  of  health  which  they 
confer  on  those  who  struggle  against  them. 
Wherefore  even  when  we  are  living  in  solitude, 
though  the  incentive  to  irritation  and  matter 
for  it  cannot  arise  from  men,  yet  we  ought  of 
set  purpose  to  meditate  on  incitements  to  it, 
that  as  we  are  fighting  against  it  with  a  con- 
tinual struggle  in  our  thoughts  a  speedier  cure 
for  it  may  be  found  for  us.  But  against  the 
spirit  of  fornication  the  system  is  different, 
and  the  method  an  altered  one.  For  as  we 
must  deprive  the  body  of  opportunities  of  lust, 
and  contact  with  flesh,  so  we  must  deprive  the 
mind  of  the  recollection  of  it.  For  it  is  suffi- 
ciently dangerous  for  bosoms  that  are  still 
weak  and  infirm  even  to  tolerate  the  slight- 


est recollection  of  this  passion,  in  such  a  way 
that  sometimes  at  the  remembrance  of  holy 
women,  or  in  reading  a  story  in  Holy  Scrip- 
ture a  stimulus  of  dangerous  excitement  is 
aroused.  For  which  reason  our  Elders  used 
deliberately  to  omit  passages  of  this  kind  when 
any  of  the  juniors  were  present.  However  for 
those  who  are  perfect  and  established  in  the 
feelings  of  chastity  there  can  be  no  lack  of 
proofs  by  which  they  may  examine  themselves, 
and  establish  their  perfect  uprightness  of 
heart  by  the  uncorrupted  judgment  of  their 
own  conscience.  There  will  then  be  for  the 
man  who  is  thoroughly  established  a  similar 
test  even  in  regard  to  this  passion,  so  that 
one  who  is  sure  that  he  has  altogether  exter- 
minated the  roots  of  this  evil  may  for  the  sake 
of  ascertaining  his  chastity,  call  up  some 
picture  as  with  a  lascivious  mind.  But  it  is 
by  no  means  proper  for  such  a  test  to  be  at- 
tempted by  those  who  are  still  weak  (for  to 
them  it  will  be  dangerous  rather  than  use- 
ful), ut  conjunctionem  femineam  et  palpatio- 
nem  quodammodo  teneram  atque  mollissimam 
corde  pertractent.  Cum  ergo  perfecta  quis  vir- 
tute  fundatus  ad  illecebram  blandissimorum 
tactuum,  quos  cogitando  confinxerit,  nullum 
mentis  assensum,  nullam  commotionem  carnis 
in  se  deprehenderit  exagitatam,  he  will  have 
a  very  sure  proof  of  his  purity,  so  that  train- 
ing himself  to  this  steadfast  purity  he  will  not 
only  possess  the  blessing  of  chastity  and  free- 
dom from  defilement  in  his  heart,  but  even  if 
he  is  obliged  to  touch  the  body  of  a  woman, 
he  will  be  horrified  at  it. 

With  this  Abbot  John  brought  his  Confer- 
ence to  an  end,  as  he  saw  that  it  was  just  time 
for  the  refreshment  of  the  ninth  hour. 


XX. 

CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   PINUFIUS. 

ON  THE   END    OF  PENITENCE  AND    THE    MARKS   OF   SATISFACTION. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Of  the  humility  of  Abbot  Pinufius,  and  of  his  hiding-place. 

Now  that  I  am  going  to  relate  the  precepts 
of  that  excellent  and  remarkable  man,  Abbot 
Pinufius,  on  the  end  of  penitence,  I  fancy  that 
I  can  dispose  of  a  very  large  part  of  my  mate- 
rial, if  out  of  consideration  lest  I  weary  my 


reader,  I  here  pass  over  in  silence  the  praise 
of  his  humility,  which  I  touched  on  in  a  brief 
discourse  in  the  fourth  book  of  the  Institutes,1 
which  was  entitled  "  Of  the  rules  to  be  ob- 
served by  renunciants,"  especially  as  many 
who  have  no  knowledge  of  that  work,  may 
happen  to  read  this,  and  then  all  the  authority. 

1  Cf.  Institutes  IV.  c.  xxx.,  xxxi.     Nothing  further  is  known  of 
Pinufius  than  what  we  gather  from  these  passages  of  Cassian. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    PINUFIUS. 


497 


of  the  utterances  will  be  weakened  if  there  is 
no  account  of  the  virtues  of  the  speaker.  For 
this  man  when  he  was  presiding  as  Abbot 
and  Presbyter  over  a  large  coenobium  not  far 
from  Panephysis,  a  city,  as  was  there  said,  of 
Egypt,  and  when  all  that  province  had  praised 
him  to  the  skies  for  his  virtues  and  miracles, 
so  that  he  already  seemed  to  himself  to  have 
received  the  reward  of  his  labours  in  the  re- 
muneration of  the  praise  of  men,  as  he  was 
afraid  lest  the  emptiness  of  popular  favour, 
which  he  especially  disliked,  might  interfere 
with  the  fruits  of  an  eternal  reward,  he  secretly 
fled  from  his  monastery  and  made  his  way  to 
the  furthest  recesses  of  the  monks  of  Tabennae,1 
where  he  chose  not  the  solitude  of  the  desert, 
not  that  freedom  from  care  of  which  the  life 
of  one  alone  affords,  which  even  those  who 
are  imperfect  and  who  cannot  endure  the  effort 
which  obedience  requires  in  the  coenobium, 
sometimes  seek  after  with  proud  presumption, 
but  he  chose  to  submit  himself  to  a  most 
famous  monastery.  Where,  however,  that  he 
might  not  be  betrayed  by  any  signs  of  his 
dress,  he  clothed  himself  in  a  secular  garb, 
and  lay  before  the  doors  with  tears,  as  is  the 
custom  there,  for  many  days,  and  clinging  to 
the  knees  of  all  after  being  daily  repulsed  by 
those  who  to  test  his  purpose  said  that  now  in 
extreme  old  age  he  was  seeking  this  holy  life 
not  in  sincerity,  but  driven  by  the  lack  of 
food,  at  last  he  obtained  admission,  and  there 
he  was  told  off  to  help  a  young  brother  who 
had  been  given  the  charge  of  a  garden,  and 
when  he  not  only  fulfilled  with  such  marvel- 
lous and  holy  humility  everything  which  his 
chief  ordered  him  or  which  the  care  of  the 
work  entrusted  to  him  demanded,  but  also 
performed  in  stealthy  labour  by  night  certain 
necessary  offices  which  were  avoided  by  the 
rest  out  of  disgust  for  them,  so  that  when 
morning  dawned,  all  the  congregation  was 
delighted  at  such  useful  works  but  knew  not 
their  author;  and  when  he  had  passed  nearly 
three  years  there  rejoicing  in  the  labours, 
which  he  had  desired,  but  to  which  he  was  so 
unfairly  subjected,  it  happened  that  a  certain 
brother  known  to  him  came  there  from  the 
same  parts  of  Egypt  from  which  he  himself 
had  come.  And  this  man  for  a  time  hesitated 
because  the  meanness  of  his  clothes  and  of 
his  office  prevented  him  from  readily  recog- 
nizing him  at  once,  but  after  looking  very 
closely  at  him,  fell  at  his  feet,  and  first  as- 
tonished all  the  brethren,  and  afterwards, 
when  he  betrayed  his  name,  which  the  fame  of 
his  special  sanctity  had  made  known  to  them 
also,   he   smote   them  with    sorrow  and  com- 

1  On  Tabenna  or  Tabenna  see  the  note  on  the  Institutes  IV.  i. 


punction  because  they  had  told  off  a  man  of 
his  virtues  and  a  priest  to  such  mean  offices. 
But  he,  shedding  copious  tears,  and  charging 
the  serious  accident  of  his  betrayal  to  the 
envy  of  the  devil,  was  brought  in  honourable 
custody  by  his  brethren  surrounding  him  to 
the  monastery;  and  after  that  he  had  stayed 
there  for  a  short  time,  he  was  once  more 
troubled  by  the  respect  shown  to  his  dignity 
and  rank,  and  stealthily  embarked  on  board 
ship  and  sailed  to  the  Palestinian  province  of 
Syria,  where  he  was  received  as  a  beginner 
and  a  novice  in  the  house  of  that  monastery 
in  which  we  were  living,  and  was  charged  by 
the  Abbot  to  stop  in  our  cell.  But  not  even 
there  could  his  virtues  and  merits  long  remain 
secret.  For  he  was  discovered  and  betrayed 
in  the  same  way,  and  brought  back  to  his 
own  monastery  with  the  utmost  honour  and 
respect. 

CHAPTER   II. 

Of  our  coming  to  him. 

When  then  after  no  long  time  a  desire  for 
holy  instruction  had  urged  us  also  to  visit 
Egypt,  we  sought  him  out  with  the  utmost 
eagerness  and  devotion  and  were  welcomed  by 
him  with  such  kindness  and  courtesy  that  he 
actually  honoured  us,  as  former  sharers  of  the 
same  cell  with  him,  with  a  lodging  in  his  own 
cell  which  he  had  built  in  the  furthest  corner  of 
his  garden.  And  there  when  in  the  presence 
of  all  the  brethren  at  service  he  had  delivered 
to  one  of  the  brethren  who  was  submitting  to 
the  rule  of  the  monastery  sufficiently  difficult 
and  elevated  precepts,  which  as  we  said,  I 
summarized  as  briefly  as  I  could  in  the  fourth 
book  of  the  Institutes,  the  heights  of  a  true 
renunciation  seemed  to  us  so  unattainable  and 
so  marvellous  that  we  did  not  think  that  such 
humble  folks  as  we  could  ever  scale  them. 
And  therefore,  cast  down  in  despair,  and  not 
concealing  in  our  looks  the  inner  bitterness 
of  our  thoughts,  we  came  back  to  the  blessed 
old  man  with  a  tolerably  anxious  heart:  and 
when  he  at  once  asked  the  reason  why  we 
were  so  sad,  Abbot  Germanus  groaned  deeply 
and  replied  as  follows. 


CHAPTER   III. 

A  question  on  the  end  of  penitence  and  the  marks  of 
satisfaction. 

As  your  grand  and  splendid  exposition  of 
a  doctrine  new  to  us  has  opened  out  to  us  a 
more  difficult  road  to  the  most  glorious  re- 


CASSIAN'S   CONFERENCES. 


nunciation,  and  has  removed  the  scales  from 
our  eyes,  and  shown  to  us  its  summit  raised 
in  the  heavens,  so  are  we  proportionately  cast 
down  with  a  greater  weight  of  despair.  Since, 
when  we  measure  its  vastness  against  our 
puny  strength,  and  compare  the  excessively 
humble  character  of  our  ignorance  with  the 
boundless  height  of  virtue  shown  to  us,  we 
feel  that  we  are  so  small  that  we  not  only 
cannot  attain  to  it,  but  that  we  are  sure  to 
fall  short  in  what  we  have.  For  as  we  are 
weighed  down  by  the  burden  of  excessive 
despair,  we  fall  away  somehow  from  the  low- 
est depths  to  still  lower  ones.  Accordingly 
there  is  one  and  only  one  support  which  can 
provide  a  cure  for  our  wounds;  viz.,  for  us 
to  learn  something  of  the  end  of  penitence 
and  especially  of  the  marks  of  satisfaction, 
that  we  may  feel  sure  of  the  forgiveness  of 
past  sins,  and  so  be  spurred  on  to  scale  the 
heights  of  the  perfection  described  above. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

The  answer  on  the  humility  shown  by  our  request. 

Pinufius:  I  am  indeed  delighted  at  the 
very  plentiful  fruits  of  your  humility,  which 
indeed  I  saw  with  no  indifferent  concern, 
when  I  was  formerly  received  in  the  habita- 
tion of  that  cell  of  yours,  and  I  am  very  glad 
that  you  welcome  with  such  respect  the  charge 
given  by  us,  the  least  of  all  Christians,  and  the 
words  that  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  saying 
so  that  if  I  am  not  mistaken  you  carry  them 
out  as  soon  as  ever  they  are  spoken  by  us; 
and  though,  as  I  remember,  the  importance 
of  the  words  scarcely  deserves  the  efforts  you 
bestow  on  them,  yet  you  so  conceal  the  merits 
of  your  virtue,  as  if  no  breath  ever  reached 
you  of  those  things  which  you  are  daily  prac- 
tising. But  because  this  fact  is  worthy  of 
the  highest  praise;  viz.,  that  you  declare  that 
those  institutes  of  the  saints  are  still  unknown 
to  you  as  if  you  were  still  beginners  we  will, 
as  briefly  as  possible,  summarize  what  you 
so  eagerly  ask  of  us.  For  we  must  even  be- 
yond our  powers  and  ability,  obey  the  com- 
mands of  such  old  friends  as  you.  And  so 
on  the  value  and  appeasing  power  of  peni- 
tence many  have  published  a  great  deal,  not 
only  in  words  but  also  in  writing,  showing 
how  useful  it  is,  how  strong,  and  full  of  grace, 
so  that  when  God  is  offended  by  our  past  sins, 
and  on  the  point  of  inflicting  a  most  just 
punishment  for  such  offences,  it  somehow,  if 
it  is  not  wrong  to  say  so,  stops  Him,  and,  if 
I  may  so  say,  stays  the  right  hand  of  the 
Avenger  even  against  His  will.     But  I  have 


no  doubt  that  all  this  is  well  known  to  you, 
either  from  your  natural  wisdom,  or  from  your 
unwearied  study  of  Holy  Scripture,  so  that 
from  this  the  first  shoots,  so  to  speak,  of  your 
conversion  sprang  up.  Finally,  you  are  an- 
xious not  about  the  character  of  penitence  but 
about  its  end,  and  the  marks  of  satisfaction, 
and  so  by  a  very  shrewd  question  ask  what 
has  been  left  out  by  others. 


CHAPTER   V. 

Of  the  method  of  penitence  and  the  proof  of  pardon. 

Wherefore  in  order  to  satisfy  as  briefly 
and  shortly  as  possible,  your  desire  and  ques- 
tion, the  full  and  perfect  description  of  peni- 
tence is,  never  again  to  yield  to  those  sins  for 
which  we  do  penance,  or  for  which  our  con- 
science is  pricked.  But  the  proof  of  satis- 
faction and  pardon  is  for  us  to  have  expelled 
the  love  of  them  from  our  hearts.  For  each 
one  may  be  sure  that  he  is  not  yet  free  from 
his  former  sins  as  long  as  any  image  of  those 
sins  which  he  has  committed  or  of  others  like 
them  dances  before  his  eyes,  and  I  will  not  say 
a  delight  in  —  but  the  recollection  of  —  them 
haunts  his  inmost  soul  while  he  is  devoting 
himself  to  satisfaction  for  them  and  to  tears. 
And  so  one  who  is  on  the  watch  to  make 
satisfaction  may  then  feel  sure  that  he  is  free 
from  his  sins  and  that  he  has  obtained  pardon 
for  past  faults,  when  he  never  feels  that  his 
heart  is  stirred  by  the  allurements  and  imagi- 
nations of  these  same  sins.  Wherefore  the 
truest  test  of  penitence  and  witness  of  pardon 
is  found  in  our  own  conscience,  which  even 
before  the  day  of  judgment  and  of  knowledge, 
while  we  are  still  in  the  flesh,  discloses  our 
acquittal  from  guilt,  and  reveals  the  end  of 
satisfaction  and  the  grace  of  forgiveness. 
And  that  what  has  been  said  may  be  more 
significantly  expressed,  then  only  should  we 
believe  that  the  stains  of  past  sins  are  forgiven 
us,  when  the  desires  for  present  delights  as 
well  as  the  passions  have  been  expelled  from 
our  heart. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A  question  whether  our  sins  ought  to  be  remembered  out  of 
contrition  of  heart. 

Germanus:  And  whence  can  there  be 
aroused  in  us  this  holy  and  salutary  contri- 
tion from  humiliation,  which  is  described  as 
follows  in  the  person  of  the  penitent:  "I 
have  acknowledged  my  sin,  and  mine  unright- 
eousness  have   I    not    hid.     I    said:    I   will 


CONFERENCE   OF    ABBOT    PINUFIUS. 


499 


acknowledge  against  myself  mine  unrighteous- 
ness to  the  Lord,"  so  that  we  may  be  able 
effectually  to  say  also  what  follows:  "And 
Thou  forgavest  the  iniquity  of  my  heart ; "  x 
or  how,  when  we  kneel  in  prayer  shall  we  be 
able  to  stir  ourselves  up  to  tears  of  confession, 
by  which  we  may  be  able  to  obtain  pardon 
for  our  offences,  according  to  these  words: 
"  Every  night  will  I  wash  my  bed :  I  will  water 
my  couch  with  tears ; "  2  if  we  expel  from  our 
hearts  all  recollection  of  our  faults,  though 
on  the  contrary  we  are  bidden  carefully  to 
preserve  the  remembrance  of  them,  as  the 
Lord  says:  "And  thine  iniquities  I  will  not 
remember:  but  do  thou  recollect  them?"3 
Wherefore  not  only  when  I  am  at  work,  but 
also  when  I  am  at  prayer  I  try  of  set  purpose 
to  recall  to  my  mind  the  recollection  of  my 
sins,  that  I  may  be  more  effectually  inclined 
to  true  humility  and  contrition  of  heart,  and 
venture  to  say  with  the  prophet :  "  Look  upon 
my  humility  and  my  labour:  and  forgive  me 
all  my  sins."  4 

CHAPTER   VII. 

The  answer  showing  how  far  we  ought  to  preserve  the 
recollection  of  previous  actions. 

Pinufius:  Your  question,  as  has  been  al- 
ready said  above,  was  not  raised  with  regard 
to  the  character  of  penitence,  but  with  regard 
to  its  end,  and  the  marks  of  satisfaction :  to 
which,  as  I  think,  a  fair  and  pertinent  reply 
has  bean  given.  But  what  you  have  said  as 
to  the  remembrance  of  sins  is  sufficiently 
useful  and  needful  to  men  who  are  still 
doing  penance,  that  they  may  with  constant 
smiting  of  the  breast  say:  "  For  I  acknowledge 
my  wickedness:  and  my  sin  is  ever  before 
me;"  and  this  too:  "And  I  will  think  for 
my  sin."5  While  then  we  do  penance,  and 
are  still  grieved  by  the  recollection  of  faulty 
actions,  the  shower  of  tears  which  is  caused 
by  the  confession  of  our  faults  is  sure  to 
quench  the  fire  of  our  conscience.  But  when, 
while  a  man  is  still  in  this  state  of  humility 
of  heart  and  contrition  of  spirit  and  continu- 
ing to  labour  and  to  weep,  the  remembrance 
of  these  things  fades  away,  and  the  thorns 
of  conscience  are  by  God's  grace  extracted 
from  his  inmost  heart,  then  it  is  clear  that  he 
has  attained  to  the  end  of  satisfaction  and  the 
reward  of  pardon,  and  that  he  is  purged  from 
the  stain  of  the  sins  he  has  committed.  To 
which  state  of  forgetfulness  we  can  only  attain 
by  the    obliteration    of    our  former  sins  and 

1  Ps.  xxxi.  (xxxii.)  5,  6.       i  Ps.  xxiv.  (xxv.)  iS. 

2  Ps.  vi.  7.  6  Ps.  1.  (li.)  5;  xxxvii.  (xxxviii.)  19. 
s  Is.  xliii.  25,  26. 


likings,  and  by  perfect  and  complete  purity 
of  heart.  And  this  most  certainly  will  not 
be  attained  by  any  of  those  who  from  sloth 
or  carelessness  have  failed  to  purge  out  their 
faults,  but  only  by  one  who  by  constantly 
continuing  to  groan  and  sigh  sorrowfully  has 
removed  every  spot  of  his  former  stains,  and 
by  the  goodness  of  his  heart  and  his  labour 
has  proclaimed  to  the  Lord:  "  I  have  acknow- 
ledged my  sin,  and  mine  unrighteousness  have 
I  not  hid;"  and:  "My  tears  have  been  my 
meat  day  and  night;"  so  that  in  the  end  it 
may  be  vouchsafed  to  him  to  hear  these  words  : 
"  Let  thy  voice  cease  from  weeping,  and  thine 
eyes  from  tears :  for  there  is  a  reward  for  thy 
labour,  saith  the  Lord;"0  and  these  words 
also  may  be  uttered  of  him  by  the  voice  of  the 
Lord:  "I  have  blotted  out  as  a  cloud  thine 
iniquities,  and  as  a  mist  thy  sins :  "  and  again  : 
"  I  even  I  am  He  that  blotteth  out  thine  in- 
iquities for  mine  own  sake,  and  thine  offences 
I  will  no  longer  remember;  "  7  and  so,  when  he 
is  freed  from  the  "cords  of  his  sins,"  by 
which  "everyone  is  bound,"  b  he  will  with  all 
thanksgiving  sing  to  the  Lord :  "  Thou  hast 
broken  my  chains :  I  will  offer  to  thee  the 
sacrifice  of  praise."  9 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

Of  the  various  fruits  of  penitence. 

For  after  that  grace  of  baptism  which  is 
common  to  all,  and  that  most  precious  gift  of 
martyrdom  which  is  gained  by  being  washed 
in  blood,  there  are  many  fruits  of  penitence 
by  which  we  can  succeed  in  expiating  our  sins. 
For  eternal  salvation  is  not  only  promised  to 
the  bare  fact  of  penitence,  of  which  the  blessed 
Apostle  Peter  says:  ".Repent  and  be  con- 
verted that  your  sins  maybe  forgiven;"  and 
John  the  Baptist  and  the  Lord  Himself: 
"  Repent  ye,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand :  "  10  but  also  by  the  affection  of  love  is 
the  weight  of  our  sins  overwhelmed:  for 
"charity  covers  a  multitude  of  sins."11  In 
the  same  way  also  by  the  fruits  of  almsgiving 
a  remedy  is  provided  for  our  wounds,  because 
"As  water  extinguishes  fire,  so  does  almsgiv- 
ing extinguish  sin."  12  So  also  by  the  shed- 
ding of  tears  is  gained  the  washing  away  of 
offences,  for  "  Every  night  I  will  wash  my 
bed:  I  will  water  my  couch  with  tears." 
Finally  to  show  that  they  are  not  shed  in 
vain,  he  adds:     "Depart  from  me  all  ye  that 

c  Ps.  xxxi.  (xxxii.)  5  ;  xli.  'xlii.)  4;   Jer.  xxxi.  16. 

7  Is.  xliv.  22  ;  xliii.  25.  10  Acts  iii.  19  ;   S.  Matt.  iii.  2. 

8  Prov.  v.  22.  u   1  Pet.  iv.  S. 

9  Ps.  cxv.  16,  17.  12  Ecclus.  iii.  33. 


5oo 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


work  iniquity,  for  the  Lord  hath  heard  the 
voice  of  my  weeping."  a  Moreover  by  means 
of  confession  of  sins,  their  absolution  is 
granted:  for  "I  said:  I  will  confess  against 
myself  my  sin  to  the  Lord :  and  Thou  forgav- 
est  the  iniquity  of  my  heart;"  and  again: 
"Declare  thine  iniquities  first,  that  thou 
mayest  be  justified."  '2  By  afflicting  the  heart 
and  body  also  is  forgiveness  of  sins  com- 
mitted in  like  manner  obtained,  for  he  says: 
"Look  on  my  humility  and  my  labour,  and 
forgive  me  all  my  sins;  "  and  more  especially 
by  amendment  of  life  :  "  Take  away,"  he  says, 
"the  evil  of  your  thoughts  from  mine  eyes. 
Cease  to  do  evil,  learn  to  do  well.  Seek 
judgment,  relieve  the  oppressed:  judge  the 
orphan,  defend  the  widow.  And  come,  reason 
with  Me,  saith  the  Lord:  and  though  your 
sins  were  as  scarlet,  yet  shall  they  be  as  white 
as  snow,  though  they  were  red  as  crimson,  they 
shall  be  as  white  as  wool."3  Sometimes  too 
the  pardon  of  our  sins  is  obtained  by  the  in- 
tercession of  the  saints,  for  "  if  a  man  knows 
his  brother  to  sin  a  sin  not  unto  death,  he 
asks,  and  He  will  give  to  him  his  life,  for  him 
that  sinneth  not  unto  death;  "  and  again:  "  Is 
any  sick  among  you  ?  Let  him  send  for  the 
Elders  of  the  Church  and  they  shall  pray  over 
him,  anointing  him  with  oil  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord.  And  the  prayer  of  faith  shall  save 
the  sick,  and  the  Lord  will  raise  him  up,  and 
if  he  be  in  sins,  they  shall  be  forgiven  him."  4 
Sometimes  too  by  the  virtue  of  compassion 
and  faith  the  stains  of  sin  are  removed,  ac- 
cording to  this  passage:  "By  compassion  and 
faith  sins  are  purged  away."5  And  often 
by  the  conversion  and  salvation  of  those  who 
are  saved  by  our  warnings  and  preaching: 
"  For  he  who  converts  a  sinner  from  the  error 
of  his  way,  shall  save  his  soul  from  death, 
and  cover  a  multitude  of  sins."  6  Moreover 
by  pardon  and  forgiveness  on  our  part  we 
obtain  pardon  of  our  sins:  "For  if  ye  forgive 
men  their  offences,  your  heavenly  Father  will 
also  forgive  you  your  sins."7  You  see  then 
what  great  means  of  obtaining  mercy  the  com- 
passion of  our  Saviour  has  laid  open  to  us,  so 
that  no  one  when  longing  for  salvation  need 
be  crushed  by  despair,  as  he  sees  himself 
called  to  life  by  so  many  remedies.  For  if 
you  plead  that  owing  to  weakness  of  the  flesh 
you  cannot  get  rid  of  your  sins  by  fasting,  and 
you  cannot  say :  "  My  knees  are  weak  from 
fasting,  and  my  flesh  is  changed  for  oil ;  for  I 
have  eaten  ashes  for  my  bread,  and  mingled 
my  drink  with  weeping,"  8  then  atone  for  them 


1  Ps.  vi.  7,  9.  -  Ps.  xxxi.  (xxxii.)  5;   Is.  xliii.  26. 

3  Ps.  xxiv.  (xxv.)  18;   Is.  i.  16-1S.  °  S.  James  v.  20. 

4  1  John  v.  16;  S.  James  v.  14,  15-  7  S.  Matt.  vi.  14. 

B  Prov.  xv.  27.  '8  Ps.  cviii.  (cix.)  24;  ci.  (cii.)  10. 


by  profuse  almsgiving.  If  you  have  nothing 
that  you  can  give  to  the  needy  (although  the 
claims  of  want  and  poverty  exclude  none  from 
this  office,  since  the  two  mites  of  the  widow 
are  ranked  higher  than  the  splendid  gifts  of 
the  rich,  and  the  Lord  promises  that  He  will 
give  a  reward  for  a  cup  of  cold  water),  at  least 
you  can  purge  them  away  by  amendment  of 
life.  But  it  you  cannot  secure  perfection  in 
goodness  by  the  eradication  of  all  your  faults, 
you  can  show  a  pious  anxiety  for  the  good  and 
salvation  of  another.  But  if  you  complain 
that  you  are  not  equal  to  this  service,  you  can 
cover  your  sins  by  the  affection  of  love.  And 
if  in  this  also  some  sluggishness  of  mind 
makes  you  weak,  at  least  you  should  submis- 
sively with  a  feeling  of  humility  entreat  for 
remedies  for  your  wounds  by  the  prayers  and 
intercession  of  the  saints.  Finally  who  is 
there  who  cannot  humbly  say :  "  I  have  ac- 
knowledged my  sin :  and  mine  unrighteous- 
ness have  I  not  hid;"  so  that  by  this 
confession  he  maybe  able  also  to  add  this: 
"And  Thou  forgavest  the  iniquity  of  my 
heart."9  But  if  shame  holds  you  back,  and 
you  blush  to  reveal  them  before  men,  you 
should  not  cease  to  confess  them  with  constant 
supplication  to  Him  from  Whom  they  cannot 
be  hid,  and  to  say  to  Him:  "T  acknowledge 
mine  iniquity,  and  my  sin  is  ever  before 
me.  Against  Thee  only  have  I  sinned,  and 
have  done  evil  before  Thee; "  10  as  He  is  wont 
to  heal  them  without  any  publication  which 
brings  shame,  and  to  forgive  sins  without  any 
reproaching.  And  further  besides  that  ready 
and  sure  aid  the  Divine  condescension  has 
afforded  us  another  also  that  is  still  easier, 
and  has  entrusted  the  possession  of  the  rem- 
edy to  our  own  will,  so  that  we  can  infer 
from  our  own  feelings  the  forgiveness  of  our 
offences,  when  we  say  to  Him :  "  Forgive  us  our 
debts  as  we  also  forgive  our  debtors."  "  Who- 
ever then  desires  to  obtain  forgiveness  of  his 
sins,  should  study  to  fit  himself  for  it  by  these 
means.  Let  not  the  stubbornness  of  an  obdu- 
rate heart  turn  away  any  from  the  saving 
remedy  and  the  fount  of  so  much  goodness, 
because  even  if  we  have  done  all  these  things, 
they  will  not  be  able  to  expiate  our  offences, 
unless  they  are  blotted  out  by  the  goodness 
and  mercy  of  the  Lord,  who  when  He  sees 
the  service  of  pious  efforts  offered  by  us  with 
a  humble  heart,  supports  our  small  and  puny 
efforts  with  the  utmost  bounty,  and  says:  "I 
even  I  am  He  that  blotteth  out  thine  iniqui- 
ties for  Mine  own  sake,  and  I  will  remember 
thy  sins  no  more."  12    Whoever  then  is  aiming 


0  Ps.  xxxi.  (xxxii.)  5. 
>°  Ps.  1.  (li.)  5,  6. 


"   S.  Matt.  vi.  12. 
12  Is.  xliii.  25. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    PINUFIUS. 


50i 


at  this  condition,  which  we  have  mentioned, 
will  seek  the  grace  of  satisfaction  by  daily 
fasting  and  mortification  of  heart  and  body, 
for,  as  it  is  written,  "'Without  shedding,  of 
blood  there  is  no  remission ;  " 1  and  this  not 
without  good  reason.  For  "flesh  and  blood 
cannot  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God. "  2  And 
therefore  one  who  would  withhold  "  the  sword 
of  the  spirit  which  is  the  word  of  God  "  3  from 
this  shedding  of  blood  certainly  comes  under 
the  lash  of  that  curse  of  Jeremiah's;  for 
"Cursed,"  says  he,  "is  he  who  withholds  his 
sword  from  blood."4  For  this  is  the  sword, 
which  for  our  good  sheds  that  bad  blood 
whereby  the  material  of  our  sins  lives;  and 
cuts  off  and  pares  away  everything  carnal  and 
earthly  which  it  finds  to  have  grown  up  in  the 
members  of  our  soul ;  and  makes  men  die  to 
sin  and  live  to  God,  and  flourish  with  spiri- 
tual virtues.  And  so  he  will  begin  to  weep  no 
more  at  the  recollection  of  former  sins,  but 
at  the  hope  of  what  is  to  come,  and,  thinking 
less  of  past  evils  than  of  good  things  to  come, 
will  shed  tears  not  from  sorrow  at  his  sins, 
but  from  delight  in  that  eternal  joy,  and  "for- 
getting those  things  which  are  behind,"  i.e., 
carnal  sins,  will  press  on  "to  those  before,"5 
i.e.,  to  spiritual  gifts  and  virtues. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

How  valuable  to  the  perfect  is  the  forgetfulness  of  sin. 

But  with  regard  to  this  that  you  said  a  little 
way  back ;  viz. ,  that  you  of  set  purpose  go  over 
the  recollections  of  past  sins,  this  ought  cer- 
tainly not  to  be  done,  nay,  if  it  forcibly  sur- 
prises you,  it  must  be  at  once  expelled.  For 
it  greatly  hinders  the  soul  from  the  contem- 
plation of  purity,  and  especially  in  the  case  of 
one  who  is  living  in  solitude,  as  it  entangles 
him  in  the  stains  of  this  world  and  swamps 
him  in  foul  sins.  For  while  you  are  recalling 
those  things  which  you  did  through  ignorance 
or  wantonness  in  accordance  with  the  prince 
of  this  world,  though  I  grant  you  that  while 
you  are  engaged  in  these  thoughts  no  delight 
in  them  steals  in,  yet  at  least  the  mere  taint 
of  the  ancient  filthiness  is  sure  to  corrupt  your 
soul  with  its  foul  stink,  and  to  shut  out  the 
spiritual  fragrance  of  goodness,  i.e.,  the  odour 
of  a  sweet  savour.  When  then  the  recollec- 
tion of.  past  sins  comes  over  your  mind,  you 
must  recoil  from  it  just  as  an  honest  and  up- 
right man  runs  away  if  he  is  sought  out  in 
public    by  an   immodest    and  wanton  woman 


1  Heb.  ix.  22. 

2  1  Cor.  xv.  50. 


3  Eph.  vi.  17. 

4  Jer.  xlviii.  10. 


either  by  words  or  by  embraces.  And  cer- 
tainly unless  he  at  once  withdraws  himself 
from  contact  with  her,  and  if  he  allows  him- 
self to  linger  the  very  least  in  impure  talk, 
even  if  he  refuses  his  consent  to  the  shameful 
pleasures,  yet  he  cannot  avoid  the  brand  of 
infamy  and  scorn  in  the  judgment  of  all  the 
passers  by.  So  then  we  also,  if  by  noxious 
recollections  we  are  led  to  thoughts  of  this 
kind,  ought  at  once  to  desist  from  dwelling 
upon  them  and  to  fulfil  what  we  are  com- 
manded by  Solomon:  "But  go  forth,"  says 
he,  "do  not  linger  in  her  place,  nor  fix  thine 
eye  on  her ;  "  6  lest  if  the  angels  see  us  taken 
up  with  unclean  and  foul  thoughts,  they  may 
not  be  able  to  say  to  us  in  passing  by:  "The 
blessing  of  the  Lord  be  upon  you."  7  For  it 
is  impossible  for  the  soul  to  continue  in  good 
thoughts,  when  the  main  part  of  the  heart  is 
taken  up  with  foul  and  earthly  considerations. 
For  this  saying  of  Solomon's  is  true:  "When 
thine  eyes  look  on  a  strange  woman,  then 
shall  thy  mouth  speak  wickedly,  and  thou 
shalt  lie  as  it  were  in  the  midst  of  the  sea, 
and  as  a  pilot  in  a  great  storm.  But  thou 
shalt  say:  They  have  beaten  me,  but  I  felt  no 
pain;  and  they  mocked  me,  but  1  felt  not."  8 
So  then  we  should  forsake  not  only  all  foul 
but  even  all  earthly  thoughts  and  ever  raise 
the  desires  of  our  soul  to  heavenly  things,  in 
accordance  with  this  saying  of  our  Saviour: 
"For  where  I  am,"  He  says,  "there  also  shall 
My  servant  be."9  For  it  often  happens  that 
when  anyone  out  of  pity  is  in  thought  going 
over  his  own  falls  or  those  of  other  faulty 
persons,  he  is  affected  by  the  delight  and 
assent  to  this  most  subtle  attack,  and  that 
which  was  undertaken  and  started  with  a  show 
of  goodness  ends  with  a  filthy  and  damaging 
termination,  for  "  there  are  ways  which  appear 
to  men  to  be  right,  but  the  ends  thereof  will 
come  to  the  depths  of  hell."  10 


CHAPTER   X. 

How  the  recollection  of  our  sins  should  be  avoided. 

Wherefore  we  must  endeavour  to  rouse 
ourselves  to  this  praiseworthy  contrition,  by 
aiming  at  virtue  and  by  the  desire  for  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  rather  than  by  dangerous 
recollections  of  sins,  for  a  man  is  sure  to  be 
suffocated  by  the  pestilential  smells  of  the 
sewer  as  long  as  he  chooses  to  stand  over  it 
or  to  stir  its  filth. 


c  Phil.  iii.  13.  °  Prov.  ix.  iS.  8  Prov.    xxiii.  33-35.      10  Prov.  xvi. 

7  Ps.  cxxviii.  (cxxix.)  S.    9  S.  John  xii.  26. 


502 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Of  the  marks  of  satisfaction,  and  the  removal  of  past  sins. 

But  we  know,  as  we  have  often  said,  that 
then  only  have  we  made  satisfaction  for  past 
sins,  when  the  very  motions  and  feelings, 
through  which  we  were  guilty  of  what  we 
have  to  sorrow  for,  have  been  eradicated  from 
our  hearts.  But  no  one  should  fancy  that  he 
can  secure  this,  unless  he  has  first  with  all  the 
fervour  of  his  spirit  cut  off  the  opportunities 
and  occasions,  owing  to  which  he  fell  into 
those  sins;  as  for  instance,  if  through  danger- 
ous familiarity  with  a  woman  he  has  fallen 
into  fornication  or  adultery,  he  must  take  the 
utmost  pains  to  avoid  even  looking  on  one; 
or  if  he  has  been  overcome  by  too  much  wine 
and  over-eating,  he  should  chastise  with  the 
utmost  severity  his  craving  for  immoderate 
food.  And  again  if  he  has  been  led  astray 
by  the  desire  for  and  love  of  money,  and  has 
fallen  into  perjury  or  theft  or  murder  or  blas- 
phemy, he  should  cut  off  the  occasion  for 
avarice,  which  has  allured  and  deceived  him. 
If  he  is  driven  by  the  passion  of  pride  into 
the  sin  of  anger,  he  should  with  all  the  virtue 
of  humility,  remove  the  incentive  to  arrogance. 
And  so,  in  order  that  each  single  sin  may 
be  destroyed,  the  occasion  and  opportunity  by 
which  or  for  which  it  was  committed  should 
be  first  got  rid  of.  For  by  this  curative  treat- 
ment we  can  certainly  attain  to  forgetfulness 
of  the  sins  we  have  committed. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

Wherein  we  must  do  penance  for  a  time  only ;  and  wherein  it 
can  have  no  end. 

But  that  description  of  the  forgetfulness 
spoken  of  only  has  to  do  with  capital  offences, 
which  are  also  condemned  by  the  mosaic  law, 
the  inclination  to  which  is  destroyed  and  put 
an  end  to  by  a  good  life,  and  so  also  the  pe- 
nance for  them  has  an  end.  But  for  those 
small  offences  in  which,  as  it  is  written,  "the 


righteous  falls  seven  times  and  will  rise 
again,"'1  penitence  will  never  cease.  For 
either  through  ignorance,  or  forgetfulness,  or 
thought,  or  word,  or  surprise,  or  necessity,  or 
weakness  of  the  flesh,  or  defilement  in  a 
dream,  we  often  fall  every  day  either  against 
our  will  or  voluntarily;  offences  for  which 
David  also  prays  the  Lord,  and  asks  for  puri- 
fication and  pardon,  and  says:  "Who  can 
understand  sins?  from  my  secret  ones  cleanse 
me ;  and  from  those  of  others  spare  Thy  ser- 
vant;" and  the  Apostle:  "For  the  good 
which  I  would  I  do  not,  and  the  evil  which  I 
would  not,  that  I  do."  For  which  also  the 
same  man  exclaims  with  a  sigh :  "  O  wretched 
man  that  I  am!  who  shall  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death?"2  For  we  slip  into 
these  so  easily  as  it  were  by  a  law  of  nature, 
that  however  carefully  and  guardedly  we  are 
on  the  lookout  against  them,  we  cannot  alto- 
gether avoid  them.  Since  it  was  of  these  that 
one  of  the  disciples,  whom  Jesus  loved,  de- 
clared and  laid  down  absolutely  saying:  "If 
we  say  that  we  have  no  sin  we  deceive  our- 
selves, and  His  word  is  not  in  us."  3  Further 
for  a  man  who  is  anxious  to  reach  the  heights 
of  perfection  it  will  not  greatly  help  him  to 
have  arrived  at  the  end  of  penitence,  i.e.,  to 
restrain  himself  from  unlawful  acts,  unless  he 
has  always  urged  himself  forward  in  unwearied 
course  to  those  virtues  whereby  we  come  to 
the  signs  of  satisfaction.  For  it  will  not  be 
enough  for  a  man  to  have  kept  himself  clear 
from  those  foul  stains  of  sins  which  the  Lord 
hates,  unless  he  has  also  secured  by  purity  of 
heart  and  perfect  Apostolical  love  that  sweet 
fragrance  of  virtue  in  which  the  Lord  delights. 
Thus  far  Abbot  Pinufius  discoursed  on  the 
marks  of  satisfaction  and  the  end  of  penitence. 
And  although  he  pressed  us  with  anxious  love 
to  decide  to  stay  in  his  ccenobium,  yet  when 
he  could  not  retain  us,  as  we  were  incited  by 
the  fame  of  the  desert  of  Scete,  he  sent  us  on 
our  way. 


1  Prov.  xxiv.  16.       -  Ps.  xviii.  (xix.) 
3  i  John  i.  8,  io. 


Rom.  vii.  19,  24. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT    THEONAS. 


503 


XXL 


THE   FIRST  CONFERENCE   OF  ABBOT  THEONAS. 

ON  THE  RELAXATION  DURING   THE  EIETY  DAYS} 


CHAPTER   I. 

How  Theonas  came  to  Abbot  John. 

Before  we  begin  to  set  forth  the  words  of 
this  Conference  held  with  that  excellent  man 
Abbot  Theonas,2 1  think  it  well  to  describe  in 
a  brief  discourse  the  origin  of  his  conversion, 
because  from  this  the  reader  will  be  able  to 
see  more  clearly  both  the  excellence  and  the 
grace  of  the  man.  He  then  while  still  very 
young  was  by  the  desire  and  command  of  his 
parents  joined  in  the  tie  of  marriage,  for  as 
with  pious  anxiety  they  were  careful  about  his 
chastity,  and  were  afraid  of  a  critical  fall  at  a 
dangerous  age,  they  thought  that  the  passions 
of  youth  might  be  anticipated  by  the  rem- 
edy of  a  lawful  marriage.  When  then  he  had 
lived  for  five  years  with  a  wife,  he  came  to 
Abbot  John,  who  was  then  for  his  marvellous 
sanctity  chosen  to  preside  over  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  alms.3  For  it  is  not  anyone 
who  likes  who  is  of  his  own  wish  or  ambition 
promoted  to  this  office,  but  only  he  whom  the 
congregation  of  all  the  Elders  considers  from 
the  advantage  of  his  age  and  the  witness  of 
his  faith  and  virtues  to  be  more  excellent 
than,  and  superior  to,  all  others.  To  this 
blessed  John  then  the  aforesaid  young  man 
had  come  in  the  eagerness  of  his  pious  de- 
votion, bringing  gifts  of  piety  among  other 
owners  who  were  eager  to  offer  tithes  and  first- 
fruits  of  their  substance  to  the  old  man  I 
mentioned,4  and  when  the  old  man  saw  them 
pouring  in  upon  him  with  many  gifts,  and 
was  anxious  to  make  some  recompense  in 
return  for  their  offerings,  he  began,  as  the 
Apostle  says,  to  sow  spiritual  things  to  them 

1  On  Quinquagesima  see  the  note  on  the  Institutes  II.  vi. 

2  Nothing  further  is  known  of  this  Theonas  than  what  Cassian 
here  tells  us  :  lie  is  clearly  a  different  person  from  the  one  mentioned 
by  Runnus,  Hist.  Mon.  c.  vi.     Cf.  Palladius,  Lausiac  History,  c.  1. 

3  Diaconia.     Cf.  the  note  on  XVIII.  vii. 

4  This  is  noteworthy  as  being  the  earliest  instance  on  record 
of  the  payment  of  tithes  to  a  monastery.  The  language  of  the  Con- 
ference, it  will  be  noted,  shows  that  they  were  not  regarded  as 
legally  due  or  in  any  way  compulsory,  but  as  a  free-will  offering  on 
the  part  of  the  faithful.'  Cf.  Bingham,  Antiquities,  Book  Vtl.  ciii. 
§  19;  and  the  Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiquities,  Vol.  ii.  p.  1964. 


whose   carnal   gifts    he   was   reaping.5     And 
finally  thus  began  his  word  of  exhortation. 


CHAPTER    II. 

The  exhortation  of  Abbot  John  to  Theonas  and  the  others 
who  had  come  together  with  him. 

I  am  indeed  delighted,  my  children,  with 
the  duteous  liberality  of  your  gifts;  and  your 
devout  offering,  the  disposal  of  which  is  en- 
trusted to  me,  I  gratefully  accept,  because  you 
are  offering  your  firstfruits  and  tithes  for  the 
good  and  use  of  the  needy,  as  a  sacrifice  ~to 
the  Lord,  of  a  sweet  smelling  savour,  in  the 
belief  that  by  the  offering  of  them,  the  abun- 
dance of  your  fruits  and  all  your  substance, 
from  which  you  have  taken  away  these  for 
the  Lord,  will  be  richly  blessed,  and  that  you 
yourselves  will  according  to  the  faith  of  His 
command  be  endowed  even  in  this  world  with 
manifold  richness  in  all  good  things:  "Ho- 
nour the  Lord  from  thy  righteous  labours,  and 
offer  to  Him  of  the  fruits  of  thy  righteous- 
ness; that  thy  garners  may  be  full  of  abun- 
dance of  wheat,  and  thy  vats  may  overflow 
with  wine."  6  And  as  you  are  faithfully  car- 
rying out  this  service,  you  may  know  that  you 
have  fulfilled  the  righteousness  of  the  old  law, 
under  which  those  who  then  lived  if  they 
transgressed  it  inevitably  incurred  guilt,  while 
if  they  fulfilled  it  they  could  not  attain  to  a 
pitch  of  perfection. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Of  the  offering  of  tithes  and  firstfruits. 

For  indeed  by  the  Lord's  command  tithes 
were  consecrated  to  the  service  of  the  Levites, 
but  oblations  and  firstfruits  for  the  priests.7 
But  this  was  the  law  of  the  firstfruits;  viz., 


6  Cf.  1  Cor.  ix. 
s  Prov.  iii.  9,  i< 


7  Cf.  Numb,  xviii.  26 ;  v.  9,  10. 


■5°4 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


that  the  fiftieth  part  of  fruits  or  animals  should 
be  given  for  the  service  of  the  temple  and  the 
priests:  and  this  proportion  some  who  were 
faithlessly  indifferent  diminished,  while  those 
who  were,  very  religious  increased  it,  so  that 
the  one  gave  only  the  sixtieth  part,  and  the 
other  gave  the  fortieth  part  of  their  fruits. 
For  the  righteous,  for  whom  the  law  is  not 
enacted,  are  thus  shown  to  be  not  under  the 
law,  as  they  try  not  only  to  fulfil  but  even  to 
exceed  the  righteousness  of  the  law,  and  their 
devotion  is  greater  than  the  legal  require- 
ment, as  it  goes  beyond  the  observance  of 
precepts  and  adds  to  what  is  due  of  its  own 
free  will. 

CHAPTER    IV. 

How  Abraham,  David,  and  other  saints  went  beyond  the 
requirement  of  the  law. 

For  so  we  read  that  Abraham  went  beyond 
the  requirement  of  the  law  which  was  after- 
wards to  be  given,  when  after  his  victory  over 
the  four  kings,  he  would  not  touch  any  of  the 
spoils  of  Sodom,  which  were  fairly  due  to  him 
as  the  conqueror,  and  which  indeed  the  king 
himself,  whose  spoils  he  had  rescued,  offered 
him ;  and  with  an  oath  by  the  Divine  name  he 
exclaimed :  "  I  lift  up  my  hand  to  the  Lord 
Most  High,  who  made  heaven  and  earth,  that 
I  will  not  take  from  a  thread  to  a  shoe's 
latchet  of  all  that  is  thine."1  So  we  know 
that  David  went  beyond  the  requirement  of 
the  law,  as,  though  Moses  commanded  that 
vengeance  should  be  taken  on  enemies,2  he 
not  only  did  not  do  this,  but  actually  em- 
braced his  persecutors  with  love,  and  piously 
entreated  the  Lord  for  them,  and  wept  bitterly 
and  avenged  them  when  they  were  slain.  So 
we  are  sure  that  Elijah  and  Jeremiah  were  not 
under  the  law,  as  though  they  might  without 
blame  have  taken  advantage  of  lawful  matri- 
mony, yet  they  preferred  to  remain  virgins. 
So  we » read  that  Elisha  and  others  of  the 
same  mode  of  life  went  beyond  the  commands 
of  Moses,  as  of  them  the  Apostle  speaks  as 
follows:  "They  went  about  in  sheepskins  and 
in  goatskins,  they  were  oppressed,  afflicted, 
in  want,  of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy, 
they  wandered  about  in  deserts  and  in  moun- 
tains, and  in  caves  and  in  dens  of  the  earth. "  3 
What  shall  I  say  of  the  sons  of  Jonadab  the 
son  of  Rechab,  of  whom  we  are  told  that, 
when  at  the  Lord's  bidding  the  prophet 
Jeremiah  offered  them  wine,  they  replied: 
"We  drink  no  wine:  for  Jonadab  the  son 
of  Rechab,  our  father,  commanded  us,  say- 
ing: Ye  shall  drink  no  wine,  ye  and  your 
sons  forever:    and  ye  shall  build  no   house, 


Gen.  xiv.  22,  23.         2  Cf.  Exod.  xxi.  24.        3  Heb.  xi.  37,  38. 


nor  sow  any  seed,  nor  plant  vineyards  nor 
possess  them:  but  ye  shall  dwell  in  tents  all 
your  days  "  ?  Wherefore  also  they  were  per- 
mitted to  hear  from  the  same  prophet  these 
words :  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God  of  hosts,  the 
God  of  Israel :  there  shall  not  fail  a  man  from 
the  stock  of  Jonadab  the  son  of  Rechab  to 
stand  in  My  sight  all  the  days;  "  4  as  all  of 
them  were  not  satisfied  with  merely  offering 
tithes  of  their  possessions,  but  actually  refused 
property,  and  offered  the  rather  to  God  them- 
selves and  their  souls,  for  which  no  redemp- 
tion can  be  made  by  man,  as  the  Lord  testifies 
in  the  gospel :  "  For  what  shall  a  man  give  in 
exchange  for  his  own  soul  ?  "  5 


CHAPTER   V. 

How  those  who  live  under  the  grace  of  the  Gospel  ought  to  go 
beyond  the  requirement  of  the  law. 

•Wherefore  we  ought  to  know  that  we  from 
whom  the  requirements  of  the  law  are  no 
longer  exacted,  but  in  whose  ears  the  word  of 
the  gospel  daily  sounds:  "If  thou  wilt  be 
perfect,  go  and  sell  all  that  thou  hast  and 
give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure 
in  heaven,  and  come  follow  Me,''6  when  we 
offer  to  God  tithes  of  our  substance,  are  still 
in  a  way  ground  down  beneath  the  burden  of 
the  law,  and  not  able  to  rise  to  those  heights 
of  the  gospel,  those  who  conform  to  which 
are  recompensed  not  only  by  blessings  in  this 
present  life,  but  also  by  future  rewards.  For 
the  law  promises  to  those  who  obey  it  no  re- 
wards of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  only 
solaces  in  this  life,  saying:  "The  man  that 
doeth  these  things  shall  live  in  them.''7  But 
the  Lord  says  to  His  disciples:  "Blessed  are 
the  poor  in  spirit,  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven ;  "  and :  "  Everyone  that  leaveth 
house  or  brothers  or  sisters  or  father  or  mother 
or  wife  or  children  or  field  for  My  name's 
sake,  shall  receive  an  hundredfold,  and  shall 
inherit  eternal  life."8  And  this  with  good 
reason.  For  it  is  not  so  praiseworthy  for 
us  to  abstain  from  forbidden  as  from  lawful 
things,  and  not  to  use  these  last  out  of  reve- 
rence for  Him,  Who  has  permitted  us  to  use 
them  because  of  our  weakness.  And  so  if 
even  those  who,  faithfully  offering  tithes  of 
their  fruits,  are  obedient  to  the  more  ancient 
precepts  of  the  Lord,  cannot  yet  climb  the 
heights  of  the  gospel,  you  can  see  very  clearly 
how  far  short  of  it  those  fall  who  do  not  even 
do  this.  For  how  can  those  men  be  partakers 
of  the  grace  of  the  gospel  who  disregard  the 


*  Jer.  xxxv.  6,  7,  19. 
5  S.  Matt.  xvi.  25. 


6  S.  Matt.  xix.  21.     s  s.  Matt. 
'  Lev.  xviii.  5. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   THEONAS. 


505 


fulfilment  even  of  the  lighter  commands  of  the 
law,  to  the  easy  character  of  which  the  weighty 
words  of  the  giver  of  the  law  bear  testimony, 
as  a  curse  is  actually  invoked  on  those  who  do 
not  fulfil  them  ;  for  it  says  :  "  Cursed  is  every- 
one that  does  not  continue  in  all  things  that 
are  written  in  the  book  of  the  law  to  do 
them."  x  But  here  on  account  of  the  superi- 
ority and  excellence  of  the  commandments  it 
is  said:  "He  that  can  receive  it,  let  him  re- 
ceive it."2  There  the  forcible  compulsion  of 
the  lawgiver  shows  the  easy  character  of  the 
precepts;  for  he  says:  "I  call  heaven  and 
earth  to  record  against  you  this  day,  that  if 
ye  do  not  keep  the  commandments  of  the  Lord 
your  God  ye  shall  perish  from  off  the  face  of 
the  earth. "  3  Here  the  grandeur  of  sublime 
commands  is  shown  by  the  very  fact  that  He 
does  not  order,  but  exhorts,  saying :  "  if  thou 
wilt  be  perfect  go  "  and  do  this  or  that.  There 
Moses  lays  a  burden  that  cannot  be  refused 
on  those  who  are  unwilling:  here  Paul  meets 
with  counsels  those  who  are  willing  and  eager 
for  perfection.  For  that  was  not  to  be  enjoined 
as  a  general  charge,  nor  to  be  required,  if  I 
may  so  say,  as  a  regular  rule  from  all,  which 
could  not  be  secured  by  all,  owing  to  its  won- 
derful and  lofty  nature;  but  by  counsels  all 
are  rather  stimulated  to  grace,  that  those  who 
are  great  may  deservedly  be  crowned  by  the 
perfection  of  their  virtues,  while  those  who  are 
small,  and  not  able  to  come  up  to  "the  meas- 
ure of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ,"4 
although  they  seem  to  be  lost  to  sight 
and  hidden  as  it  were  by  the  brightness  of 
larger  stars,  may  yet  be  free  from  the  darkness 
of  the  curses  which  are  in  the  law,  and  not 
adjudged  to  suffer  present  evils  or  visited  with 
eternal  punishment.  Christ  therefore  does 
not  constrain  anyone,  by  the  compulsion  of 
a  command,  to  those  lofty  heights  of  good- 
ness, but  stimulates  them  by  the  power  of  free 
will,  and  urges  them  on  by  wise  counsels  and 
the  desire  of  perfection.  For  where  there  is 
a  command,  there  is  duty,  and  consequently 
punishment.  But  those  who  keep  those  things 
to  which  they  are  driven  by  the  severity  of 
the  law  established  escape  the  punishment 
with  which  they  were  threatened,  instead  of 
obtaining  rewards  and  a  recompense. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

How  the  grace  of  the  gospel  supports  the  weak  so  that  they 
can  obtain  pardon,  as  it  secures  to  the  perfect  the  kingdom 
of  God. 

And  as  the  word  of  the  gospel  raises  those 
that  are  strong  to  sublime  and  lofty  heights, 


so  it  suffers  not  the  weak  to  be  dragged  down 
to  the  depths,  for  it  secures  to  the  perfect  the 
fulness  of  blessing,  and  brings  to  those  who 
are  overcome  through  weakness  pardon.  For 
the  law  placed  those  who  fulfilled  its  com- 
mands in  a  sort  of  middle  state  between  what 
they  deserved  in  either  case,  severing  them 
from  the  condemnation  due  to  transgressors,  as 
it  also  kept  them  away  from  the  glory  of  the 
perfect.  But  how  wretched  and  miserable  this 
is,  you  can  see  from  comparing  the  state  of 
this  present  life,  in  which  it  is  considered  a 
very  poor  thing  for  a  man  to  sweat  and 
labour  only  to  avoid  being  regarded  as  guilty 
among  good  men,  not  also  to  be  esteemed  rich 
and  honourable  and  renowned. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

How  it  lies  in  our  own  power  to  choose  whether  to  remain 
under  the  grace  of  the  gospel  or  under  the  terror  of  the  law. 

Wherefore  it  lies  today  in  our  own  power 
whether  we  choose  to  live  under  the  grace  of 
the  gospel  or  under  the  terrors  of  the  law :  for 
each  man  must  incline  to  one  side  or  the 
other  in  accordance  with  the  character  of  his 
actions,  for  either  the  grace  of  Christ  wel- 
comes those  who  go  beyond  the  law,  or  else 
the  law  keeps  its  hold  over  the  weaker  ones 
as  those  who  are  its  debtors  and  within  its 
clutches.  For  one  who  is  guilty  as  regards 
the  precepts  of  the  law  will  never  be  able  to 
attain  to  the  perfection  of  the  gospel,  even 
though  he  idly  boasts  that  he  is  a  Christian 
and  freed  by  the*  Lord's  grace:  for  we  must 
not  only  regard  as  still  under  the  law  the  man 
who  refuses  to  fulfil  what  the  law  enjoins,  but 
the  man  as  well  who  is  satisfied  with  the  mere 
observance  of  what  the  law  commands,  and 
who  never  brings  forth  fruits  worthy  of  his 
vocation  and  the  grace  of  Christ,  where  it  is 
not  said :  "  Thou  shalt  offer  to  the  Lord  thy  God 
thy  tithes  and  firstfruits;  "  but:  "Go  and  sell 
all  that  thou  hast  and  give  to  the  poor,  and 
come  follow  Me  ;  "  5  where,  owing  to  the  grand- 
eur of  perfection,  to  the  request  of  the  dis- 
ciple there  is  not  granted  even  the  very  short" 
space  of  an  hour  in  which  to  bury  his  father,0 
as  the  offices  of  human  charity  are  outweighed 
by  the  virtue  of  Divine  love. 


1  Deut.  xxvii.  26. 

2  S.  Matt.  xix.  12. 


3  Deut.  iv.  26. 

4  Eph.  iv.  13. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

How  Theonas  exhorted  his  wife  that  she  too  should  make  her 
renunciation. 

And  when  he   had  heard   this  the  blessed 
Theonas    was    fired    with    an     uncontrollable 


Exod.  xxii.  29;  S.  Matt.  xix. 


0  Cf.  S.  Matt. 


506 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


desire  for  the  perfection  of  the  gospel,  and, 
committed,  as  it  were,  the  seed  of  the  word, 
which  he  had  received  in  a  fruitful  heart,  to 
the  deep  and  broken  furrows  of  his  bosom, 
as  he  was  greatly  humiliated  and  conscience- 
stricken  because  the  old  man  had  said  not 
only  that  he  had  failed  to  attain  to  the  per- 
fection of  the  gospel,  but  also  that  he  had 
scarcely  fulfilled  the  commands  of  the  law; 
since  though  he  was  accustomed  every  year 
to  pay  the  tithes  of  his  fruits  as  alms,  yet  he 
mourned  that  he  had  never  even  heard  of  the 
law  of  the  firstfruits;  and  even  if  he  had  in 
the  same  way  fulfilled  this,  he  humbly  con- 
fessed that  still  he  would  in  the  old  man's 
view  have  been  very  far  from  the  perfection 
of  the  gospel.  And  so  he  returned  home  sad 
and  filled  with  that  sorrow  which  worketh 
repentance  unto  salvation,1  and  of  his  own 
will  and  determination  turns  all  his  wife's  care 
and  anxiety  of  mind  towards  salvation;  and 
began  to  stir  her  up  to  the  same  eager  desire 
with  which  he  himself  had  been  inflamed,  with 
the  same  sort  of  exhortations,  and  with  tears 
day  and  night  to  urge  her  that  together  they 
might  serve  God  in  sanctity  and  chastity,  tell- 
ing her  that  their  conversion  to  a  better  life 
ought  not  to  be  deferred  because  a  vain  hope 
in  their  youth  would  be  no  argument  against 
the  inevitableness  of  a  sudden  death,  which 
carries  off  boys  and  youths  and  young  persons 
equally  with  old  men. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

How  he  fled  to  a  monastery  when  his  wife  would  not  consent. 

And  when  his  wife  was  hard  and  would  not 
consent  to  him  as  he  constantly  persisted  with 
entreaties  of  this  kind,  but  said  that  as  she  was 
in  the  flower  of  her  age  she  could  not  alto- 
gether do  without  the  solace  of  her  husband, 
and  further  that  supposing  she  was  deserted 
by  him  and  fell  into  sin,  the  guilt  would  rather 
be  his  who  had  broken  the  bonds  of  wedlock: 
to  this  he,  when  he  had  for  a  long  while 
urged  the  condition  of  human  nature  (which 
being  so  weak  and  uncertain,  it  would  be 
dangerous  for  it  to  be  any  longer  mixed  up 
with  carnal  desires  and  works),  added  the  as- 
sertion that  it  was  not  right  for  anyone  to  cut 
himself  off  from  that  virtue  to  which  he  had 
learnt  that  he  ought  by  all  means  to  cleave,  and 
that  it  was  more  dangerous  to  disregard  good- 
ness when  discovered,  than  to  fail  to  love  it 
before  it  was  discovered ;  further  that  he  was  al- 
ready involved  in  the  guilt  of  a  fall  if  when  he 
had  discovered  such  grand  and  heavenly  bless- 

1  Cf.  2  Cor.  vii,  10. 


ings  he  had  preferred  earthly  and  mean  ones. 
Further  that  the  grandeur  of  perfection  was 
open  to  every  age  and  either  sex,  and  that  all 
the  members  of  the  Church  were  urged  to  scale 
the  heights  of  heavenly  goodness  when  the 
Apostle  said:  "  So  run  that  ye  may  obtain;  "  2 
nor  should  those  who  were  ready  and  eager 
for  it  hang  back  because  of  the  delays  of  the 
slow  and  dawdlers,  as  it  is  better  for  the  slug- 
gards to  be  urged  on  by  those  running  before 
than  for  those  who  are  doing  their  best  to  be 
hampered  by  the  slothful.  Further  that  he 
had  determined  and  made  up  his  mind  to 
renounce  the  world  and  to  die  to  the  world 
that  he  might  live  to  God,  and  that  if  he 
could  not  attain  this  happiness;  viz.,  to  pass 
with  his  wife  into  union  with  Christ,  he  would 
rather  be  saved  even  with  the  loss  of  one 
member,  andeaiter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
as  one  maimed  rather  than  be  condemned 
with  his  body  whole.  But  he  also  added  and 
spoke  as  follows:  If  Moses  suffered  wives  to 
be  divorced  for  the  hardness  of  their  hearts, 
why  should  not  Christ  allow  this  for  the 
desire  of  chastity,  especially  when  the  same 
Lord  among  those  other  affections;  viz.,  for 
fathers  and  mothers  and  children  (all  due 
regard  to  which  not  only  the  law  but  He  Him- 
self also  charged  to  be  shown,  yet  for  His 
name's  sake  and  for  the  desire  of  perfection  He 
decreed  that  they  should  not  simply  be  disre- 
garded but  actually  hated)  —  to  these,  1  say, 
He  joined  also  the  mention  of  wives,  saying: 
"  And  everyone  that  hath  left  house,  or  brethren 
or  sisters  or  father  or  mother  or  wife  or  child- 
ren for  My  name's  sake,  shall  receive  an  hun- 
dredfold and  shall  inherit  eternal  life."3  So 
far  then  is  He  from  allowing  anything  to  be 
set  against  that  perfection  which  He  is  pro- 
claiming, that  He  actually  enjoins  that  the 
ties  to  father  and  mother  should  be  broken 
and  disregarded  out  of  love  for  Him,  though 
according  to  the  Apostle  it  is  the  first  com- 
mandment with  promise;  viz.,  ''Honour  thy 
father  and  thy  mother,  which  is  the  first  com- 
mandment with  promise,  that  it  may  be  well 
with  thee  and  that  thy  days  may  be  long  upon 
earth. ' ' 4  And  as  the  word  of  the  gospel 
condemns  those  who  break  the  chains  of 
matrimony  where  there  has  been  no  sin  of 
adultery,  so  it  clearly  promises  a  reward  of  an 
hundredfold  to  those  who  have  cast  off  a 
carnal  yoke  out  of  love  for  Christ  and  the 
desire  for  chastity.  Wherefore  if  it  can  be 
brought  about  that  you  may  listen  to  reason 
and  be  turned  together  with  me  to  this  most 
desirable  choice;  viz.,  that  we  should  together 
serve  the  Lord  and  escape  the  pains  of  hell, 
I  will  not  refuse  the  affection  of    marriage, 


3  i  Cor.  ix.  24. 


•  S.  Matt.  xix.  29. 


*  Eph.  vi.  2,  3. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   THEONAS. 


507 


nay  I  will  embrace  it  with  a  still  greater  love. 
For  I  acknowledge  and  honour  my  helpmeet 
assigned  to  me  by  the  word  of  the  Lord,  and 
I  do  not  refuse  to  be  joined  to  lier  in  an  un- 
broken tie  of  love  in  Christ,  nor  do  I  separate 
from  me  what  the  Lord  joined  to  me  by  the 
law  of  the  original  condition,1  if  only  you 
yourself  will  be  what  your  Maker  meant  you 
to  be.  But  if  you  will  not  be  a  helpmeet, 
but  prefer  to  make  yourself  a  deceiver  and 
an  assistance  not  to  me  but  to  the  adversary, 
and  fancy  that  the  sacrament  of  matrimony 
was  granted  to  you  for  this  reason  that  you 
may  deprive  yourself  of  this  salvation  which 
is  offered  to  you,  and  also  hold  me  back  from 
following  the  Saviour  as  a  disciple,  then  I 
will  resolutely  lay  hold  on  the  words  which 
were  uttered  by  the  lips  of  Abbot  John,  or 
rather  of  Christ  Himself,  so  that  no  carnal 
affection  may  be  able  to  tear  me  away  from 
spiritual  blessings,  for  He  says:  "He  that 
hateth  not  father  and  mother  and  children 
and  brothers  and  sisters  and  wife  and  lands, 
yea  and  his  own  soul  also,  cannot  be  My 
disciple."2  When  then  by  these  and  such 
like  words  the  woman's  purpose  was  not 
moved  and  she  persisted  in  the  same  obstinate 
hardness,  If,  said  the  blessed  Theonas,  I  can- 
not drag  you  away  from  death,  neither  shall 
you  separate  me  from  Christ:  but  it  is  safer 
for  me  to  be  divorced  from  a  human  person 
than  from  God.  And  so  by  the  aid  of  God's 
grace  he  at  once  set  about  the  execution  of 
his  purpose  and  suffered  not  the  ardour  of 
his  desire  to  grow  cool  through  any  delay. 
For  at  once  he  stripped  himself  of  all  his 
worldly  goods,  and  fled  to  a  monastery,  where 
in  a  very  short  time  he  was  so  famous  for  the 
splendour  of  his  sanctity  and  humility  that 
when  John  of  blessed  memory  departed  this 
life  to  the  Lord,  and  the  holy  Elias,  a  man 
who  was  no  less  great  than  his  predecessor, 
had  likewise  died,  Theonas  was  chosen  by  the 
judgment  of  all  as  the  third  to  succeed  them 
in  the  administration  of  the  almsgiving. 


CHAPTER   X. 

An  explanation  that  we  may  not  appear  to  recommend 
separation  trom  wives. 

But  let  no  one  imagine  that  we  have  in- 
vented this  for  the  sake  of  encouraging 
divorce,  as  we  not  only  in  no  way  condemn 
marriage,  but  also,  following  the  words  of 
the  Apostle,  say:  "Marriage  is  honourable 
in  all,  and  the  bed  undefiled,"3  but  it  was 
in    order   faithfully   to    show   the    reader   the 


1  Cf.  Gen.  ii. 


2  S.  Luke  xiv.  26. 


3  Heb.  xiii.  4. 


origin  of  the  conversion  by  which  this  great 
man  was  dedicated  to  God.  And  I  ask  the 
reader  kindly  to  allow  that,  whether  he  likes 
this  or  no,  in  either  case  I  am  free  from 
blame,  and  to  give  the  praise  or  blame  for 
this  act  to  its  real  author.  But  as  for  me, 
as  I  have  not  put  forward  an  opinion  of  my 
own  on  this  matter,  but  have  given  a  simple 
narration  of  the  history  of  the  facts,  it  is  fair 
that  as  I  claim  no  praise  from  those  who  ap- 
prove of  what  was  done,  so  I  should  not  be 
attacked  by  the  hatred  of  those  who  disap- 
prove of  it.  Let  every  man  therefore,  as  we 
said,  have  his  own  opinion  on  the  matter. 
But  I  advise  him  to  restrain  his  censure  in 
considering  it,  lest  he  come  to  fancy  that  he 
is  more  just  and  holy  than  the  Divine  judg- 
ment, whereby  the  signs  even  of  Apostolic 
virtue  were  conferred  upon  him  (viz.,  Theo- 
nas), not  to  mention  the  opinion  of  such  great 
fathers  by  whom  it  is  clear  that  his  action 
was  not  only  not  blamed,  but  even  so  far 
praised  that  in  the  election  to  the  office  of 
almoner  they  preferred  him  to  splendid  and 
most  excellent  men.  And  I  fancy  that  the 
judgment  of  so  many  spiritual  men,  uttered 
with  God  as  its  author,  was  not  wrong,  as  it 
was,  as  was  said  above,  confirmed  by  such 
wonderful  signs. 

CHAPTER   XL 

An  inquiry  why  in   Egypt  they  do  not  fast  during  all  the 
fifty  days  (of  Easter)  nor  bend  their  knees  in  prayer. 

But  it  is  now  time  to  follow  out  the  plan 
of  the  promised  discourse.  So  then  when 
Abbot  Theonas  had  come  to  visit  us  in  our 
cell  during  Eastertide 4  after  Evensong  was 
over  we  sat  for  a  little  while  on  the  ground 
and  began  diligently  to  consider  why  they 
were  so  very  careful  that  no  one  should  during 
the  whole  fifty  days  either  bend  his  knees  in 
prayer'5  or  venture  to  fast  till  the  ninth  hour, 
and  we  made  our  inquiry  the  more  earnestly 
because  we  had  never  seen  this  custom  so 
carefully  observed  in  the  monasteries  of 
Syria. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  answer  on  the  nature  of  things  good,  bad,  and  indifferent. 

To  this  Abbot  Theonas  thus  began  his  reply. 
It  is  indeed  right  for  us,  even  when  we  can- 


4  Quinquagesima. 

5  The  20th  Canon  of  the  Council  of  Nicasa  (a.d.  325)  alludes 
to  diversities  of  custom  with  regard  to  posture  for  prayer  on  Sun- 
days and  from  Easter  to  Pentecost,  and  ordered  that  for  the  future 
prayer  should  be  made  standing  at  these  times.  Cassian's  language 
in  the  text  would  seem  to  show  that  in  his  day  the  Canon  in  ques- 
tion, though  kept  in  Egypt,  was  not  strictly  observed  in  Palestine, 
but  that  the  ancient  diversity  of  customs  still  to  some  extent  prevailed. 


5oS 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


not  see  the  reason,  to  yield  to  the  authority  of 
the  fathers  and  to  a  custom  of  our  predeces- 
sors that  has  been  continued  through  so  many 
years  down  to  our  own  time,  and  to  observe 
it,  as  handed  down  from  antiquity,  with  con- 
stant care  and  reverence.  But  since  you  want 
to  know  the  reasons  and  grounds  for  this, 
receive  in  few  words  what  we  have  heard  as 
handed  down  by  our  Elders  on  this  subject. 
But  before  we  bring  forward  the  authority  of 
Holy  Scripture,  we  will,  if  you  please,  say  a 
little  about  the  nature  and  character  of  the 
fast,  that  afterwards  the  authority  of  Holy 
Scripture  may  support  our  words.  The  Divine 
Wisdom  has  pointed  out  in  Ecclesiastes  that 
for  everything,  i.e.,  for  all  things  happy  or 
those  which  are  considered  unfortunate  and 
unhappy,  there  is  a  right  time:  saying: -"For 
all  things  there  is  a  time,  and  a  time  for  every- 
thing under  the  heaven.  A  time  to  bring 
forth  and  a  time  to  die;  a  time  to  plant  and 
a  time  to  pull  down  what  is  planted ;  a  time 
to  kill  and  a  time  to  heal ;  a  time  to  destroy 
and  a  time  to  build;  a  time  to  weep  and  a 
time  to  laugh ;  a  time  to  mourn  and  a  time  to 
dance ;  a  time  to  cast  away  stones  and  a  time 
to  gather  stones ;  a  time  to  embrace  and  a 
time  to  refrain  from  embracing;  a  time  to 
get  and  a  time  to  lose;  a  time  to  keep  and 
a  time  to  send  away;  a  time  to  scatter  and  a 
time  to  collect;  a  time  to  be  silent  and  a  time 
to  speak ;  a  time  to  love  and  a  time  to  hate ; 
a  time  for  war  and  a  time  for  peace ; "  and 
below:  "For  there  is  a  time/5  it  says,  "for 
everything  and  for  every  deed."  *  None  there- 
fore of  these  things  does  it  lay  down  as  always 
good,  but  only  when  any  of  them  are  fittingly 
done  and  at  the  right  time,  so  that  these  very 
things  which  at  one  time,  when  done  at  the 
right  moment,  turn  out  well,  if  they  are  ven- 
tured on  at  a  wrong  or  unsuitable  time,  are 
found  to  be  useless  or  harmful ;  only  except- 
ing those  things  which  are  in  their  own  .nature 
good  or  bad,  and  which  cannot  ever  be  made 
the  opposite,  as,  e.g.,  justice,  prudence,  forti- 
tude, temperance  and  the  rest  of  the  virtues, 
or  on  the  other  hand,  those  faults,  the  des- 
cription of  which  cannot  possibly  be  altered 
or  fall  under  the  other  head.  But  those  things 
which  can  sometimes  turn  out  with  either 
result,  so  that,  in  accordance  with  the  char- 
acter of  those  who  use  them,  they  are  found  to 
be  either  good  or  bad,  these  we  consider  to  be 
not  absolutely  in  their  own  natures  useful  or 
injurious,  but  only  so  in  accordance  with  the 
mind  of  the  doer,  and  the  suitableness  of  the 
time. 


1  Eccl.  i'ii.  i-S,  17. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

What  kind  of  good  fasting  is. 

Wherefore  we  must  now  inquire  what  we 
ought  to  hold  about  the  state  of  fasting, 
whether  we  meant  that  it  was  good  ii  the 
same  sort  of  way  as  justice,  prudence,  forti- 
tude and  temperance,  which  cannot  possibly 
be  made  anything  else,  or  whether  it  is  some- 
thing indifferent  which  sometimes  is  useful 
when  done,  and  may  be  sometimes  omitted 
without  condemnation ;  and  which  sometimes 
it  is  wrong  to  do,  and  sometimes  laudable  to 
omit.  For  if  we  hold  fasting  to  be  included 
in  that  list  of  virtues,  so  that  abstinence  from 
food  is  placed  among  those  things  which  are 
good  in  themselves,  then  certainly  the  par- 
taking of  food  will  be  bad  and  wrong.  For 
whatever  is  the  opposite  of  that  which  is  in 
its  own  nature  good,  must  certainly  be  held 
to  be  in  its  own  nature  bad.  But  this  the 
authority  of  Holy  Scripture  does'not  allow  to 
us  to  lay  down.  For  if  we  fast  with  such 
thoughts  and  intentions,  so  as  to  think  that 
we  fall  into  sin  by  taking  food,  we  shall  not 
only  gain  no  advantage  by  our  abstinence 
but  shall  actually  contract  grievous  guilt  and 
fall  into  the  sin  of  impiety,  as  the  Apostle 
says:  "Abstaining  from  meats  which  God 
has  created  to  be  received  with  thanksgiving 
by  the  faithful  and  those  who  know  the  truth. 
For  every  creature  of  God  is  good,  and  no- 
thing to  be  refused  if  it  is  partaken  of  with 
thanksgiving."  For  "if  a  man  thinks  that  a 
thing  i;  common,  to  him  it  is  common."2 
And  therefore  we  never  read  that  anyone  is 
condemned  simply  for  taking  food,  but  only 
when  something  was  joined  with  it  or  followed 
afterwards,  for  which  he  deserved  condemna- 
tion. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

How  fasting  is  not  good  in  its  own  nature. 

.  And  so  that  it  is  a  thing  indifferent  is  very 
clearly  shown  from  this  also;  viz.,  because 
as  it  brings  justification  when  observed,  so  it 
does  not  bring  condemnation  when  it  is  broken 
in  upon ;  unless  perhaps  the  transgression  of 
a  command  rather  than  the  partaking  of  food 
brings  punishment.  But  in  the  case  of  a  thing 
that  is  good  in  its  own  nature,  no  time  should 
be  without  it,  in  such  a  way  as  that  a  man 
may  do  without  it,  for  if  it  ceases,  the  man 
who  is   careless  about  it  is  sure  to  fall   into 


1  1  Tim.  iv.  3,  4;    Rom.  xiv.  14. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   THEONAS. 


509 


mischief.  Nor  again  is  any  time  given  for 
what  is  bad  in  its  own  nature,  because  what 
is  hurtful  cannot  help  hurting,  if  it  is  indulged 
in,  nor  can  it  ever  be  made  of  a  praiseworthy 
character.  And  further  it  is  clear  that  these 
things,  for  which  we  see  conditions  and  times 
appointed,  and  which  sanctify,  when  observed 
without  corrupting  us  when  they  are  neglected, 
are  things  indifferent,  as,  e.g.,  marriage,  agri- 
culture, riches,  retirement  into  the  desert, 
vigils,  reading  and  meditation  on  Holy  Scrip- 
ture and  fasting  itself,  from  which  our  discus- 
sion took  its  rise.  All  of  which  things  the 
Divine  precepts  and  the  authority  of  Holy 
Scripture  decreed  should  not  be  so  inces- 
santly aimed  at,  or  so  constantly  observed,  as 
for  it  to  be  wrong  for  them  to  be  for  a  time 
intermitted.  For  anything  that  is  absolutely 
commanded  brings  death  if  it  be  not  fulfilled: 
but  whatever  things  we  are  urged  to  rather 
than  commanded,  when  done  are  useful,  when 
left  undone  bring  no  punishment.  And  there- 
fore in  the  case  of  all  or  some  of  these  things 
our  predecessors  commanded  us  either  to  do 
them  with  consideration,  or  to  observe  them 
carefully  with  regard  to  the  reason,  place, 
manner,  and  time,  because  if  any  of  them  are 
done  suitably,  it  is  fit  and  convenient,  but  if 
incongruously,  then  it  becomes  foolish  and 
hurtful.  And  if  at  the  coming  of  a  brother, 
in  whose  person  he  ought  to  refresh  Christ 
with  courtesy  and  to  embrace  him  with  a  most 
kindly  welcome,  a  man  should  choose  to  ob- 
serve a  strict  fast,  would  he  not  rather  be 
guilty  of  incivility  than  gain  the  praise  or 
reward  of  devoutness  ?  or  if  when  the  failure 
or  weakness  of  the  flesh  requires  the  strength 
to  be  restored  by  the  partaking  of  food,  a  man 
will  not  consent  to  relax  the  rigour  of  his 
abstinence,  is  he  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  cruel 
murderer  of  his  own  body  rather  than  as  one 
who  is  careful  for  his  salvation?  So  too 
when  a  festival  season  permits  a  suitable  in- 
dulgence in  food  and  a  necessarily  liberal 
repast,  if  a  man  will  resolutely  cling  to  the 
strict  observance  of  a  fast  he  must  be  consid- 
ered as  not  religious  so  much  as  boorish  and 
unreasonable.  But  to  those  men  also  will 
these  things  be  found  bad,  who  are  on  the 
lookout  for  the  praises  of  men  by  their  fasts, 
and  by  a  foolish  show  of  paleness  gain  credit 
for  sanctity,  of  whom  the  word  of  the  Gospel 
tells  us  that  they  have  received  their  reward 
in  this  life,  and  whose  fast  the  Lord  execrates 
by  the  prophet.  In  whose  person  he  first 
objected  to  himself  and  said:  "Wherefore 
have  we  fasted  and  Thou  hast  not  regarded: 
wherefore  have  we  humbled  our  souls,  and 
Thou  hast  not  known  it  ?  "  and  then  at  once 
he  answered  and  explained  the  reasons  why 


they  did  not  deserve  to  be  heard:  "Behold," 
he  says,  "  in  the  days  of  your  fast  your  own 
will  is  found  and  you  exact  of  all  your  debtors. 
Behold  you  fast  for  debates  and  strife,  and 
strike  with  the  fist  wickedly.  Do  not  fast  as 
ye  have  done  unto  this  day,  to  make  your  cry 
to  be  heard  on  high.  Is  this  such  a  fast  as  1 
have  chosen,  for  a  man  to  afflict  his  soul  for 
a  day?  Is  it  this,  to  wind  his  head  about  like 
a  circle,  and  to  spread  sackcloth  and  ashes? 
Will  ye  call  this  a  fast  and  a  day  acceptable 
to  the  Lord  ?  "  Then  he  proceeds  to  teach 
how  the  abstinence  of  one  who  fasts  may 
become  acceptable,  and  clearly  lays  down 
that  fasting  cannot  be  good  of  itself  alone, 
but  only  when  it  has  the  following  reasons 
which  are  added:  "Is  not  this,"  he  says, 
"  the  fast  that  I  have  chosen  ?  Loose  the 
bands  of  wickedness,  undo  the  bundles  that 
oppress,  let  them  that  are  broken  go  free,  and 
break  asunder  every  burden.  Deal  thy  bread 
to  the  hungry,  and  bring  the  needy  and  the 
harbourless  into  thine  house:  and  when  thou 
shalt  see  one  naked  cover  him,  and  despise 
not  thine  own  flesh.  Then  shalt  thy  light 
break  forth  as  the  morning  and  thy  health 
shall  speedily  arise,  and  thy  righteousness 
shall  go  befcre  thy  face  and  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  shall  gather  thee  up.  Then  shalt  thou 
call,  and  the  Lord  shall  hear:  thou  shalt  cry, 
and  He  shall  say,  Here  am  I."1  You  see 
then  that  fasting  is  certainly  not  considered 
by  the  Lord  as  a  thing  that  is  good  in  its  own 
nature,  because  it  becomes  good  and  well- 
pleasing  to  God  not  by  itself  but  by  other 
works,  and  again  from  the  surrounding  cir- 
cumstances it  may  be  regarded  as  not  merely 
vain  but  actually  hateful,  as  the  Lord  says: 
"  When  they  fast  I  will  not  hear  their 
prayers."  2 

CHAPTER    XV. 

How  a  thing  that  is  good  in  its  own  nature  ought  not  to  be 
done  tor  the  sake  of  some  lesser  good. 

For  we  ought  not  to  practise  pity,  patience 
and  love,  and  the  precepts  of  the  virtues 
mentioned  above,  wherein  there  is  what  is 
good  in  its  own  nature,  for  the  sake  of  fasting, 
but  rather  fasting  for  the  sake  of  them.  For 
our  endeavour  must  be  that  those  virtues 
which  are  really  good  may  be  gained  by 
fasting,  not  that  the  practice  of  those  virtues 
may  lead  to  fasting  as  its  end.  For  this  then 
the  affliction  of  the  flesh  is  useful,  for  this  the 
remedy  of  abstinence  must  be  employed;  viz., 
that  by  it  we  may  succeed  in  attaining  to  love, 
wherein  there  is  what  is  good  without  change, 


1  Isa.  Iviii.  3-9. 


2  Jer.  xiv.  12. 


5io 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


and  continually  with  no  exception  of  time. 
For  medicines,  and  the  goldsmith's  art,  and 
the  systems  of  other  arts  which  there  are  in 
this  world  are  not  employed  for  the  sake  of 
the  instruments  which  belong  to  the  particular 
work;  but  rather  the  implements  are  prepared 
for  the  practice  of  the  art.  And  as  they  are 
useful  for  those  who  understand  them,  so  they 
are  useless  to  those  who  are  ignorant  of  the 
system  of  the  art  in  question;  and  as  they 
are  a  great  help  to  those  who  rely  on  their  aid 
for  doing  their  work,  so  they  cannot  be  of  the 
smallest  use  to  those  who  do  not  know  for 
what  purpose  they  were  made,  and  are  con- 
tented simply  with  the  possession  of  them; 
because  they  make  all  their  value  consist  in  the 
mere  having  of  them,  and  not  in  the  perform- 
ance of  work.  That  then  is  in  its  own  nature 
the  best  thing,  for  the  sake  of  which  things 
indifferent  are  done,  but  the  very  chiefest 
good  is  done  not  for  the  sake  of  anything  else 
but  because  of  its  own  intrinsic  goodness. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

How  what  is  good  in  its  own  nature  can  be  distinguished  from 
other  things  that  are  good. 

And  this  may  be  distinguished  from  those 
other  things  which  we  have  termed  indiffer- 
ent, in  these  ways :  if  a  thing  is  good  in  itself 
and  not  by  reason  of  something  else  :  if  it  is  use- 
ful for  its  own  sake,  and  not  for  the  sake  of 
something  else :  if  it  is  unchangeably  and  at  all 
times  good,  and  always  keeps  its  character  and 
can  never  become  anything  different:  if  its  re- 
moval or  cessation  cannot  fail  to  produce  the 
greatest  harm:  if  that  which  is  its  opposite  is 
in  the  same  way  evil  in  its  own  nature,  and 
can  never  be  turned  into  anything  good.  And 
these  descriptions  by  which  the  nature  of 
things  that  are  good  in  themselves  can  be 
distinguished,  cannot  possibly  be  applied  to 
fasting,  for  it  is  not  good  of  itself,  nor  useful 
for  its  own  sake  because  it  is  wisely  used  for 
the  acquisition  of  purity  of  heart  and  body, 
that  the  pricks  of  the  flesh  being  dulled  the 
soul  may  be  pacified  and  reconciled  to  its 
Creator,  nor  is  it  unchangeably  and  at  all 
times  good,  because  often  we  are  not  injured 
by  its  intermission,  and  indeed  sometimes  if 
it  is  unreasonably  practised  it  becomes  injuri- 
ous. Nor  is  that  which  seems  its  opposite 
evil  in  its  own  rjature,  i.e.,  the  partaking  of 
food,  which  is  naturally  agreeable,  which 
cannot  be  regarded  as  evil,  unless  intemper- 
ance and  luxury  or  some  other  faults  are  the 
result ;  "  For  not  that,  which  entereth  into  the 
mouth,  detileth  a  man,  but  that  which  cometh 


out  of  the  mouth,  that  defileth  a  man."  x  And 
so  a  man  disparages  what  is  good  in  its  own 
nature,  and  does  not  treat  it  properly  or  with- 
out sin,  if  he  does  it  not  for  its  own  sake  but 
for  the  sake  of  something  else,  for  everything 
else  should  be  done  for  the  sake  of  it,  but  it 
should  be  sought  for  its  own  sake  alone. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

Of  the  reason  for  fasting  and  its  value. 

So  then  let  us  constantly  remember  this 
description  of  the  character  of  fasting,  and 
always  aim  at  it  with  all  the  powers  of  the 
soul,  in  such  a  way  as  to  recognize  that  then 
only  is  it  suitable  for  us  if  in  it  we  preserve 
regard  for  time,  its  character  and  degree,  and 
this  not  so  as  to  set  the  end  of  our  hope  upon 
it,  but  so  that  by  it  we  may  succeed  in  attain- 
ing to  purity  of  heart  and  Apostolical  love. 
Therefore  from  this  it  is  clear  that  fasting,  for 
which  not  only  are  there  special  seasons  ap- 
pointed at  which  it  should  be  practised  or 
relaxed,  but  conditions  and  rules  also  laid 
down,  is  not  good  in  its  own  nature,  but  some- 
thing indifferent.  But  those  things  which  are 
either  enjoined  as  good  by  the  authority  of  a 
precept,  or  are  forbidden  as  bad,  are  never 
subject  to  any  exceptions  of  time  in  such  a 
way  that  sometimes  we  should  do  what  is  for- 
bidden or  omit  what  is  commanded.  For  there 
is  no  limit  set  to  justice,  patience,  soberness, 
modesty,  love,  nor  on  the  other  hand  is  a  • 
licence  ever  granted  for  injustice,  impatience, 
wrath,  immodesty,  envy,  and  pride. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

How  fasting  is  not  always  suitable. 

Wherefore  as  we  have  premised  this  on 
the  conditions  of  fasting,  it  seems  well  to  sub- 
join the  authority  of  Holy  Scripture,  by  which 
it  will  be  more  clearly  proved  that  fasting 
neither  can  nor  should  be  always  observed. 
In  the  Gospel  when  the  Pharisees  were  fasting 
together  with  the  disciples  of  John  the  Baptist, 
as  the  Apostles,  as  friends  and  companions  of 
the  heavenly  Bridegroom,  were  not  yet  keep- 
ing the  observance  of  a  fast,  the  disciples  of 
John  (who  thought  that  they  acquired  perfect 
righteousness  by  their  fasts,  as  they  were  fol- 
lowers of  that  grand  preacher  of  repentance 
who  afforded  a  pattern  to  all  the  people  by  his 
own  example,  as  he  not  only  refused  the  differ- 


1  S.  Matt.  xv.  II. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT   THEONAS. 


5ii 


ent  kinds  of  food  which  are  supplied  for 
man's  use,  but  actually  altogether  did  without 
eating  the  bread  which  is  common  to  all)  com- 
plained to  the  Lord  and  said:  "Why  do  we 
and  the  Pharisees  fast  oft  but  thy  disciples 
fast  not?"  to  whom  the  Lord  in  His  reply 
plainly  showed  that  fasting  is  not  suitable 
or  necessary  at  all  times,  when  any  festival 
season  or  opportunity  for  love  intervenes 
and  permits  an  indulgence  in  food,  saying: 
"Can  the  children  of  the  bridegroom  mourn 
while  the  bridegroom  is  with  them?  But 
the  days  will  come  when  the  bridegroom  shall 
be  taken  away  from  them;  and  then-  shall 
they  fast ;  "  1  words  which  although  they  were 
spoken  before  the  resurrection  of  His  Body, 
yet  specially  point  to  the  season  of  Easter- 
tide, in  which  after  His  resurrection  for  forty 
days  He  ate  with  His  disciples,  and  their  joy 
in  His  daily  Presence  did  not  allow  them  to 
fast. 

CHAPTER   XIX.* 

A  question  why  we  break  the  fast  all  through  Eastertide. 

•  Germanus  :  Why  then  do  we  relax  the 
rigour  of  our  abstinence  in  our  meals  all 
through  the  fifty  days,  whereas  Christ  only 
remained  with  His  disciples  for  forty  days 
after  His  resurrection  ? 


CHAPTER   XX. 

The  answer. 

Your  pertinent  question  deserves  to  be 
told  the  perfect  true  reason.  After  the  As- 
cension of  our  Saviour  which  took  place  on 
the  fortieth  day  after  His  Resurrection,  the 
apostles  returned  from  the  Mount  of  Olives, 
on  which  He  had  suffered  them  to  see  Plim 
when  He  was  returning  to  the  Father,  as  the 
book  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  also  testifies, 
and  entered  Jerusalem  and  are  said  to  have 
waited  ten  days  for  the  coming  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  when  these  were  fulfilled  on  the 
fiftieth  day  they  received  Him  with  joy. 
And  thus  in  this  way  the  number  of  this  fes- 
tival was  clearly  made  up,  which  as  we  read 
was  figuratively  foreshadowed  also  in  the  Old 
Testament,  where  when  seven  weeks  were  ful- 
filled the  bread  of  the  firstfruits  was  ordered  to 
be  offered  by  the  priests  to  the  Lord :  2  and  this 
was  indeed  shown  to  be  offered  to  the  Lord 
by  the  preaching  of  the  Apostles  which  they 
are  said  on  that  day  to  have  addressed  to  the 
people ;  the  true  bread  of  the  firstfruits,  which 


1  S.  Matt.  ix.  14,  15. 


2  Cf .  Deut.  xvi.  9. 


when  produced  from  the  instruction  of  a  new 
doctrine,  consecrated  the  firstfruits  of  the 
Jews  as  a  Christian  people  to  the  Lord,  five 
thousand  men  being  filled  with  the  gifts  of  the 
food.  And  therefore  these  ten  days  are  to 
be  kept  with  equal  solemnity  and  joy  as  the 
previous  forty.  And  the  tradition  about  this 
festival,  transmitted  to  us  by  Apostolic  men, 
should  be  kept  with  the  same  uniformity. 
For  therefore  on  those  days  they  do  not  bow 
their  knees  in  prayer,  because  the  bending  of 
the  knees  is  a  sign  of  penitence  and  mourn- 
ing. Wherefore  also  during  these  days  we  ob- 
serve in  all  things  the  same  solemnities  as  on 
Sunday,  on  which  day  our  predecessors  taught 
that  men  ought  not  to  fast  nor  to  bow  the 
knee,  out  of  reverence  for  the  Lord's  Resur- 
rection. 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

A  question  whether  the  relaxation  of  the  fast  is  not  prejudicial 
to  the  chastity  of  the  body. 

Germanus  :  Can  the  flesh,  attracted  by  the 
unwonted  luxuries  of  so  long  a  festival  fail  to 
produce  something  thorny  from  the  incentives 
to  sin  although  they  have  been  cut  down  ?  or 
can  the  soul  weighed  down  by  the  consumption 
of  unaccustomed  feasts  fail  to  mitigate  the 
rigour  of  its  rule  over  its  servant  the  body, 
especially  when  in  our  case  our  mature  age 
can  excite  our  subject  members  to  a  speedy 
revolt,  if  we  venture  to  take  our  usual  food  in 
larger  quantities,  or  unaccustomed  food  more 
freely  than  usual? 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

The  answer  on  the  way  to  keep  control  over  alstinence. 

Theonas  :  If  we  weigh  everything  that  we 
do,  by  a  reasonable  judgment  of  the  mind,  and 
on  the  purity  of  our  heart  always  consult  not 
the  opinions  of  other  people  but  our  own  con- 
science, that  interval  for  refreshment  is  sure 
not  to  interfere  with  our  proper  strictness,  if 
only,  as  was  said,  our  pure  mind  impartially 
considers  the  right  limits  of  indulgence  and 
abstinence,  and  fairly  checks  excess  in  either, 
and  with  real  discrimination  discerns  whether 
the  weight  of  the  delicacies  is  a  burden  upon 
our  spirits,  or  whether  too  much  austerity  in 
abstaining  weighs  down  the  other  side,  i.e., 
that  of  the  body,  and  either  depresses  or  raises 
that  side  which  it  sees  to  be  raised  or  weighed 
down.  For  our  Lord  would  have  nothing 
done  to  His  honour  and  glory  without  being 
tempered  by  judgment,  for  "the  honour  of  a 


5i2 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


king  loveth  judgment,"1  and  therefore  Solo- 
mon, the  wisest  of  men,  urges  us  not  to  let 
our  judgment  incline  to  either  side,  saying: 
"  Honour  God  with  thy  righteous  labours  and 
offer  to  Him  of  the  fruits  of  thy  righteous- 
ness."2 For  we  have  residing  in  our  con- 
science an  uncorrupt  and  true  judge  who 
sometimes,  when  all  are  wrong,  is  the  only 
person  not  deceived  as  to  the  state  of  our 
purity.  And  so  with  all  care  and  pains  we 
should  preserve  a  constant  purpose  in  our 
circumspect  heart  for  fear  lest  if  the  judg- 
ment of  our  discretion  goes  wrong,  we  may 
be  fired  with  the  desire  for  an  ill-considered 
abstinence,  or  allured  by  the  wish  for  an 
excessive  relaxation,  and  so  weigh  the  sub- 
stance of  our  strength  in  the  tongue  of  an 
unfair  balance;  but  we  should  place  in  one 
of  the  scales  our  purity  of  soul,  and  in  the 
other  our  bodily  strength,  and  weigh  them 
both  in  the  true  judgment  of  conscience,  so 
that  we  may  not  perversely  incline  the  scale 
of  fairness  to  either  side,  either  to  undue 
strictness  or  to  excessive  relaxation,  from  the 
preponderating  desire  for  one  or  the  other, 
and  so  have  this  said  to  us  by  reason  of  ex- 
cessive strictness  or  relaxation :  "  If  thou 
offerest  rightly,  but  dost  not  divide  rightly, 
hast  thou  not  sinned?  "  3  For  those  offerings 
of  fasts,  which  we  thoughtlessly  extort  by 
violently  tearing  our  bowels,  and  fancy  that 
we  rightly  offer  to  the  Lord,  these  He  exe- 
crates who  "loves  mercy  and  judgment,"  say- 
ing: "I  the  Lord  love  judgment,  but  I  hate 
robbery  in  a  burnt  offering. " 4  Those  also 
who  take  the  main  part  of  their  offerings,  i.e., 
their  offices  and  actions,  'to  benefit  the  flesh 
for  their  own  use,  but  leave  the  remains 
of  them  and  a  tiny  portion  for  the  Lord, 
these  the  Divine  Word  thus  condemns  as 
fraudulent  workmen  :  "  Cursed  is  he  that  doeth 
the  work  of  the  Lord  fraudulently."5  It  is 
not  then  without  reason  that  the  Lord  reproves 
him  who  thus  deceives  himself  by  unfair  con- 
siderations, saying:  "But  vain  are  the  chil- 
dren of  men:  the  children  of  men  are  liars 
upon  the  balances  that  they  may  deceive."6 
And  therefore  the  blessed  Apostle  warns  us 
to  keep  hold  of  the  reins  of  discretion  and 
not  to  be  attracted  by  excess  and  swerve  to 
either  side,  saying:  "Your  reasonable  ser- 
vice."7 And  the  giver  of  the  law  similarly 
forbids  the  same  thing,  saying :  "  Let  the 
balance  be  just  and  the  weights  equal,  the 
bushel  just  and  the  sextarius  equal,"8  and 
Solomon   also   gives   a  like  opinion  on  this 


1  Ps.  xcviii.  (xcix.)  4. 

2  Prov.  iii.  9. 

3  Gen.  iv.  7  (xxx.). 

4  Ps.  xxxii.  (xxxiii.)  5  ;  Isa.  lxi.  S. 


5  Ter.  xlviii.  10. 

«  Ps.  lxi.  flxii.)  10. 

7  Rom.  xii.  1. 

8  Lev.  xix.  36. 


matter:  "Great  and  small  weights  and  double 
measures  are  both  unclean  before  the  Lord,  and 
one  who  uses  them  shall  be  hindered  in  his 
contrivances."9  Further  not  only  in  the  way 
in  which  we  have  said,  but  also  in  this  must 
we  strive  not  to  have  unfair  weights  in  our 
hearts,  nor  double  measures  in  the  storehouse 
of  our  conscience,  i.e.,  not  to  overwhelm 
those,  to  whom  we  are  to  preach  the  word 
of  the  Lord,  with  precepts  that  are  too  strict 
and  heavier  than  we  ourselves  can  bear,  while 
we  take  for  granted  that  for  ourselves  those 
things  which  have  to  do  with  the  rule  of 
strictness  are  to  be  softened  by  a  freer  allow- 
ance of  relaxation.  For  when  we  do  this, 
what  is  it  but  to  weigh  and  measure  the  goods 
and  fruits  of  the  Lord's  commands  in  a  double 
weight  and  measure?  For  if  we  dispense 
them  in  one  way  to  ourselves  and  in  another 
to  our  brethren,  we  are  rightly  blamed  by  the 
Lord  because  we  have  unfair  balances  and 
double  measures,  in  accordance  with  the  say- 
ing of  Solomon  which  tells  us  that  "A  double 
weight  is  an  abomination  to  the  Lord,  and 
a  deceitful  balance  is  not  good  in  His  sight.'"  10 
In  this  way  also  we  plainly  incur  the  guilt  of 
using  a  deceitful  weight  and  a  double  mea- 
sure, if  out  of  the  desire  for  the  praise  of  men, 
we  make  a  show  before  the  brethren  of  greater 
strictness  than  what  we  practice  in  private  in 
our  own  cells,  trying  to  appear  more  abstinent 
and  holier  in  the  sight  of  men  than  in  the 
sight  of  God,  an  evil  which  we  should  not 
only  avoid  but  actually  loathe.  But  mean- 
while as  we  have  wandered  some  way  from 
the  question  before  us,  let  us  return  to  the 
point  from  which  we  started. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Of  the  time  and  measure  of  refreshment. 

So  then  we  should  keep  the  observance  of 
the  days  mentioned  in  such  a  way  that  the 
relaxation  allowed  may  be  useful  rather  than 
harmful  to  the  good  of  body  and  soul,  because 
the  joy  of  any  festival  cannot  blunt  the  pricks 
of  the  flesh,  nor  can  that  fierce  enemy  of  ours 
be  pacified  by  regard  for  days.  In  order  then 
that  the  observance  of  the  customs  appointed 
for  festival  seasons  may  be  kept  and  that  the 
most  salutary  rule  of  abstinence  be  not  at 
all  exceeded  it  is  enough  for  us  to  allow  the 
permitted  relaxation  to  go  so  far,  as  for  us 
out  of  regard  for  the  festival  season  to  take 
the  food,  which  ought  to  be  taken  at  the  ninth 
hour,  a  little  earlier;  viz.,  at  the  sixth  hour, 


3  Prov.  xx.  10,  11. 


10  lb.  23. 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   THEONAS. 


513 


but  with  this  condition,  that  the  regular  allow- 
ance and  character  of  the  food  be  not  altered, 
for  fear  lest  the  purity  of  body  and  upright- 
ness of  soul  which  has  been  gained  by  the 
abstinence  of  Lent  be  lost  by  the  relaxation  of 
Easter-tide,  and  it  profit  us  nothing  to  have 
acquired  by  our  fast  what  a  careless  satiety 
causes  us  presently  to  lose,  especially  as  the 
well-known  cunning  of  our  enemy  assaults  the 
stronghold  of  our  purity  then  chiefly  when  he 
sees  that  our  guard  over  it  is  somewhat  relaxed 
at  the  celebration  of  some  festival.  Where- 
fore we  must  most  vigilantly  look  out  that  the 
vigour  of  our  soul  be  never  enervated  by  seduc- 
tive flatteries,  and  we  lose  not  the  purity  of 
our  chastity,  gained,  as  was  said,  by  the  con- 
tinuous efforts  of  Lent,  by  the  repose  and 
carelessness  of  Eastertide.  And  therefore  no 
addition,  at  all  should  be  made  to  the  quality 
or  the  quantity  of  the  food,  but  even  on  the 
highest  festivals  we  should  similarly  abstain 
from  those  foods,  by  abstinence  from  which 
we  preserve  our  uprightness  on  common  days, 
that  the  joy  of  the  festival  may  not  excite  in 
us  a  most  deadly  conflict  of  carnal  desires, 
and  so  be  turned  to  grief,  and  put  an  end  to 
that  most  excellent  festival  of  the  heart,  which 
exults  in  the  joy  of  purity;  and  after  a  brief 
show  of  carnal  joy  we  begin  to  mourn  our  lost 
purity  of  heart  with  a  lasting  sorrow  of  re- 
pentance. Moreover  we  should  strive  that 
this  warning  of  the  prophetic  exhortation  may 
not  be  uttered  against  us  to  no  purpose : 
"Celebrate,  O  Judah,  thy  festivals,  and  pay 
thy  vows."  1  For  if  the  occurrence  of  festival 
days  does  not  interfere  with  the  continuity  of 
our  abstinence,  we  shall  continually  enjoy 
spiritual  festivals  and  so,  when  we  cease  from 
servile  work,  "there  shall  be  month  after 
month  and  Sabbath  after  Sabbath."2 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

A  question  on  the  different  ways  of  keeping  Lent. 

Germanus  :  What  is  the  reason  why  Lent 
is  kept  for  six  weeks,  while  in  some  countries 
a  possibly  more  earnest  care  for  religion  seems 
to  have  added  a  seventh  week  as  well,  though 
neither  number  when  you  subtract  Sunday  and 
Saturday,  gives  the  total  of  forty  days?  For 
only  six  and  thirty  days  are  included  in 
these  weeks.3 


1  Nah.  i.  15.  2  Isa.  Ixvi.  23. 

3  On  the  different  uses  in  regard  to  the  Lenten  fast  Socrates 
(H.  E.  V.  xxii.)  writes  as  follows  :  "  Those  at  Rome  fast  three  succes- 
sive weeks  before  Easter,  excepting  Saturdays  and  Sundavs.  The 
Illyrians,  Achaians,  and  Alexandrians  observe  a  fast  of  six  weeks, 
which  they  call  the  forty  days'  fast.  Others  commencing  their  fast 
from  the  seventli  week  before  Easter,  and  fasting  for  fifteen  davs  by 
intervals,  yet  call  that  time  the  forty  days'  fast."     There  are  difficul- 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

The  answer  to  the  effect  that  the  fast  of  Lent  has  referer.ee  to 
the  tithe  of  the  year. 

Theonas:  Although  the  pious  simplicity 
of  some  folks  Avould  put  aside  a  question  on 
this  subject,  yet  because  you  are  more  scru- 
pulous in  your  examination  of  those  things 
which  another  would  consider  unworthy  to 
be  asked  about,  and  want  to  know  the  whole 
truth  of  this  observance  of  ours  and  the  secret 
of  it,  you  shall  have  a  very  clear  reason  for 
this  also,  that  you  may  still  more  plainly  be 
convinced  that  our  predecessors  taught  no- 
thing unreasonable.  By  the  law  of  Moses  the 
command  propounded  to  all  the  people  gene- 
rally was  this :  "  Thou  shalt  offer  to  the  Lord 
thy  God  thy  tithes  and  firstfruits."  4  And  so, 
while  we  are  commanded  to  offer  tithes  of 
our  substance  and  all  our  fruits,  it  is  much 
more  needful  for  us  to  offer  tithes  of  our  life 
and  ordinary  employments  and  actions,  which 
certainly  is  clearly  arranged  for  in  the  calcula- 
tion of  Lent.  For  the  tithe  of  the  number  of 
all  the  days  included  in  the  revolving  circle  of 
the  year  is  thirty-six  days  and  a  half.  But 
in  seven  weeks,  if  Sundays  and  Saturdays 
are  subtracted,  there  remain  thirty-five  days 
assigned  for  fasting.  But  by  the  addition  of 
Easter  Eve  when  the  Saturday's  fast  is  pro- 
longed to  the  cock-crowing  at  the  dawn  of 
Easter  Day,  not  only  is  the  number  of  thirty- 
six  days  made  up,  but  in  regard  to  the  tithe  of 
the  five  days  which  seemed  to  be  over,  if  the 
bit  of  the  night  which  was  added  be  taken  into 
account  nothing  will  be  wanting  to  the  whole 
sum. 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 

How  we  ought  also  to  offer  our  firstfruits  to  the  Lord. 

But  what  shall  I  say  of  the  firstfruits  which 
surely  are  given  daily  by  all  who  serve  Christ 


ties  in  the  way  of  accepting  the  statement  about  the  custom  at 
Rome  (see  below),  but  the  great  variety  of  customs  is  fully  confirmed 
by  Sozomen  (H.  E.  VII.  xix.):  "  In  some  churches  the  time  before 
Easter,  which  is  called  Quadragesima,  and  is  devoted  by  the  people 
to  fasting,  is  made  to  consist  of  six  weeks  :  and  this  is  the  case  in 
Illyria,  and  the  western  regions,  in  Libya,  throughout  Egypt,  and  in 
Palestine  :  whereas  it  is  made  to  comprise  seven  weeks  at  Constanti- 
nople, and  in  the  neighbouring  provinces  as  far  as  Phoenicia.  In 
some  churches  the  people  fast  three  alternate  weeks  during'  the 
space  of  six  or  seven  weeks  ;  whereas  in  others  they  fast  continu- 
ously during  the  three  weeks  immediately  preceding  the  festival." 
The  statement  here  made  with  regard  to  the  West  is  true  except  as 
regards  Milan,  where  Saturday  was  kept  (as  in  the  East)  as  a  festi- 
val :  while  for  the  Constantinopolitan  practice  Chrysostom  (Horn.  xi. 
in  Gen.  §  2)  confirms  what  Sozomen  says :  wliile  Cassian's  language 
in  the  text  bears  witness  to  the  fact  that  both  Egypt  and  Palestine 
agreed  with  the  Roman  practice.  In  either  case,  whether  the  fast 
began  seveu  or  six  weeks  before  Easter,  the  number  of  days  ob- 
served in  the  fast  was  the  same ;  Saturdays  (with  the  exception  of 
Easter  Eve  which  was  always  regarded  as  a  fast)  being  excluded  in 
the  former  case,  while  they  were  all  included  in  the  latter.  Cf  be- 
low, c.  xxvi.  4  Exod.  xxii.  29. 


5H 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


faithfully?  For  when  men  waking  from  sleep 
and  arising  with  renewed  activity  after  their 
rest,  before  they  take  in  any  impulse  or 
thought  in  their  heart,  or  admit  any  recol- 
lection or  consideration  of  business  conse- 
crate their  first  and  earliest  thoughts  as 
divine  offerings,  what  are  they  doing  indeed 
but  rendering  the  firstfruits  of  their  produce 
through  the  High  Priest  Jesus  Christ  for  the 
enjoyment  of  this  life  and  a  figure  of  the 
daily  resurrection?  And  also  when  roused 
from  sleep  in  the  same  way  they  offer  to  God 
a  sacrifice  of  joy  and  invoke  Him  with  the 
first  motion  of  their  tongue  and  celebrate  His 
name  and  praise,  and  throwing  open,  the 
first  thing,  the  door  of  their  lips  to  sing  hymns 
to  Him  they  offer  to  God  the  offices  of  their 
mouth;  and  to  Him  also  in  the  same  way 
they  bring  the  earliest  offerings  of  their  hands 
and  steps,  when  they  rise  from  bed  and  stand 
in  prayer  and  before  they  use  the  services  of 
their  limbs  for  their  own  purposes,  take  to 
themselves  nothing  of  their  services,  but  for 
His  glory  advance  their  steps,  and  set  them 
in  His  praise  and  so  render  the  first  fruits  of 
all  their  movements  by  stretching  forth  the 
hands,  bending  the  knees,  and  prostrating  the 
whole  body.  For  in  no  other  way  can  we  ful- 
fil that  of  which  we  sing  in  the  Psalm :  "  I 
prevented  the  dawning  of  the  day  and  cried ; " 
and:  "Mine  eyes  to  Thee  have  prevented  the 
morning  that  I  might  meditate  on  Thy 
words ; "  and :  "  In  the  morning  shall  my 
prayer  prevent  Thee ;  "  x  unless  after  our  rest 
in  sleep  when,  as  we  said  above,  we  are  re- 
stored as  from  darkness  and  death  to  this 
light,  we  have  the  courage  not  to  begin  by 
taking  any  of  all  the  services  both  of  mind 
and  body  for  our  own  uses.  For  there  is  no 
other  morning  which  the  prophet  "prevented," 
or  which  in  the  same  way  we  ought  to  pre- 
vent, except  either  ourselves,  i.e.,  our  occupa- 
tions and  feelings  and  earthly  cares,  without 
which  we  cannot  exist  —  or  the  most  subtle 
suggestions  of  the  adversary,  which  he  tries  to 
suggest  to  us,  while  still  resting  and  overcome 
with  sleep,  by  the  phantoms  of  vain  dreams, 
with  which,  when  we  presently  awake,  he  will 
fill  our  minds  and  occupy  us,  that  he  may  be 
the  first  to  seize  and  carry  off  the  spoils  of  our 
firstfruits.  Wherefore  we  must  take  the  ut- 
most care  (if  we  want  to  fulfil  in  act  the  mean- 
ing of  the  above  quoted  verse)  that  an  anxious 
watchfulness  takes  regard  of  our  first  and 
earliest  morning  thoughts,  that  they  may  not 
be  defiled  beforehand  being  hastily  taken 
possession  of  by  our  jealous  adversary,  and 
thus  he  may  make  our  firstfruits  to  be  rejected 


by  the  Lord  as  worthless  and  common.  And 
if  he  is  not  prevented  by  us  with  watchful  cir- 
cumspection of  mind,  he  will  not  lay  aside  his 
habit  of  miserably  anticipating  us  nor  cease 
day  after  day  to  prevent  us  by  his  wiles.  And 
therefore  if  we  want  to  offer  firstfruits  that 
are  acceptable  and  well  pleasing  to  God  of  the 
fruits  of  our  mind,  we  ought  to  spend  no 
ordinary  care  to  keep  all  the  senses  of  our 
body,  especially  during  the  hours  of  the  morn- 
ing, as  a  sacred  holocaust  to  the  Lord  pure  and 
undefiled  in  all  things.  And  this  kind  of 
devotion  many  even  of  those  who  live  in  the 
world  observe  with  the  utmost  care,  as  they 
rise  before  it  is  light  or  very  early,  and  do  not 
at  all  mix  in  the  ordinary  and  necessary  busi- 
ness of  this  world  before  hastening  to  church 
and  striving  to  consecrate  in  the  sight  of  God 
the  firstfruits  of  all  their  actions  and  doings. 


CPIAPTER   XXVII. 

Why  Lent  is  kept  by  very  many  with  a  different  number  of 
days. 

Further,  as  for  what  you  say;  viz.,  that  in 
some  countries  Lent  is  kept  in  different  ways, 
i.e.,  for  six  or  seven  weeks,  it  is  but  one  sys- 
tem and  the  same  manner  of  the  fast  that  is 
preserved  by  the  different  observance  of  the 
weeks.  For  those  who  think  one  ought  to  fast 
also  on  the  Saturday,  have  determined  on  the 
observance  of  six  weeks.  They  therefore  fast 
for  six  days  out  of  the  seven,  and  this  being 
six  times  repeated  makes  up  the  six  and  thirty 
days.  It  is  therefore,  as  we  said,  but  one 
system  and  the  same  manner  of  the  fast,  al- 
though there  seems  to  be  a  difference  in  the 
number  of  the  weeks. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

Why  it  is  called  Quadragesima,  when  the  fast  is  only  kept  for 
thirty-six  days. 

But  further,  as  man's  carelessness  dropped 
out  of  sight  the  reason  of  this,  this  season 
when,  as  was  said,  the  tithes  of  the  year  are 
offered  by  fasts  for  thirty-six  days  and  a  half, 
was  called  Quadragesima,2  a  name  which  per- 


1  Ps.  cxviii.  (cxix.)  147,  14S  ;  lxxxvii.  (lxxxviii.)  14. 


2  Cassian  here  gives  three  suggestions  why  the  fast  of  thirty-six 
days'  duration  was  called  Quadragesima.  (1)  As  roughly  corres- 
ponding to  the  forty  days  fast  of  Moses,  Elijah,  and  the  Lord  Him- 
self; (2)  because  "  forty  "  is  the  number  associated  with  a  time  of 
probation  in  Scripture ;  and  (3")  because  of  the  analogy  of  a  legal 
tribute  of  "  Quadragesima"  paid  to  the  Sovereign.  It  is  certainly 
a  curious  and  difficult  question  why  the  name  Quadragesima  should 
have  been  so  universally  applied  to  the  fast,  when  there  is  no  evi- 
dence of  its  having  been  kept  for  forty  days  till  sometime  after  the 
date  of  Gregory  the  Great,  when  Ash  Wednesday  and  the  three  fol- 
lowing days  were  prefixed  to  the  six  weeks  expressly  for  the  purpose 
of  making  up  the  number  forty.     The  nanie  however,  had  as  we 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   THEONAS. 


515 


haps  they  thought  ought  to  be  given  to  it  for 
this  reason;  viz.,  that  it  is  said  that  Moses 
and  Elijah  and  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  Himself 
fasted  for  forty  days.  To  the  mystery  of  which 
number  are  not  unsuitably  applied  those  forty 
years  in  which  Israel  dwelt  in  the  wilderness, 
and  in  like  manner  the  forty  stations  which 
they  are  said  to  have  passed  through  with  a 
mystic  meaning.  Or  perhaps  the  tithe  was 
properly  given  the  name  of  Quadragesima 
from  the  use  of  the  custom-house.  For  so 
that  state  tax  is  commonly  called,  from  which 
the  same  proportion  of  the  increment  is  as- 
signed for  the  king's  use,  as  the  legal  tribute 
of  Quadragesima,  which  is  required  of  us  by 
the  King  of  all  the  ages  for  the  use  of  our  life. 
At  any  rate,  although  this  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  question  raised,  yet  I  think  that  I 
ought  not  to  omit  the  fact  that  very  often  our 
elders  used  to  testify  that  especially  on  these 
days  the  whole  body  of  monks  was  attacked 
according  to  the  ancient  custom  of  the  people 
opposed  to  them,  and  was  more  vehemently 
urged  to  forsake  their  homes,  for  this  reason, 
because  in  accordance  with  this  figure,  whereby 
the  Egyptians  formerly  oppressed  the  children 
of  Israel  with  grievous  afflictions,  so  now  also 
the  spiritual  Egyptians  try  to  bow  down  the 
true  Israel,  i.e.,  the  monastic  folk,  with  hard 
and  vile  tasks,  lest  by  means  of  that  peace 
which  is  dear  to  God,  we  should  forsake  the 
land  of  Egypt,  and  for  our  good  cross  to  the 
desert  of  virtues,  so  that  Pharaoh  rages 
against  us  and  says :  "  They  are  idle  and  there- 
fore they  cry  saying :  Let  us  go  and  sacrifice  to 
the  Lord  our  God.  Let  them  be  oppressed 
with  labours,  and  be  harassed  in  their  works, 
and  they  shall  not  be  harassed  by  vain  words. "  1 
For  certainly  their  folly  imagines  that  the  holy 
sacrifice  of  the  Lord,  which  is  only  offered  in 
the  desert  of  a  pure  heart,  is  the  height  of 
folly,  for  "religion  is  an  abomination  to  a 
sinner."  2 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

How  those  who  are  perfect  go  beyond  the  fixed  rule  of  Lent. 

By  this  law  of  Lent  then  the  man  who  is 
upright  and  perfect  is  not  restrained  nor  is  he 
content  with  merely  submitting  to  that  paltry 
rule  which  the  heads  of  the  church  have  estab- 


see  from  .Socrates,  Sozomen,  Cassian  himself,  and  many  other 
writers,  existed  long  before  this;  and  on  the  whole  it  appears  proba- 
ble that  it  originated  in  none  of  the  reasons  given  above  by  Cassian, 
but  that  in  the  first  instance  it  was  connected  "  with  the  period  dur- 
ing which  our  Lord  yielded  to  the  power  of  death,  which  was 
estimated  at  forty  hours  ;  viz.,  from  noon  on  Friday  till  4  a.m.  on 
Sunday."  See  Dictionary  of  Christian  Antiquities,  Vol.  ii.  p.  973  ; 
and  cf.  Irenseus  Ep.  ad  Victor,  in  Euseb.  V.  xxiv.;  and  Tertullian 
De  Orat.  c.  18;  and  De  Jejuniis  c.  ii.  and  xiii. 

1  Exod.  v.  8,  9.  2  Ecclus.  1.  24. 


lished  for  those  who  all  the  year  round  are 
involved  in  pleasure  or  business,  that  they 
may  be  bound  by  this  legal  requirement  and 
forced  at  any  rate  during  these  days  to  find 
time  for  the  Lord,  and  dedicate  to  Him  the 
tithe  of  the  days  of  their  life,  all  of  which 
they  would  have  consumed  as  their  profits. 
But  the  righteous,  for  whom  the  law  is  not 
appointed,  and  who  devote  to  spiritual  duties 
not  a  small  part;  viz.,  the  tenth,  but  the  whole 
time  of  their  life,  because  they  are  free  from 
the  burden  of  tithes  according  to  law,  for  this 
reason,  if  any  worthy  and  pious  occasion  hap- 
pening to  them  constrains  them,  are  ready  to 
relax  their  station  fast3  without  any  hesita- 
tion. For  in  their  case  it  is  no  paltry  tithe 
that  is  diminished,  as  they  offer  all  that 
they  have  to  the  Lord  equally  with  themselves. 
And  this  certainly  a  man  could  not  do  without 
being  guilty  of  a  grievous  wrong,  who,  offer- 
ing nothing  of  his  own  free  will  to  God,  is 
forced  to  pay  his  tithes  by  the  stern  compul- 
sion of  the  law  which  takes  no  excuse. 
Wherefore  it  is  clearly  established  that  the 
servant  of  the  law  cannot  be  perfect,  who  only 
shuns  those  things  which  are  forbidden  and 
does  those  things  which  are  commanded,  but 
that  those  are  really  perfect  who  do  not  take 
advantage  even  of  those  things  which  the  law 
allows.  And  in  this  way,  though  it  is  said  of 
the  Mosaic  law  that  "the  law  brought  nothing 
to  perfection," 4  we  read  that  some  of  the 
saints  in  the  Old  Testament  were  perfect 
because  they  went  beyond  the  commands  of 
the  law  and  lived  under  the  perfection  of  the 
Gospel :  "  Knowing  that  the  law  is  not  ap- 
pointed for  the  righteous  but  for  the  un- 
righteous and  disobedient,  for  the  ungodly  and 
sinners,  for  the  wicked  and  defiled,  etc."5 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

Of  the  origin  and  beginning  of  Lent. 

Howbeit  you  should  know  that  as  long  as 
the  primitive  church  retained  its  perfection 
unbroken,  this  observance  of  Lent  did  not 
exist.  For  they  were  not  bound  by  the  re- 
quirements of  this  order,  or  by  any  legal 
enactments,  nor  confined  in  the  very  narrow 
limits  of  the  fast,  as  the  fast  embraced  equally 
the  whole  year  round.  But  when  the  multi- 
tude of  believers  began  day  by  day  to  decline 
from  that  apostolic  fervour,  and  to  look  after 
their  own  wealth,  and  not  to  portion  it  out  for 
the  g;ood  of  all  the  faithful  in  accordance  with 


3  Statio.  Cf  Note  on  the  Institutes  V.  xxiv. 

4  Heb.  vii.  19.  5  1  Tim.  i.  9,  10. 


<U6 


b 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


the  arrangement  of  the  apostles,  but  having 
an  eye  to  their  own  private  expenses,  tried 
not  only  to  keep  it  but  actually  to  increase 
it,  not  content  with  following  the  example  of 
Ananias  and  Sapphira,  then  it  seemed  good 
to  all  the  priests  that  men  who  were  hampered 
by  worldly  cares,  and  almost  ignorant,  if  I 
may  say  so,  of  abstinence  and  contrition, 
should  be  recalled  to  the  pious  duty  by  a  fast 
canonically  enjoined,  and  be  constrained  by 
the  necessity  of  paying  the  legal  tithes,  as  this 
certainly  would  be  good  for  the  weak  brethren 
and  could  not  do  any  harm  to  the  perfect  who 
were  living  under  the  grace  of  the  gospel  and 
by  their  voluntary  devotion  going  beyond  the 
law,  so  as  to  succeed  in  attaining  to  the 
blessedness  which  the  Apostle  speaks  of : 
"  For  sin  shall  not  have  dominion  over  you ; 
for  ye  are  not  under  the  law  but  under 
grace."1  For  of  a  truth  sin  cannot  exercise 
dominion  over  one  who  lives  faithfully  under 
the  liberty  of  grace. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

A  question,  how  we  ought  to  understand  the  Apostle's  words: 
"  Sin  shall  not  have  dominion  over  you." 

Germanus  :  Because  this  saying  of  the 
Apostle,  which  promises  freedom  from  care 
not  only  to  monks  but  to  all  Christians  in 
general,  cannot  lead  us  wrong,  it  seems  to  us 
somewhat  obscure.  For  whereas  he  maintains 
that  all  those  who  believe  the  gospel  are  at 
liberty  and  free  from  the  yoke  and  dominion 
of  sin,  how  is  it  that  the  dominion  of  sin  holds 
vigorous  sway  over  almost  all  the  baptized, 
in  accordance  with  the  Lord's  words,  where 
He  says:  "Every  one  that  doeth  sin  is  the 
servant  of  sin  "  ? 2 


one  who  has  not  laid  the  foundation  by  a 
similar  study  and  training.  And  therefore  I 
think  it  necessary  for  us  first  to  inquire  some- 
what carefully  what  is  the  purpose  or  mean- 
ing of  the  law,  and  what  is  tire  system  and 
perfection  of  grace,  that  from  this  wc  may 
succeed  in  understanding  the  dominion  of  sin 
and  how  to  drive  it  out.  And  so  the  law 
chiefly  commands  men  to  seek  the  bonds  of 
wedlock,  saying:  ''Blessed  is  he  that  hath 
seed  in  Sion  and  an  household  in  Jerusalem  ;  "  3 
and:  "Cursed  is  the  barren  that  hath  not 
borne."4  On  the  other  hand  grace  invites  us 
to  the  purity  of  perpetual  chastity,  and  the 
undefiled  state  of  blessed  virginity,  saying: 
"  Blessed  are  the  barren,  and  the  breasts  which 
have  not  given  suck;"  and:  "he  that  hateth 
not  father  and  mother  and  wife  cannot  be  my 
disciple;"  and  this  of  the  Apostle:  "It  re- 
maineth    that    they   that    have    wives    be    as 

'though  they  had  them  not."  5  The  law  says: 
"  Thou  shalt  not  delay  to  offer  thy  tithes  and 

j  firstfruits  ; "  grace  says:  "If  thou  wilt  be 
perfect,    go    and  sell   all  that  thou  hast  and 

I  give  to  the  poor."0  The  law  forbids  not  re- 
taliation for  wrongs  and  vengeance  for  inju- 
ries, saying:  "An  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth 
for  a  tooth."  Grace  would  have  our  patience 
proved  by  the  injuries  and  blows  offered  to 
us  being  redoubled,  and  bids  us  be  ready  to 
endure  twice  as  much  damage;  saying:  "If  a 
man  strike  thee  on  one  cheek,  offer  him  the 
other  also;  and  to  him  who  will  contend  with 
thee  at  the  law  and  take  away  thy  coat,  give 
him  thy  cloak  also.'1 7  The  one  decrees  that 
we  should  hate  our  enemies,  the  other  that  we 
should  love  them  so  that  it  holds  that  even  for 
them  we  ought  always  to  pray  to  God. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

The  answer  on  the  difference  between  grace  and  the  commands 
of  the  law. 

Theonas  :  Your  inquiry  once  more  raises  J 
before  us  a  question  of  no  small  extent.  The 
explanation  of  which  though  I  know  that  it 
cannot  be  taught  to  or  understood  by  the  in- 
experienced, yet  as  far  as  I  can,  I  will  try  to 
set  forth  in  words  and  briefly  to  explain,  if 
only  your  minds  will  follow  up  and  act  upon 
what  we  say.  For  whatever  is  known  not  by  | 
teaching  but  by  experience,  just  as  it  cannot 
be  taught  by  one  without  experience,  so  neither 
can  it  be  grasped  or  taken  in  by  the  mind  of 


1  Rom.  vi.  14. 


2  S.  John  viii.  34. 


Of  the  fact  that  the  precepts  of  the  gospel  are  milder  than 
those  of  the  law. 

Whoever  therefore  climbs  this  height  of 
evangelical  perfection,  is  at  once  raised  by 
the  merits  of  such  virtue  above  every  law,  and 
disregarding  as  trivial  all  that  is  commanded 
by  Moses,  recognizes  that  he  is  only  subject 
to  the  grace  of  the  Saviour,  by  whose  aid  he 
knows  that  he  attained  to  that  most  exalted 
condition.  Therefore  sin  has  no  dominion 
over  him,  "because  the  love  of  God,  which 
is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  which  is  given  to  us,"8  shuts  out  all 


3  Isa    xxxi.  9  dxx.). 

5  S.  Luke  xxiii.  29;  xiv.  26;   1  Cor. 

0  Exod.  xxii.  29;   S.  Matt.  xix.  21. 

7  Exod.  xxi.  24;  S.  Matt.  v.  39,  40. 


Cf.  Job  xxiv.  21 


FIRST    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   THEONAS. 


517 


care  for  everything  else,  and  can  neither 
desire  what  is  forbidden,  or  disregard  what  is 
commanded,  as  its  whole  aim  and  all  its 
desire  is  ever  fixed  on  divine  love,  and  to 
such  an  extent  is  it  not  caught  by  the  delights 
of  worthless  things,  that  it  actually  does  not 
take  advantage  of  those  things  which  are  per- 
mitted. But  under  the  law,  where  lawful 
marriages  are  observed,  although  the  rovings 
of  wantonness  are  restrained,  and  bound  down 
to  one  woman  alone,  yet  the  pricks  of  car- 
nal lust  cannot  help  being  vigorous;  and 
it  is  hard  for  the  fire,  for  which  fuel  is  ex- 
pressly supplied,  to  be  thus  shut  in  within  pre- 
arranged limits,  so  as. not  to  spread  further 
and  burn  up  anything  it  touches.  As  even  if 
this  objection  occurs  to  it  that  it  is  not  al- 
lowed to  be  kindled  beyond  these  limits,  yet 
even  while  it  is  kept  in  check,  it  is  on  fire 
because  the  will  itself  is  in  fault,  and  its  habit 
of  carnal  intercourse  hurries  it  into  too  speedy 
excesses  of  adultery.  But  those  whom  the 
grace' of  the  Saviour  has  fired  with  the  holy 
love  of  chastity,  so  consume  all  the  thorns 
of  carnal  desires  in  the  fire  of  the  Lord's  love, 
that  no  dying  embers  of  sin  interfere  with  the 
coldness  of  their  purity.  The  servants  of 
the  law  then  from  the  use  of  lawful  things 
fall  away  to  unlawful ;  the  partakers  of  grace 
while  they  disregard  lawful  things  know  no- 
thing of  unlawful  ones.  But  as  sin  is  alive 
in  one  who  loves  marriage,  so  is  it  also 
in  one  who  is  satisfied  with  merely  paying 
his  tithes  and  firstfruits.  For,  while  he  is 
dawdling  or  careless,  he  is  sure  to  sin  in  re- 
gard to  either  their  quality  or  quantity,  or  the 
daily  distribution  of  them.  For  as  he  is 
commanded  unweariedly  to  minister  to  those 
in  want  of  what  is  his,  although  he  may  dis- 
pense it  with  the  fullest  faith  and  devotion, 
yet  it  is  hard  for  him  not  to  fall  often  into 
the  snares  of  sin.  But  over  those  who  have 
not  set  at  naught  the  counsel  of  the  Lord,  but 
who,  disposing  of  all  their  property  to  the 
poor,  take  up  their  cross  and  follow  the  be- 
stower  of  grace,  sin  can  have  no  dominion. 
For  no  faithless  anxiety  for  getting  food  will 
annoy  him  who  piously  distributes  and  dis- 
perses his  wealth  already  consecrated  to  Christ 
and  no  longer  regarded  as  his  own ;  nor  will 
any  grudging  hesitation  take  away  from  the 
cheerfulness  of  his  almsgiving,  because  with- 
out any  thought  of  his  own  needs  or  fear  of 
his  own  food  running  short  he  is  distributing 
what  has  once  for  all  been  completely  offered 
to  God,  and  is  no  longer  regarded  as  his  own, 
as  he  is  sure  that  when  he  has  succeeded  in 
stripping  himself  as  he  desires,  he  will  be  fed 
by  God  much  more  than  the  birds  of  the  air. 
On  the  other  hand  he  who  retains  his  goods 


of  this  world,  or,  bound  by  the  rules  of  the 
old  law,  distributes  the  tithe  of  his  produce, 
and  his  firstfruits,  or  a  portion  of  his  income, 
although  he  may  to  a  considerable  degree 
quench  the  fire  of  his  sins  by  this  dew  of 
almsgiving,  yet,  however  generously  he  gives 
away  his  wealth,  it  is  impossible  for  him 
altogether  to  rid  himself  of  the  dominion  of 
sin,  unless  perhaps  by  the  grace  of  the  Saviour, 
together  with  his  substance  he  gets  rid  of  all 
love  of  possessing.  In  the  same  way  he  can- 
not fail  to  be  subject  to  the  bloody  sway  of 
sin,  whoever  chooses  to  pull  out,  as  the  law 
commands,  an  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a 
tooth,  or  to  hate  his  enemy,  for  while  he 
desires  by  retaliation  in  exchange  to  avenge 
an  injury  done  to  himself,  and  while  he  che- 
rishes bitter  hatred  against  an  enemy,  he  is 
sure  always  to  be  inflamed  with  the  passion 
of  anger  and  rage.  But  whoever  lives  under 
the  light  of  the  grace  of  the  gospel,  and  over- 
comes evil  by  not  resisting  it,  but  by  bearing 
it,  and  does  not  hesitate  of  his  own  free  will 
to  give  to  one  who  smites  his  right  cheek,  the 
other  also,  and  to  one  who  wants  to  raise  a 
lawsuit  against  him  for  his  coat,  gives  his 
cloak  also,  and  who  loves  his  enemies,  and 
prays  for  those  who  slander  him,  this  man  has 
broken  the  yoke  of  sin  and  burst  its  chains. 
For  he  is  not  living  under  the  law,  which  does 
not  destroy  the  seeds  of  sin  (whence  not  with- 
out reason  the  Apostle  says  of  it:  "There  is 
a  setting  aside  of  the  former  commandment 
because  of  the  weakness  and  unprofitableness 
thereof :  for  the  law  brought  nothing  to  perfec- 
tion;" and  the  Lord  says  by  the  prophet: 
"And  I  gave  them  commands  that  were  not 
good,  and  ordinances,  whereby  they  could 
not  live"1),  but  under  grace  which  does  not 
merely  lop  off  the  boughs  of  wickedness,  but 
actually  tears  up  the  very  roots  of  an  evil 
will. 

CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

How  a  man  can  be  shown  to  be  under  grace. 

Whoever  then  strives  to  reach  the  perfec- 
tion of  evangelical  teaching,  this  man  living 
under  grace  is  not  oppressed  by  the  dominion 
of  sin,  for  to  be  under  grace  is  to  do  those 
things  which  grace  commands.  But  whoever 
will  not  submit  himself  to  the  complete  re- 
quirements of  evangelical  perfection,  must  not 
remain  ignorant  that,  although  he  seems  to  be 
baptized  and  to  be  a  monk,  yet  he  is  not  under 
grace,  but  is  still  shackled  by  the  chains  of 
the  law,  and  weighed  down  by  the  burden  of 
sin.      For  it  is  the  aim  of  Him,  who  by  the 


1  Heb.  vii.  18,  19;  Ezek.  xx.  25. 


5i8 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


grace  of  adoption  accepts  all  those  by  whom 
He  has  been  received,  not  to  destroy  but  to 
build  upon,  not  to  abolish  but  to  fulfil  the 
Mosaic  requirements.  But  some  knowing 
nothing  about  this,  and  disregarding  the  splen- 
did counsels  and  exhortations  of  Christ,  are  so 
emancipated  by  the  carelessness  of  a  freedom 
too  hastily  assumed,  that  they  not  only  fail  to 
carry  out  the  commands  of  Christ  as  if  they 
were  too  hard,  but  actually  scorn  as  anti- 
quated, the  commands  given  to  them  as  begin- 
ners and  children  by  the  law  of  Moses,  saying 
in  this  dangerous  freedom  of  theirs  that  which 
the  Apostle  execrates :  "  We  have  sinned, 
because  we  are  not  under  the  law  but  under 
grace."  x  He  then  who  is  neither  under  grace, 
because  he  has  never  climbed  the  heights  of 
the  Lord's  teaching,  nor  under  the  law,  be- 
cause he  has  not  accepted  even  those  small 
commands  of  the  law,  this  man,  ground  down 
beneath  a  twofold  rule  of  sin,  fancies  that  he 
has  received  the  grace  of  Christ,  simply  and 
solely  for  this,  that  by  this  dangerous  liberty 
of  his  he  may  make  himself  none  of  His,  and 
falls  into  that  state,  which  the  Apostle  Peter 
warns  us  to  avoid,  saying:  "Act  as  free,  and 
not  having  your  liberty  as  a  cloak  of  wicked- 
ness." The  blessed  Apostle  Paul  also  says: 
"  For  ye,  brethren,  were  called  to  liberty,"  i.e., 
that  ye  might  be  free  from  the  dominion  of 
sin,  "only  use  not  your  liberty  for  an  occasion 
of  the  flesh,"  '2  i.e.,  believe  that  the  doing 
away  with  the  commands  of  the  law  is  a 
licence  to  sin.  But  this  liberty,  the  Apostle 
Paul  teaches  us  is  nowhere  but  where  the  Lord 
is  dwelling,  for  he  says:  "The  Lord  is  the 
Spirit,  but  where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is 
there  is  liberty."3  Wherefore  I  know  not 
whether  I  could  express  and  explain  the 
meaning  of  the  blessed  Apostle,  as  those  know 
how,  who  have  experience;  one  thing  I  do 
know,  that  it  is  very  clearly  revealed  even 
without  anyone's  explanation  to  all  those  who 
have  perfectly  acquired  nguxuxri,  i.e.,  practi- 
cal training.  For  they  will  need  no  effort  to 
understand  in  discussion  what  they  have 
already  learnt  by  practice. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

A  question,  why  sometimes  when  we  are  fasting  more  strictly 
than  usual,  we  are  troubled  by  carnal  desires  more  keenly 
than  usual. 

Germanus  :  You  have  very  clearly  explained 
a  most  difficult  question,  and  one  which,  as 
we  think,  is  unknown  to  many.  Wherefore 
we  pray  you  to  add  this  also  for  our  good,  and 


Rom. 


Pet.  ii.  16;  Gal.  v.  13. 


2  Cor.  iii.  17. 


carefully  to  expound  why  sometimes  when  we 
are  fasting  more  strictly  than  usual,  and  are 
exhausted  and  worn  out,  severer  bodily  strug- 
gles are  excited.  For  often  on  waking  from 
sleep,  when  we  have  discovered  that  we  have 
been  defiled4  we  are  so  dejected  in  heart  that 
we  do  not  even  venture  faithfully  to  rise  even 
for  prayer. 

CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

The  answer,  telling  that  this  question  should  be  reserved  for  a 
future  Conference. 

Theonas:  Your  zeal  indeed,  whereby  you 
desire  to  reach  the  way  of  perfection,  not  for 
a  moment  only  but  fully  and  perfectly,  urges 
us  to  continue  this  discussion  unweariedly. 
For  you  are  anxiously  inquiring  not  about 
external  chastity  or  outward  circumcision,  but 
about  that  which  is  secret,  as  you  know  that 
complete  perfection  does  not  consist  in  this 
visible  continence  of  the  flesh  which  can  be 
attained  either  by  constraint,  or  by  hypocrisy 
even  by  unbelievers,  but  in  that  voluntary  and 
invisible  purity  of  heart,  which  the  blessed 
Apostle  describes  as  follows:  "For  he  is  not 
a  Jew  which  is  so  outwardly,  nor  is  that  cir- 
cumcision which  is  outward  in  the  flesh,  but 
he  is  a  Jew  which  is  one  inwardly,  and  the  cir- 
cumcision is  that  of  the  heart,  in  the  spirit  rot 
in  the  letter,  whose  praise  is  not  of  men  but 
of  God,"  5  who  alone  searches  the  secrets  of  the 
heart.  But  because  it  is  not  possible  for  your 
wish  to  be  fully  satisfied  (as  the  short  space  of 
the  night  that  is  left  is  not  enough  for  the  in- 
vestigation of  this  most  difficult  question,) 
I  think  it  well  to  postpone  it  for  a  while.  For 
these  matters,  as  they  should  be  propounded 
by  us  quietly  and  with  an  heart  entirely  free 
from  all  bustling  thoughts,  so  should  they  be 
received  into  your  minds;  for  just  as  the  in- 
quiry ought  to  be  undertaken  for  the  sake  of 
our  common  purity,  so  they  cannot  be  learnt 
or  acquired  by  one  who  is  without  the  gift  of 
uprightness.  For  we  do  not  ask  what  argu- 
ments of  empty  words,  but  what  the  inward 
faith  of  the  conscience  and  the  greater  force 
of  truth  can  persuade.  And  therefore  with 
regard  to  the  knowledge  and  teaching  of  this 
purification  nothing  can  be  brought  forward 
except  by  one  who  has  had  experience  of  it, 
nor  can  anything  be  committed  except  to  one 
who  is  a  most  eager  and  very  earnest  lover  of 
the  truth  itself,  who  does  not  hope  to  attain  it 
by  asking  questions  with  mere  vain  words,  but 
by  striving  with  all  his  might  and  main,  with 
no  wish  for  useless  chattering  but  with  the 
desire  to  purify  himself  internally. 


4  Cum  deprehenderimusnos  sordidi  liquoris  contagius  pertulisse. 

5  Rom.  ii.  2S,  29. 


SECOND    AND    THIRD    CONFERENCES    OF    ABBOT   THEONAS.     519 


XXII. 

THE  SECOND  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  THEONAS. 

ON  NOCTURNAL   ILLUSIONS. 
This  Conference   is  omitted. 


XXIII. 
THE  THIRD  CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  THEONAS. 


ON  SLNLESSNESS. 


CHAPTER    I. 


Discourse  of  Abbot  Theonas  on  the  Apostle's  words  : 
do  not  the  good  which  I  would." 


Fori 


At  the  return  of  light  therefore,  as  the  old 
man  was  forced  by  our  intense  urgency  to  in- 
vestigate the  depths  of  the  Apostle's  subject, 
he  spoke  as  follows :  As  for  the  passages  by 
which  you  try  to  prove  that  the  Apostle  Paul 
spoke  not  in  his  own  person  but  in  that  of 
sinners:  "  For  I  do  not  the  good  that  I  would, 
but  the  evil  which  I  hate,  that  I  do;"  or 
this :  "  But  if  I  do  that  which  I  would  not,  it 
is  no  longer  I  that  do  it  but  sin  that  dwelleth 
in  me;"  or  what  follows:  "Fori  delight  in 
the  law  of  God  after  the  inner  man,  but  I  see 
another  law  in  my  members  opposing  the  law 
of  my  mind,  and  bringing  me  into  captivity 
to  the  law  of  sin  which  is  in  my  members;  "  x 
these  passages  on  the  contrary  plainly  show 
that  they  cannot  possibly  fit  the  person  of 
sinners,  but  that  what  is  said  can  only  apply 
to  those  that  are  perfect,  and  that  it  only  suits 
the  chastity  of  those  who  follow  the  good 
example  of  the  Apostles.  Else  how  could 
these  words  apply  to  the  person  of  sinners : 
"For  I  do  not  the  good  which  I  would,  but 
the  evil  which  I  hate  that  I  do "  ?  or  even 
this:  "But  if  I  do  what  I  would  not  it  is  no 
longer  I  that  do  it  but  sin  that  dwelleth  in 
me  "  ?     For  what  sinner  defiles  himself  unwil- 

1  Rom.  vii.  18,  sq. 


lingly  by  adulteries  and  fornication?  Who 
against  his  will  prepares  plots  against  his 
neighbour?  Who  is  driven  by  unavoidable 
necessity  to  oppress  a  man  by  false  witness  or 
cheat  him  by  theft,  or  covet  the  goods  of 
another  or  shed  his  blood?  Nay  rather,  as 
Scripture  says,  "Mankind  is  diligently  in- 
clined to  wickedness  from  his  youth."2  For 
to  such  an  extent  are  all  inflamed  by  the  love 
of  sin  and  desire  to  carry  out  what  they  like, 
that  they  actually  look  out  with  watchful  care 
for  an  opportunity  of  committing  wickedness 
and  are  afraid  of  being  too  slow  to  enjoy 
their  lusts,  and  glory  in  their  shame  and  the 
mass  of  their  crimes,  as  the  Apostle  says  in 
censure,3  and  seek  credit  for  themselves  out 
of  their  own  confusion,  of  whom  also  the 
prophet  Jeremiah  maintains  that  they  commit 
their  flagitious  crimes  not  only  not  unwil- 
lingly nor  with  ease  of  heart  and  body,  but 
with  laborious  efforts  to  such  an  extent  that 
they  come  to  toil  to  carry  them  out,  so  that 
they  are  prevented  even  by  the  hindrance  of 
arduous  difficulty  from  their  deadly  quest  of 
sin ;  as  he  says :  "  They  have  laboured  to  do 
wickedly."4  Who  also  will  say  that  this 
applies  to  sinners:  "And  so  with  the  mind  I 
myself  serve  the  law  of  God,  but  with  the 
flesh  the  law  of  sin,"  as  it  is  plain  that  they 
serve  God  neither  with  the  mind  nor  the 
flesh?  Or  how  can  those  who  sin  with  the 
body  serve  God  with  the  mind,  when  the  flesh 


2  Gen.  viii.  21. 


3  Cf.  Phil 


4  Jer.  ix.  5. 


520 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


receives  the  incitement  to  sin  from  the  heart, 
and  the  Creator  of  either  nature  Himself  de- 
clares that  the  fount  and  spring  of  sin  flows 
from  the  latter,  saying :  "  From  the  heart  pro- 
ceed evil  thoughts,  adulteries,  fornications, 
thefts,  false  witness,  etc."1  Wherefore  it  is 
clearly  shown  that  this  cannot  in  any  way  be 
taken  of  the  person  of  sinners,  who  not  only 
do  not  hate,  but  actually  love  what  is  evil  and 
are  so  far  from  serving  God  with  either  the 
mind  or  the  flesh  that  they  sin  with  the  mind 
before  they  do  with  the  flesh,  and  before  they 
carry  out  the  pleasures  of  the  body  are  over- 
come by  sin  in  their  mind  and  thoughts. 


CHAPTER   II. 

How  the  Apostle  completed  many  good  actions. 

It  remains  therefore  for  us  to  measure  its 
meaning  and  drift  from  the  inmost  feelings  of 
the  speaker,  and  to  discuss  what  the  blessed 
Apostle  called  good,  and  what  he  pronounced 
by  comparison  evil,  not  by  the  bare  meaning 
of  the  words,  but  with  the  same  insight  which 
he  showed,  and  to  investigate  his  meaning 
with  due  regard  to  the  worth  and  goodness  of 
the  speaker.  For  then  we  shall  be  able  to 
understand  the  words,  which  were  uttered  by 
God's  inspiration,  in  accordance  with  his  pur- 
pose and  wish,  when  we  weigh  the  position 
and  character  of  those  by  whom  they  were 
spoken,  and  are  ourselves  clothed  with  the 
same  feelings  (not  in  words  but  by  experi- 
ence), in  accordance  with  the  character  of 
which  most  certainly  all  the  thoughts  are 
conceived  and  opinions  uttered.  Wherefore 
let  us  carefully  consider  what  was  in  the  main 
that  good  which  the  Apostle  could  not  do 
when  he  would.  For  we  know  that  there  are 
many  good  things  which  we  cannot  deny  that 
the  blessed  Apostle  and  all  men  as  good  as 
he  either  have  by  nature,  or  acquire  by  grace. 
For  chastity  is  good,  continence  is  praise- 
worthy, prudence  is  to  be  admired,  kindness 
is  liberal,  sobriety  is  careful,  temperance  is 
modest,  pity  is  kind,  justice  is  holy:  all  of 
which  we  cannot  doubt'  existed  fully  and  in 
perfection  in  the  Apostle  Paul  and  his  com- 
panions, so  that  they  taught  religion  by  the 
lesson  of  their  virtues  rather  than  their  words. 
What  if  they  were  always  consumed  with  the 
constant  care  of  all  the  churches  and  watchful 
anxiety?  How  great  a  good  is  this  pity,  what 
perfection  it  is  to  burn  for  them  that  are 
offended,  to  be  weak  with  the  weak! 2  If  then 
the  Apostle  abounded  with  such  good  things, 
we  cannot  recognize  what  that  good  was,    in 


1  S.  Matt.  xv. 


Cf.  2  Cor.  xi. 


the  perfection  of  which  the  Apostle  was  lack- 
ing, unless  we  have  advanced  to  that  state  of 
mind  in  which  he  was  speaking.  And  so  all 
those  virtues  which  we  say  that  he  possessed, 
though  they  are  like  most  splendid  and  pre- 
cious gems,  yet  when  they  are  compared  with 
that  most  beautiful  and  unique  pearl  which 
the  merchant  in  the  gospel  sought  and  wanted 
to  acquire  by  selling  all  that  he  possessed, 
so  does  their  value  seem  poor  and  trifling,  so 
that  if  they  are  without  hesitation  got  rid  of, 
the  possession  of  one  good  thing  alone  will 
enrich  the  man  who  sells  countless  good 
things. 

CPIAPTER    III. 

What  is  really  the  good  which  the  Apostle  testifies  that  he 
could  not  perform. 

What  then  is  that  one  thing  which  is  so 
incomparably  above  those  great  and  innu- 
merable good  things,  that,  while  they  are 
all  scorned  and  rejected,  it  alone  should  be 
acquired?  Doubtless  it  is  that  truly  good 
part,  the  grand  and  lasting  character  of  which 
is  thus  described  by  the  Lord,  when  Mary 
disregarded  the  duties  of  hospitality  and 
courtesy  and  chose  it:  "Martha,  Martha, 
thou  art  careful  and  troubled  about  many 
things :  but  there  is  but  need  of  but  few  things 
or  even  of  one  only.  Mary  hath  chosen  the 
good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from 
her."3  Contemplation  then,  i.e.,  meditation 
on  God,  is  the  one  thing,  the  value  of  which 
all  the  merits  of  our  righteous  acts,  all  our 
aims  at  virtue,  come  short  of.  And  all  those 
things  which  we  said  existed  in  the  Apostle 
Paul,  were  not  only  good  and  useful,  but  even 
great  and  splendid.  Put  as,  for  example,  the 
metal  of  alloy  which  is  considered  of  some 
use  and  worth,  becomes  worthless  when  silver 
is  taken  into  account,  and  again  the  value  of 
silver  disappears  in  comparison  with  gold, 
and  gold  itself  is  disregarded  when  compared 
with  precious  stones,  and  yet  a  quantity  of 
precious  stones  however  splendid  are  outdone 
by  the  brightness  of  a  single  pearl,  so  all 
those  merits  of  holiness,  although  they  are  not 
merely  good  and  useful  for  the  present  life, 
but  also  secure  the  gift  of  eternity,  yet  if  they 
are  compared  with  the  merit  of  Divine  con- 
templation, will  be  considered  trifling  and  so 
to  speak,  fit  to  be  sold.  And  to  support  this 
illustration  by  the  authority  of  Scripture,  does 
not  Scripture' declare  of  all  things  in  general 
which  were  created  by  God,  and  say:  ''And 
behold  everything  that  God  had  made  was 
very  good;"    and    again:    "And    things   that 


3  S.  Luke  x.  41,  42.     Cf.  the  note  on  I.  viii. 


THIRD    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   THEONAS. 


521 


God  hath  made  are  ail  good  in  their  season  "  ? a 
These  things  then  which  in  the  present  time 
are  termed  not  simply  and  solely  good,  but 
emphatically  "  very  good  "  (for  they  are  really 
convenient  for  us  while  living  in  this  world, 
either  for  purposes  of  life,  or  for  remedies  for 
the  body,  or  by  reason  of  some  unknown  use- 
fulness, or  else  they  are  indeed  "very  good," 
because  they  enable  us  "to  see  the  invisible 
things  of  God  from  the  creatures  of  the  world, 
being  understood  by  the  things  that  are  made, 
even  His  eternal  power  and  Godhead,"  "  from 
this  great  and  orderly  arrangement  of  the 
fabric  of  the  world;  and  to  contemplate  them 
from  the  existence  of  everything  in  it),  yet 
none  of  these  things  will  keep  the  name  of 
good  if  they  are  regarded  in  the  light  of  that 
world  to  come,  where  no  variation  of  good 
things,  and  no  loss  of  true  blessedness  need 
be  feared.  The  bliss  of  which  world  is  thus 
described:  "The  light  of  the  moon  shall  be 
as  the  light  of  the  sun,  and  the  light  of  the 
sun  shall  be  sevenfold  as  the  light  of  seven 
days."3  These  things  then  which  are  great 
and  wondrous  to  be  gazed  on,  and  marvellous, 
will  at  once  appear  as  vanity  if  they  are  com- 
pared with  the  future  promises  from  faith ;  as 
David  says:  "They  all  shall  wax  old  as  a  gar- 
ment, and  as  a  vesture  shall  Thou  change 
them,  and  they  shall  be  changed.  But  Thou 
art  the  sams,  and  Thy  years  shall  not  fail."  4 
Because  then  there  is  nothing  of  itself  endur- 
ing, nothing;  unchangeable,  nothing  good  but 
Deity  alone,  while  every  creature,  to  obtain 
the  blessing  of  eternity  and  immutability,  aims 
at  this  not  by  its  own  nature  but  by  participa- 
tion of  its  Creator,  and  His  grace,  they  cannot 
maintain  their  character  for  goodness  when 
compared  with  their  Creator. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

How   man's   goodness   and    righteousness   are    not    good    if 
compared  with  the  goodness  and  righteousness  of  God. 

But  if  we  want  also  to  establish  the  force 
of  this  opinion  by  still  clearer  proofs,  is  it 
not  the  case  that  while  we  read  of  many  things 
as  called  good  in  the  gospel,  as  a  good  tree, 
and  good  treasure,  and  a  good  man,  and  a 
good  servant,  for  He  says :  "  A  good  tree  can- 
not bring  forth  evil  fruit ;  "  and  :  "  a  good  man 
out  of  the  good  treasure  of  his  heart  brings 
forth  good  things;"  and:  "Well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant ;  "  5  and  certainly  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  none  of  these  are  good  in 
themselves,  yet  if  we  take  into  consideration 
the  goodness  of  God,   none  of  them  will  be 


1  Gen.  i.  31  ;   Ecclus.  xxxi:;.  16. 

2  Rom.  i.  20. 

5  S.  Matt.  vii.  iS;  xii.  35;  xxv.  21. 


3  Isa.  xxx.  26. 

*  Ps.  ci.  (cii.)  27,  2S. 


called  good,  as  the  Lord  says:*  "None  is  good 
save  God  alone"  ?  6  In  whose  sight  even  the 
apostles  themselves,  who  in  the  excellence  cf 
their  calling  in  many  ways  went  beyond  the 
goodness  of  mankind,  are  said  to  be  evil,  as 
the  Lord  thus  speaks  to  them:  "If  ye  then 
being  evil  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  to 
your  children,  how  much  more  shall  your 
Father  which  is  in  heaven  give  gccd  things  to 
them  that  ask  Him."7  Finally  as  our  good- 
ness turns  to  badness  in  the  eyes  of  the  High- 
est so  also  our  righteousness  when  set  against 
the  Divine  righteousness  is  considered  like  a 
menstruous  cloth,  as  Isaiah  the  prophet  says: 
"All  your  righteousness  is  like  a  menstruous 
cloth."8  And  to  produce  something  still 
plainer,  even  the  vital  precepts  of  the  law 
itself,  which  are  said  to  have  been  "given  by 
angels  by  the  the  hand  of  a  mediator,"  and 
of  which  the  same  Apostle  says :  "  So  the  law 
indeed  is  holy  and  the  commandment  is  holy 
and  just  and  good,"  9  when  they  are  compared 
with  the  perfection  of  the  gospel  are  pro- 
nounced anything  but  good  by  the  Divine 
oracle:  for  He  says:  "And  I  gave  them  pre- 
cepts that  were  not  good,  and  ordinances 
whereby  they  should  not  live  in  them."  10  The 
Apostle  also  affirms  that  the  glory  of  the  law 
is  so  dimmed  by  the  light  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment that  he  declares  that  in  comparison  with 
the  splendour  of  the  gospel  it  is  not  to  be 
considered  glorious,  saying:  "For  even  that 
which  was  glorious  was  not  glorified  by  reason 
of  the  glory  that  excelleth."  u  And  Scripture 
keeps  up  this  comparison  on  the  other  side 
also,  i.e.,  in  weighing  the  merits  of  sinners, 
so  that  in  comparison  with  the  wicked  it  justi- 
fies those  who  have  sinned  less,  saying: 
"Sodom  is  justified  above  thee;"  and  again: 
"For  what  hath  thy  sister  Sodom  sinned?" 
and:  "The  rebellious  Israel  hath  justified  her 
soul  in  comparison  of  the  treacherous  Judah. "  12 
So  then  the  merits  of  all  the  virtues,  which  I 
enumerated  above,  though  in  themselves  they 
are  good  and  precious,  yet  become  dim  in 
comparison  of  the  brightness  of  contempla- 
tion. For  they  greatly  hinder  and  retard  the 
saints  who  are  taken  up  with  earthly  aims 
even  at  good  works,  from  the  contemplation 
of  that  sublime  good. 


CHAPTER   V. 

How  no  one  can  be  continually  intent  upon  that  highest  good. 

For  who,  when  "delivering  the  poor  from 
the  hand  of  them  that  are  too  strong  for  him, 


0  S.  Luke  xviii.  19.  ,J  Gal.  iii.  19  ;  Rom.  vii.  12. 

7  S.  Matt.  vii.  11.  I0  Ezek.  xx.  25. 

8  Isa.  Ixiv.  6.  n  2  Cor.  iii.  10. 
12  Ezek.  xvi.  52,  49;  Jer.  iii.  11. 


522 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


and  the  needy»  and  the  poor  from  them  that 
strip  him,"  who  when  "breaking  the  jaws  of 
the  wicked  and  snatching  their  prey  from  be- 
tween their  teeth,"  1  can  with  a  calm  mind 
regard  the  glory  of  the  Divine  Majesty  during 
the  actual  work  of  intervention?  Who  when 
ministering  support  to  the  poor,  or  when  re- 
ceiving with  benevolent  kindness  the  crowds 
that  come  to  him,  can  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  is  with  anxious  mind  perplexed  for 
the  wants  of  his  brethren,  contemplate  the 
vastness  of  the  bliss  on  high,  and  while  he  is 
shaken  by  the  troubles  and  cares  of  the  pres- 
ent life  look  forward  to  the  state  of  the  world 
to  come  with  an  heart  raised  above  the  stains 
of  earth?  Whence  the  blessed  David  when 
laying  down  that  this  alone  is  good  for  man, 
longs  to  cling  constantly  to  God,  and  says: 
"  It  is  good  for  me  to  cling  to  God,  and  to  put 
my  hope  in  the  Lord."  "  And  Ecclesiastes 
also  declares  that  this  cannot  be  done  without 
fault  by  any  of  the  saints,  and  says  :  "  For  there 
is  not  a  righteous  man  upon  earth,  that  doeth 
good  and  sinneth  not."  3  For  who,  even  if  he 
be  the  chief  of  all  righteous  and  holy  men,  can 
we  ever  think  could,  while  bound  in  the  chains 
of  this  life,  so  acquire  this  chief  good,  as  never 
to  cease  from  divine  contemplation,  or  be 
thought  to  be  drawn  away  by  earthly  thoughts 
even  for  a  short  time  from  Him  Who  alone 
is  good?  Who  ever  takes  no  care  for  food, 
none  for  clothing  or  other  carnal  things,  or 
when  anxious  about  receiving  the  brethren,  or 
change  of  place,  or  building  his  cell,  has 
never  desired  the  aid  of  man's  assistance, 
nor  when  harassed  by  scarcity  and  want  has 
incurred  this  sentence  of  reproof  from  the 
Lord:  "  Be  not  anxious  for  your  life  what  ye 
shall  eat,  nor  for  your  body  what  ye  shall  put 
on "  ?  4  Further  we  confidently  assert  that 
even  the  Apostle  Paul  himself  who  surpassed 
in  the  number  of  his  sufferings  the  toils  of  all 
the  saints,  could  not  possibly  fulfil  this,  as  he 
himself  testifies  to  the  disciples  in  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles :  "  Ye  yourselves  know  that 
these  hands  have  ministered  to  my  needs,  and 
to  the  needs  of  those  who  were  with  me,"  or 
when  in  writing  in  the  Thessalonians  he 
testifies  that  he  "  worked  in  labour  and  weari- 
ness night  and  day.''5  And  although  for 
this  there  were  great  rewards  for  his  merits 
prepared,  yet  his  mind,  however  holy  and 
sublime  it  might  be,  could  not  help  being 
sometimes  drawn  away  from  that  heavenly 
contemplation  by  its  attention  to  earthly 
labours.  Further,  when  he  saw  himself  en- 
riched with  such  practical  fruits,  and  on  the 

1  Ps.  xxxiv.  (xxxv.)  10;   Job  xxix.  tj.  *  S.  Matt.  vi.  23. 

2  Ps.  lxxii.  (lxxiii.)  2S.  •  B  Acts  xx.  34;  2  Thess.  iii.  8. 
=  Eccl.  vii.  21. 


other  hand  considered  in  his  heart  the  good 
of  meditation,  and  weighed  as  it  were  in  one 
scale  the  profit  of  all  these  labours  and  in  the 
other  the  delights  of  divine  contemplation, 
when  for  a  long  time  he  had  corrected  the 
balance  in  his  breast,  while  the  vast  rewards 
for  his  labours  delighted  him  on  one  side, 
and  on  the  other  the  desire  for  unity  with  and 
the  inseparable  companionship  of  Christ  in- 
clined him  to  depart  this  life,  at  last  in  his 
perplexity  he  cries  out  and  says :  "  What  I 
shall  choose  I  know  not.  For  I  am  in  a  strait 
betwixt  two,  having  a  desire  to  depart  and  to 
be  with  Christ,  for  it  were  much  better :  but 
to  abide  in  the  flesh  is  more  necessary  for 
your  sakes."  c  Though  then  in  many  ways  he 
preferred  this  excellent  good  to  all  the  fruits 
of  his  preaching,  yet  he  submits  himself  in 
consideration  of  love,  without  which  none  can 
gain  the  Lord;  and  for  their  sakes,  whom 
hitherto  he  had  soothed  with  milk  as  nourish- 
ment from  the  breasts  of  the  gospel,  does  not 
refuse  to  be  parted  from  Christ,  which  is  bad 
for  himself  though  useful  for  others.  For  he 
is  driven  to  choose  this  the  rather  by  that 
excessive  goodness  of  his  whereby  f6r  the  sal- 
vation of  his  brethren  he  is  ready,  were  it 
possible,  to  incur  even  the  last  evil  of  an 
Anathema.  "For  I  could  wish,"  he  says, 
"that  I  myself  were  Anathema  from  Christ  for 
my  brethren's  sake,  who  are  my  kinsmen  ac- 
cording to  the  flesh,  who  are  Israelites,"  7  i.e., 
I  could  wish  to  be  subject  not  only  to  tem- 
poral, but  even  to  perpetual  punishment,  if 
only  all  men,  were  it  possible,  might  enjoy 
the  fellowship  of  Christ:  for  I  am  sure  that 
the  salvation  of  all  would  be  better  for  Christ 
and  for  me  than  my  own.  That  then  the  Apostle 
might  perfectly  gain  this  chief  good,  i.e.,  to 
enjoy  the  vision  of  God  and  to  be  joined  con- 
tinually to  Christ,  he  was  ready  to  be  parted 
from  this  body,  which  as  it  is  feeble  and  hin- 
dered by  the  many  requirements  of  its  frailties 
cannot  help  separating  from  union  with  Christ: 
for  it  is  impossible  for  the  mind,  that  is  ha- 
rassed by  such  frequent  cares,  and  hampered 
by  such  various  and  tiresome  troubles,  always 
to  enjoy  the  Divine  vision.  For  what  aim  of 
the  saints  can  be  so  persistent,  what  purpose 
can  be  so  high  that  that  crafty  plotter  does 
not  sometimes  destroy  it  ?  Who  has  fre- 
quented the  recesses  of  the  desert  and  shunned 
intercourse  with  all  men  in  such  a  way  that 
he  never  trips  by  unnecessary  thoughts,  and 
by  looking  on  things  or  being  occupied  in 
earthly  actions  falls  away  from  that  contem- 
plation of  God,  which  truly  alone  is  good? 
Who  ever  could  preserve  such  fervour  of  spirit 


Phil.  i.  22-24. 


7  Rom.  ix.  3,  4. 


THIRD    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   THEONAS. 


52, 


as  not  sometimes  to  pass  by  roving  thoughts 
from  his  attention  to  prayer,  and  fall  away 
suddenly  from  heavenly  to  earthly  things? 
Which  of  us  (to  pass  over  other  times  of  wan- 
dering) even  at  the  very  moment  when  he 
raises  his  soul  in  prayer  to  God  on  high,  does 
not  fall  into  a  sort  of  stupor,  and  even  against 
his  will  offend  by  that  very  thing  from  which 
he  hoped  for  pardon  of  his  sins  ?  Who,  I  ask, 
is  so  alert  and  vigilant  as  never,  while  he  is 
singing  a  Psalm  to  God,  to  allow  his  mind  to 
wander  from  the  meaning  of  Scripture?  Who 
is  so  intimate  with  and  closely  joined  to  God, 
as  to  congratulate  himself  on  having  carried 
out  for  a  single  day  that  rule  of  the  Apostle's, 
whereby  he  bids  us  pray  without  ceasing?  1 
And  though  all  these  things  may  seem  to 
some,  who  are  involved  in  grosser  sins,  to  be 
trivial  and  altogether  foreign  to  sin,  yet  to 
those  who  know  the  value  of  perfection  a 
quantity  even  of  very  small  matters  becomes 
most  serious. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

How  those  who  think  that  they  are  without  sin  are  like  purblind 
people. 

As  if  we  were  to  suppose  that  two  men,  one 
of  whom  was  clear  sighted  with  perfect  vision, 
and  the  other,  one  whose  eyesight  was  ob- 
scured by  dimness  of  vision,  had  together 
entered  some  great  house  that  was  filled  with  a 
quantity  of  bundles,  instruments,  and  vessels, 
would  not  he,  whose  dullness  of  vision  pre- 
vented his  seeing  everything,  assert  that  there 
was  nothing  there  but  chests,  beds,  benches, 
tables,  and  whatever  met  the  fingers  of  one 
who  felt  them  rather  than  the  eyes  of  one  who 
saw  them,  while  on  the  other  hand  would  not 
the  other,  who  searched  out  what  was  hidden 
with  clear  and  bright  eyes,  declare  that  there 
were  there  many  most  minute  articles,  and 
what  could  scarcely  be  counted;  which  if  they 
were  ever  gathered  up  into  a  single  pile, 
would  by  their  number  equal  or  perhaps  ex- 
ceed the  size  of  those  few  things  which  the 
other  had  felt.  So  then  even  saints,  and,  if 
we  may  so  say,  men  who  see,  whose  aim  is  the 
utmost  perfection,  cleverly  detect  in  them- 
selves even  those  things  which  the  gaze  of  our 
mind  being  as  it  were  darkened  cannot  see, 
and  condemn  them  very  severely,  to  such  an  ex- 
tent that  those  who  have  not,  as  it  seems  to  our 
carelessness,  dimmed  the  whiteness  of  their 
body,  which  is  as  it  were  like  snow,  with  even 
the  slightest  spot  of  sin,  seem  to  themselves 
to  be  covered  with  many  stains,  if,  I  will  not 

1  Cf.  i  Thess.  v.  17. 


say  any  evil  or  vain  thoughts  creep  into  the 
doors  of  their  mind,  but  even  the  recollection 
of  a  Psalm  which  has  to  be  said  takes  off  the 
attention  of  the  kneeler  at  the  time  for  prayer. 
For  if,  say  they,  when  we  ask  some  great  man, 
I  will  not  say  for  our  life  and  salvation,  but 
for  some  advantage  and  profit,  we  fasten  all 
our  attention  of  mind  and  body  upon  him,  and 
hang  with  trembling  expectation  on  his  nod, 
with  no  slight  dread  lest  haply  some  foolish 
or  unsuitable  word  may  turn  aside  the  pity  of 
our  hearer,  and  then  too,  when  we  are  stand- 
ing in  the  forum  or  in  the  courts  of  earthly 
judges,  with  our  opponent  standing  over 
against  us,  if  in  the  midst  of  the  prosecution 
and  trial  any  coughing,  or  spitting,  or  laugh- 
ing, or  yawning,  or  sleep  overtakes  us,  with 
what  malice  will  our  ever  watchful  opponent 
stir  up  the  severity  of  the  judge  to  our  damage : 
how  much  more,  when  we  entreat  Him  who 
knows  all  secrets,  should  we,  by  reason  of  our 
imminent  danger  of  everlasting  death,  plead 
with  earnest  and  anxious  prayer  for  the  kind- 
ness of  the  judge,  especially  as  on  the  other 
side  there  stands  one  who  is  both  our  crafty 
seducer  and  our  accuser!  And  not  without 
reason  will  he  be  bound  by  no  light  sin,  but 
by  a  grievous  fault  of  wickedness,  who,  when 
he  pours  forth  his  prayer  to  God,  departs  at 
once  from  His  sight  as  if  from  the  eyes  of  one 
who  neither  sees  nor  hears,  and  follows  the 
vanity  of  wicked  thoughts.  But  they  who 
cover  the  eyes  of  their  heart  with  a  thick  veil 
of  their  sins,  and  as  the  Saviour  says,  "  See- 
ing see  not  and  hearing  hear  not  nor  under- 
stand,"2 hardly  regard  in  the  inmost  recesses 
of  their  breast  even  those  faults  which  are 
great  and  deadly,  and  cannot  with  clear  eyes 
look  at  any  deceitful  thoughts,  nor  even  those 
vague  and  secret  desires  which  strike  the 
mind  with  slight  and  subtle  suggestions,  nor 
the  captivities  of  their  soul,  but  always  wan- 
dering among  impure  thoughts  they  know  not 
how  to  be  sorry  when  they  are  distracted  from 
that  meditation  which  is  so  special,  nor  can 
they  grieve  that  they  have  lost  anything  as 
while  they  lay  open  their  mind  to  the  entrance 
of  any  thought  as  they  please,  they  have  no- 
thing set  before  them  to  hold  to  as  the  main 
thing  or  to  desire  in  every  way. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

How  those  who  maintain  that  a  man  can  be  without  sin  are 
charged  with  a  twofold  error. 

The  reason  however  which  drives  us  into 
this  error  is  that,  as  we  are  utterly  ignorant 

s  S.  Matt.  xiii.  13. 


524 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


of  the  virtue  of  being  without  sin,1  we  fancy 
that  we  cannot  contract  any  guilt  from  those 
idle  and  random  vagaries  of  our  thoughts,  but 
being  rendered  stupid  by  dullness  and  as  it  were 
smitten  with  blindness  we  can  see  nothing  in 
ourselves  but  capital  offences,  and  think  that 
we  have  only  to  keep  clear  of  those  things 
which  are  condemned  also  by  the  severity  of 
secular  laws,  and  if  we  find  that  even  for  a 
short  time  we  are  free  from  these  we  at  once 
imagine  that  there  is  no  sin  at  all  in  us. 
Accordingly  we  are  distinguished  from  the 
number  of  those  Avho  see,  because  we  do  not 
see  the  many  small  stains,  which  are  crowded 
together  in  us,  and  are  not  smitten  with  sav- 
ing contrition,  if  the  malady  of  vexation  over- 
takes our  thoughts,  nor  are  we  sorry  that  we 
are  struck  by  the  suggestions  of  vainglory, 
nor  do  we  weep  over  our  prayers  offered  up  so 
tardily  and  coldly,  nor  consider  it  a  fault  if 
while  we  are  singing  or  praying,  something 
else  besides  the  actual  prayer  or  Psalm  fills 
our  thoughts,  nor  are  we  horrified  because  we 
do  not  blush  to  conceive  many  things  which 
we  are  ashamed  to  speak  or  do  before  men,  in 
our  heart,  which,  as  we  know,  lies  open  to  the 
Divine  gaze;  nor  do  we  purge  away  the  pollu- 
tion of  filthy  dreams  with  copious  ablutions  of 
our  tears,  nor  grieve  that  in  the  pious  act  of 
almsgiving  when  we  are  assisting  the  needs 
of  the  brethren,  or  ministering  support  to  the 
poor,  the  brightness  of  our  cheerfulness  is 
clouded  over  by  a  stingy  delay,  nor  do  we 
think  that  we  are  affected  by  any  loss  when 
we  forget  God  and  think  about  things  that  are 
temporal  and  corrupt,  so  that  these  words  of 
Solomon  fairly  apply  to  us:  ''They  smite  me 
but  I  have  not  grieved,  and  they  have  mocked 
me,  but  I  knew  it  not. "  2 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

How  it  is  given  to  but  few  to  understand  what  sin  is. 

Those  on  the  other  hand  who  make  the 
sum  of  all  their  joy  and  delight  and  bliss  con- 
sist in  the  contemplation  of  divine  and  spir- 
itual things  alone,  if  they  are  unwillingly 
withdrawn  from  them  even  for  a  short  time 
by  thoughts  that  force  themselves  upon  them, 
punish  this  as  if  it  were  a  kind  of  sacrilege  in 
them,  and  avenge  it  by  immediate  chastise- 
ment, and  in  their  grief  that  they  have  pre- 
ferred some  worthless  creature  (to  which  their 
mental  gaze  was  turned  aside)  to  their  Cre- 
ator, charge  themselves  with  the  guilt  (I  had 
almost  said)  of  impiety,  and  although  they  turn 

1  Anamarteti  id  est  impeccanttz.        2  Prov.  xxiii.  35. 


the  eyes  of  their  heart  with  the  utmost  speed 
to  behold  the  brightness  of  the  Divine  Glory, 
yet  they  cannot  tolerate  even  for  a  very  short 
time  the  darkness  of  carnal  thoughts,  and  ex- 
ecrate whatever  keeps  back  their  soul's  gaze 
from  the  true  light.  Finally  when  the  blessed 
Apostle  John  would  instill  this  feeling  into 
everybody  he  says:  "Little  children,  love  not 
the  world,  neither  the  things  which  are  in  the 
world.  If  any  man  love  the  world,  the  love 
of  God  is  not  in  him :  for  everything  that  is 
in  the  world  is  the  lust  of  the  flesh  and  the 
lust  of  the  eyes  and  the  pride  of  life,  which  is 
not  of  the  Father  but  of  the  world.  And  the 
world  perisheth  and  the  lust  thereof:  but  he 
that  doeth  the  will  of  God  abideth  forever."8 
The  saints  therefore  scorn  all  those  things  on 
which  the  world  exists,  but  it  is  impossible  for 
them  never  to  be  carried  away  to  them  by  a 
brief  aberration  of  thoughts,  and  even  now  no 
man,  except  our  Lord  and  Saviour,  can  keep 
his  naturally  wandering  mind  always  fixed  on 
the  contemplation  of  God  so  as  never  to  be 
carried  away  from  it  through  the  love  of  some- 
thing in  this  world  ;  as  Scripture  says  :  "  Even 
the  stars  are  not  clean  in  His  sight,"  and 
again:  "If  He  puts  no  trust  in  His  saints, 
and  findeth  iniquity  in  His  angels,"  or  as  the 
more  correct  translation  has  it:  "Behold 
among  His  saints  none  is  unchangeable,  and 
the  heavens  are  not  pure  in  His  sight."  4 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Of  the  care  with  which  a  monk  should  preserve  the  recollection 
of  God. 

I  should  say  then  that  the  saints  who  keep 
a  firm  hold  of  the  recollection  of  God  and  are 
borne  along,  as  it  were,  with  their  steps  sus- 
pended on  a  line  stretched  out  on  high,  may 
be  rightly  compared  to  rope  dancers,  com- 
monly called  funambuli,  who  risk  all  their 
safety  and  life  on  the  path  of  that  very  narrow 
rope,  with  no  doubt  that  they  will  immediately 
meet  with  a  most  dreadful  death  if  their  foot 
swerves  or  trips  in  the  very  slightest  degree, 
or  goes  over  the  line  of  the  course  in  which 
alone  is  safety.  And  Avhile  with  marvel- 
lous skill  they  ply  their  airy  steps  through 
space,  if  they  keep  not  their  steps  to  that  all 
too  narrow  path  with  careful  and  anxious  regu- 
lation, the  earth  which  is  the  natural  base 
and  the  most  solid  and  safest  foundation  for 
all,  becomes  to  them  an  immediate  and  clear 
danger,  not  because  its  nature  is  changed,  but 
because    they  fall  headlong   upon  it  by  the 


3  i  John  ii.  15-17. 


4  Job  xxv.  5 ;  xv.  15. 


THIRD    CONFERENCE   OF   ABBOT    THEONAS. 


525 


weight  of  their  bodies.  So  also  that  un- 
wearied goodness  of  God  and  His  unchanging 
nature  x  hurts  no  one  indeed,  but  we  ourselves 
by  falling  from  on  high  and  tending  to  the 
depths  are  the  authors  of  our  own  death,  or 
rather  the  very  fall  becomes  death  to  the 
faller.  For  it  says :  "  Woe  to  them  for  they 
have  departed  from  Me :  they  shall  be  wasted 
because  they  have  transgressed  against  Me ;  " 
and  again:  "  Woe  to  them  when  I  shall  depart 
from  them."  For  "thine  own  wickedness 
shall  reprove  thee,  and  thy  apostasy  shall  re- 
buke thee.  Know  thou  and  see  that  it  is  an 
evil  and  a  bitter  thing  for  thee  to  have  left 
the  Lord  thy  God;"  for  "every  man  is  bound 
by  the  cords  of  his  sins."2  To  whom  this 
rebuke  is  aptly  directed  by  the  Lord:  "Be- 
hold," He  says,  "all  you  that  kindle  a  fire, 
encompassed  with  flames,  walk  ye  in  the  light 
of  your  fire  and  in  the  flames  which  you  have 
kindled;  "  and  again:  "  He  that  kindleth  ini- 
quity, shall  perish  by  it."  3 


CHAPTER   X. 

How  those  who  are  on  the  way  to  perfection  are  truly  humble, 
and  feel  that  they  always  stand  in  need  of  God's  grace. 

When  then  holy  men  feel  that  they  are  op- 
pressed by  the  weight  of  earthly  thoughts  and 
fall  away  from  their  loftiness  of  mind,  and 
that  they  are  led  away  against  their  will  or 
rather  without  knowing  it,  into  the  law  of  sin 
and  death,  and  (to  pass  over  other  matters)  are 
kept  back  by  those  actions  which  I  described 
above,  which  are  good  and  right  though  earthly, 
from  the  vision  of  God;  they  have  something 
to  groan  over  constantly  to  the  Lord ;  they 
have  something  for  which  indeed  to  humble 
themselves,  and  in  their  contrition  to  profess 
themselves  not  in  words  only  but  in  heart, 
sinners;  and  for  this,  while  they  continually 
ask  of  the  Lord's  grace  pardon  for  everything 
that  day  by  day  they  commit  when  overcome 
by  the  weakness  of  the  flesh,  they  should  shed 
without  ceasing  true  tears  of  penitence ;  as  they 
see  that  being  involved  even  to  the  very  end 
of  their  life  in  the  very  same  troubles,  with 
continual  sorrow  for  which  they  are  tried,  they 
cannot  even  offer  their  prayers  without  ha- 
rassing thoughts.  So  then  as  they  know  by  ex- 
perience that  through  the  hindrance  of  the 
burden  of  the  flesh  they  cannot  by  human 
strength  reach  the  desired  end,  nor  be  united 
according  to  their  heart's  desire  with  that 
chief  and  highest  good,  but  that  they  are  led 
away  from  the  vision  of  it  captive  to  worldly 

1  Substantia.      -  Hos.  vii.  13;  ix.  12;  Jer.  ii-  19;  Prov.  v.  22. 
3  Isa.  1.  11  ;   Prov.  xix.  9. 


things,  they  betake  themselves  to  the  grace 
of  God,  "Who  justifieth  the  ungodly,"  4  and 
cry  out  with  the  Apostle:  "O  wretched  man 
that  I  am!  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death?  Thanks  be  to  God 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."5  For  they 
feel  that  they  cannot  perform  the  good  that 
they  would,  but  are  ever  falling  into  the  evil 
which  they  would  not,  and  which  they  hate, 
i.e.,  wandering  thoughts  and  care»  for  carnal 
things. 


CHAPTER   XL 

Explanation  of  the  phrase :  "  For  I  delight  in  the  law  of  God 
after  the  inner  man,"  etc. 

And  they  "delight"  indeed  "in  the  law  of 
God  after  the  inner  man,"  which  soars  above 
all  visible  things  and  ever  strives  to  be  united 
to  God  alone,  but  they  "  see  another  law  in 
their  members,"  i.e.,  implanted  in  their  na- 
tural human  condition,  which  "resisting  the 
law  of  their  mind,"6  brings  their  thoughts 
into  captivity  to  the  forcible  law  of  sin,  com- 
pelling them  to  forsake  that  chief  good  and 
submit  to  earthly  notions,  which  though  they 
may  appear  necessary  and  useful  when  they 
are  taken  up  in  the  interests  of  some  Religious 
want,  yet  when  they  are  set  against  that  good 
which  fascinates  the  gaze  of  all  the  saints, 
are  seen  by  them  to  be  bad  and  such  as  should 
be  avoided,  because  by  them  in  some  way  or 
other  and  for  a  short  time  they  are  drawn  away 
from  the  joy  of  that  perfect  bliss.  For  the 
law  of  sin  is  really  what  the  fall  of  its  first 
father  brought  on  mankind  by  that  fault  of 
his,  against  which  there  was  uttered  this  sen- 
tence by  the  most  just  Judge  :  "  Cursed  is  the 
ground  in  thy  works;  thorns  and  thistles  shali 
it  bring  forth  to  thee,  and  in  the  sweat  of  thy 
brow  shalt  thou  eat  bread."7  This,  I  say,  is 
the  law,  implanted  in  the  members  of  all  mor- 
tals, which  resists  the  law  of  our  mind  and 
keeps  it  back  from  the  vision  of  God,  and 
which,  as  the  earth  is  cursed  in  our  works  after 
the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  begins  to  pro- 
duce the  thorns  and  thistles  of  thoughts,  by  the 
sharp  pricks  of  which  the  natural  seeds  of  vir- 
tues are  choked,  so  that  without  the  sweat  of 
our  brow  we  cannot  eat  our  bread  which 
" cometh  down  from  heaven,"  and  which 
" strengtheneth  man's  heart.''8  The  whole 
human  race  in  general  therefore  is  without 
exception  subject  to  this  law.  For  there  is 
no  one,  however  saintly,  who  does  not  take  the 


*  Rom.  iv.  5. 

5  Rom.  vii.  24,  25. 

6  lb.  vii.  22,  23. 


7  Gen.  iii.  17,  19. 

8  S.  John  vi.  33 ;    Ps.  ciii.  (civ.)  15. 


;26 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


bread  mentioned  above  with  the  sweat  of  his 
brow  and  anxious  efforts  of  his  heart.  But 
many  rich  men,  as  we  see,  are  fed  on  that 
common  bread  without  any  sweat  of  their 
brow. 

CHAPTER   XII. 

Of  this  also :  "  But  we  know  that  the  law  is  spiritual,"  etc. 

And  this  law  the  Apostle  also  calls  spiritual 
saying :  "  But  we  know  that  the  law  is  spiritual, 
but  I  am  carnal,  sold  under  sin."1  For  this 
law  is  spiritual  which  bids  us  eat  in  the  sweat 
of  our  brow  that  "true  bread  which  cometh 
down  from  heaven  "  2  but  that  sale  under  sin 
makes  us  carnal.  What,  I  ask,  or  whose  is 
that  sin?  Doubtless  Adam's,  by  whose  fall, 
and,  if  I  may  so  say,  ruinous  transaction  and 
fraudulent  bargain  we  were  sold.  For  when 
he  was  led  astray  by  the  persuasion  of  the  ser- 
pent he  brought  all  his  descendants  under 
the  yoke  of  perpetual  bondage,  as  they  were 
alienated  by  taking  the  forbidden  food.  For 
this  custom  is  generally  observed  between  the 
buyer  and  seller,  that  one  who  wants  to  make 
himself  over  to  the  power  of  another,  receives 
from  his  buyer  a  price  for  the  loss  of  his 
liberty,  and  his  consignment  to  perpetual 
slavery.  And  we  can  very  plainly  see  that 
this  took  place  between  Adam  and  the  ser- 
pent. For  by  eating  of  the  forbidden  tree 
he  received  from  the  serpent  the  price  of  his 
liberty,  and  gave  up  his  natural  freedom 
and  chose  to  give  himself  up  to  perpetual 
slavery  to  him  from  whom  he  had  obtained 
the  deadly  price  of  the  forbidden  fruit;  and 
thenceforth  he  was  bound  by  this  condition 
and  not  without  reason  subjected  all  the 
offspring  of  his  posterity  to  perpetual  service 
to  him  whose  slave  he  had  become.  For 
what  can  any  marriage  in  slavery  produce  but 
slaves?  What  then?  Did  that  cunning  and 
crafty  buyer  take  away  the  rights  of  owner- 
ship from  the  true  and  lawful  lord  ?  Not  so. 
For  neither  did  he  overcome  all  God's  pro- 
perty by  the  craft  of  a  single  act  of  deception 
so  that  the  true  lord  lost  his  rights  of  owner- 
ship, who  though  the  buyer  himself  was  a 
rebel  and  a  renegade,  yet  oppressed  him  with 
the  yoke  of  slavery;  but  because  the  Creator 
had  endowed  all  reasonable  creatures  with 
free  will,  he  would  not  restore  to  their  natural 
liberty  against  their  will  those  who  contrary 
to  right  had  sold  themselves  by  the  sin  of 
greedy  lust.  Since  anything  that  is  contrary 
to  goodness  and  fairness  is  abhorrent  to  Him 
who  is  the  Author  of  justice  and  piety.      For 


1  Rom.  vii.  14. 


S.  John  vi.  33. 


it  would  have  been  wrong  for  Him  to  have 
recalled  the  blessing  of  freedom  granted, 
unfair  for  Him  to  have  by  His  power  op- 
pressed man  who  was  free,  and  by  taking  him 
captive,  not  to  have  allowed  him  to  exercise 
the  prerogative  of  the  freedom  he  had  received, 
as  He  was  reserving  his  salvation  for  future 
ages,  that  in  due  season  the  fulness  of  the 
appointed  time  might  be  fulfilled.  For  it  was 
right  that  his  offspring  should  remain  under 
the  ancient  conditions  for  so  long  a  time,  un- 
til by  the  price  of  His  own  blood  the  grace  of 
the  Lord  redeemed  them  from  their  original 
chains  and  set  them  free  in  the  primeval  state 
of  liberty,  though  He  was  able  even  then  to 
save  them,  but  would  not,  because  equity 
forbade  Him  to  break  the  terms  of  His  own 
decree.  Would  you  know  the  reason  for  your 
being  sold?  Hear  thy  Redeemer  Himself 
proclaiming  openly  by  Isaiah  the  prophet: 
"What  is  this  bill  of  the  divorce  of  your 
mother  with  which  I  have  put  her  away?  Or 
who  is  My  creditor  to  whom  I  sold  you? 
Behold  you  are  sold  for  your  iniquities  and 
for  your  wicked  deeds  have  I  put  your  mother 
away. "  Would  you  also  plainly  see  why  when 
you  were  consigned  to  the  yoke  of  slavery  He 
would  not  redeem  you  by  the  might  of  His 
own  power?  Hear  what  He  added  to  the 
former  passage,  and  how  He  charges  the  same 
servants  of  sin  with  the  reason  for  their  volun- 
tary sale.  "  Is  My  hand  shortened  and  be- 
come little  that  I  cannot  redeem,  or  is  there 
no  strength  in  Me  to  deliver?  "  3  But  what  it 
is  which  is  always  standingjn  the  way  of  His 
most  powerful  pity  the  same  prophet  shows 
when  he  says :  "  Behold  the  hand  of  the  Lord 
is  not  shortened  that  it  cannot  save,  neither 
is  His  ear  heavy  that  it  cannot  hear:  But  your 
iniquities  have  divided  between  you  and  your 
God  and  your  sins  have  hid  His  face  from 
you  that  He  should  not  hear."  4 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Of  this  also  :  "  But  I  know  that  in  me,  that  is  in  my  flesh, 
dwelleth  no  good  thing." 

Because  then  the  original  curse  of  God 
has  made  us  carnal  and  condemned  us  to 
thorns  and  thistles,  and  our  father  has  sold 
us  by  that  unhappy  bargain  so  that  we  can- 
not do  the  good  that  we  would,  while  we  are 
torn  away  from  the  recollection  of  God  Most 
High  and  forced  to  think  on  what  belongs  to 
human  weakness,  while  burning  with  the  love 
of  purity,  we  are  often  even  against  our  will 

3  Isa.  1.  1,  2.  *  Isa.  lix.  1,  2. 


THIRD    CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   THEONAS. 


527 


troubled  by  natural  desires,  which  we  would 
rather  know  nothing  about;  we  know  that  in 
our  flesh  there  dwelleth  no  good  thing1  viz., 
the  perpetual  and  lasting  peace  of  this  medi- 
tation of  which  we  have  spoken;  but  there  is 
brought  about  in  our  case  that  miserable  and 
wretched  divorce,  that  when  with  the  mind  we 
want  to  serve  the  law  of  God,  since  we  never 
want  to  remove  our  gaze  from  the  Divine 
brightness,  yet  surrounded  as  we  are  by  car- 
nal darkness  we  are  forced  by  a  kind  of  law 
of  sin  to  tear  ourselves  away  from  the  good 
which  we  know,  as  we  fall  away  from  that 
lofty  height  of  mind  to  earthly  cares  and 
thoughts,  to  which  the  law  of  sin,  i.e.,  the 
sentence  of  God,  which  the  first  delinquent 
received,  has  not  without  reason  condemned 
us.  And  hence  it  is  that  the  blessed  Apostle, 
though  he  openly  admits  that  he  and  all  saints 
are  bound  by  the  constraint  of  this  sin,  yet 
boldly  asserts  that  none  of  them  will  be  con- 
demned for  this,  saying:  "There  is  therefore 
now  no  condemnation  to  them  that  are  in 
Christ  Jesus:  for  the  law  of  the  spirit  of  life 
in  Christ  Jesus  hath  set  me  free  from  the  law 
of  .sin  and  death,"  2  i.e.,  the  grace  of  Christ 
day  by  day  frees  all  his  saints  from  this  law 
of  sin  and  death,  under  which  they  are  con- 
stantly reluctantly  obliged  to  come,  whenever 
they  pray  to  the  Lord  for  the  forgiveness  of 
their  trespasses.  You  see  then  that  it  was 
in  the  person  not  of  sinners  but  of  those  who 
are  really  saints  and  perfect,  that  the  blessed 
Apostle  gave  utterance  to  this  saying :  "  For 
I  do  not  the  good  that  I  would,  but  the  evil 
which  I  hate,  that  I  do ;  "  and :  "  I  see  another 
law  in  my  members  resisting  the  law  of  my 
mind  and  bringing  me  captive  to  the  law  of 
sin  which  is  in  my  members."3 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

An  objection,  that  the  saying  :  "  For  I  do  not  the  good  that  I 
would,"  etc.,  applies  to  the  persons  neither  of  unbelievers 
nor  of  saints. 

Germanus  :  We  say  that  this  does  not  apply 
to  the  persons  either  of  those  who  are  involved 
in  capital  offences,  or  of  an  Apostle  and  those 
who  have  advanced  to  his  measure,  but  we 
think  that  it  ought  properly  to  be  taken  of 
those  who  after  receiving  the  grace  of  God 
and  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  are  anxious 
to  keep  themselves  from  carnal  sins  but,  as 
ancient  custom  like  a  natural  law  rules  most 
forcibly  in  their  members,  they  are  carried 
away  to  the  ingrained  lust  of  their  passions. 
For  the  custom  and  frequency  of  sinning  be- 


1  Cf.  Rom. 


2  Rom.  viii.  1,  2.         3  Rom.  vii.  19. 


comes  like  a  natural  law,  which,  implanted 
in  the  man's  weak  members,  leads  the  feel- 
ings of  the  soul  that  is  not  yet  instructed  in 
all  the  pursuits  of  virtue,  but  is  still,  if  I  may 
say  so,  of  an  uninstructed  and  tender  chastity, 
captive  to  sin  and  subjecting  them  by  an  an- 
cient law  to  death,  brings  them  under  the  yoke 
of  sin  that  rules  over  them,  not  suffering 
them  to  obtain  the  good  of  purity  which  they 
love,  but  rather  forcing  them  to  do  the  evil 
which  they  hate. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

The  answer  to  the  objection  raised. 

Theonas  :  Your  notion  does  not  come  to 
much;  as  you  yourselves  have  actually  now 
begun  to  maintain  that  this  cannot  possibly 
stand  in  the  person  of  those  who  are  out  and 
out  sinners,  but  that  it  properly  applies  to 
those  who  are  trying  to  keep  themselves  clear 
from  carnal  sins.  And  since  you  have  already 
separated  these  from  the  number  of  sinners, 
it  follows  that  you  must  shortly  admit  them 
into  the  ranks  of  the  faithful  and  holy.  For 
what  kinds  of  sin  do  you  say  that  those  can 
commit,  from  which,  if  they  are  involved  in 
them  after  the  grace  of  baptism,  they  can  be 
freed  by  the  daily  grace  of  Christ?  or  of  what 
body  of  death  are  we  to  think  that  the  Apostle 
said:  "Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body 
of  this  death?  Thanks  be  to  God  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  "  ?  4  Is  it  not  clear,  as 
truth  compels  you  yourselves  also  to  admit, 
that  it  is  spoken  not  of  those  members  of  capi- 
tal crimes,  by  which  the  wages  of  eternal  death 
are  gained;  viz.,  murder,  fornication,  adultery, 
drunkenness,  thefts  and  robberies,  but  of  that 
body  before  mentioned,  which  the  daily  grace 
of  Christ  assists?  For  whoever  after  baptism 
and  the  knowledge  of  God  falls  into  that 
death,  must  know  that  he  will  either  have 
to  be  cleansed,  not  by  the  daily  grace  of 
Christ,  i.e.,  an  easy  forgiveness,  which  our 
Lord  when  at  any  moment  He  is  prayed  to, 
is  wont  to  grant  to  our  errors,  but  by  a  life- 
long affliction  of  penitence  and  penal  sorrow, 
or  else  will  be  hereafter  consigned  to  the  pun- 
ishment of  eternal  fire  for  them,  as  the  same 
Apostle  thus  declares:  "Be  not  deceived: 
neither  fornicators,  nor  idolaters,  nor  adulter- 
ers, nor  effeminate,  nor  defilers  of  themselves 
with  mankind,  nor  thieves,  nor  covetous  per- 
sons, nor  drunkards,  nor  railers,  nor  extor- 
tioners shall  possess  the  kingdom  of  God."5 
Or  what  is  that  law  warrimr  in  our  members 


4  Rom.  vii.  24,  25. 


Cor. 


5^8 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


which  resists  the  law  of  our  mind,  and  when 
it  has  led  us  resisting  but  captives  to  the  law  of 
sin  and  death,  and  has  made  us  serve  it  with 
the  flesh,  nevertheless  suffers  us  to  serve  the 
law  of  God  with  the  mind?  For  I  do  not 
suppose  that  this  law  of  sin  denotes  crimes  or 
can  be  taken  of  the  offences  mentioned  above, 
of  which  if  a  man  is  guilty  he  does  not  serve 
the  law  of  God  with  the  mind,  from  which  law 
he  must  first  have  departed  in  heart  before  he 
is  guilty  of  any  of  them  with  the  flesh.  For 
what  is  it  to  serve  the  law  of  sin,  but  to 
do  what  is  commanded  by  sin?  What  sort 
of  sin  then  is  it  to  which  so  great  holiness  and 
perfection  feels  that  it  is  captive,  and  yet 
doubts  not  that  it  will  be  freed  from  it  by  the 
grace  of  Christ,  saying:  "O  wretched  man 
that  I  am!  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death?  Thanks  be  to  God 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  "  ?  What  law, 
I  ask,  will  you  maintain  to  be  implanted  in 
our  members,  which,  withdrawing  us  from  the 
law  of  God  and  bringing  us  into  captivity  to 
the  law  of  sin,  could  make  us  wretched  rather 
than  guilty  so  that  we  should  not  be  consigned 
to  eternal  punishment,  but  still  as  it  were  sigh 
for  the  unbroken  joys  of  bliss,  and,  seeking 
for  a  helper  who  shall  restore  us  to  it,  exclaim 
with  the  Apostle :  '  O  wretched  man  that  I  am  ! 
Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death?"  For  what  is  it  to  be  led  captive  to 
the  law  of  sin  but  to  continue  to  perform  and 
commit  sin  ?  Or  what  other  chief  good  can  be 
given  which  the  saints  cannot  fulfil,  except 
that  in  comparison  with  which,  as  we  said 
above,  everything  else  is  not  good?  Indeed 
we  know  that  many  things  in  this  world  are 
good,  and  chiefly,  modesty,  continence,  so- 
briety, humility,  justice,  mercy,  temperance, 
piety:  but  all  of  these  things  fail  to  come  up 
to  that  chief  good,  and  can  be  done  I  say  not 
by  apostles,  but  even  by  ordinary  folk;  and, 
those  by  whom  they  are  not  done,  are  either 
chastised  with  eternal  punishment,  or  are  set 
free  by  great  exertions,  as  was  said  above,  of 
penitence,  and  not  by  the  daily  grace  of 
Christ.  It  remains  then  for  us  to  admit  that 
this  saying  of  the  Apostle  is  rightly  applied 
only  to  the  persons  of  saints,  who  day  after 
day  falling  under  this  law,  which  we  described, 
of  sin  not  of  crimes,  are  secure  of  their  salva- 
tion and  not  precipitated  into  wicked  deeds, 
but,  as  has  often  been  said,  are  drawn  away 
from  the  contemplation  of  God  to  the  misery 
of  bodily  thoughts,  and  are  often  deprived  of 
the  blessing  of  that  true  bliss.  For  if  they 
felt  that  by  this  law  of  their  members  they 
were  bound  daily  to  crimes,  they  would  com- 
plain of  the  loss  not  of  happiness  but  of  inno- 
cence,  and  the  Apostle  Paul  would  not  say: 


"O  wretched  man  that  I  am,"  but  "Impure," 
or  "Wicked  man  that  I  am,"  and  he  would 
wish  to  be  rid  not  of  the  body  of  this  death, 
i.e.,  this  mortal  state,  but  of  the  crimes  and 
misdeeds  of  this  flesh.  But  because  by  reason 
of  his  state  of  human  frailty  he  felt  that  he 
was  captive,  i.e.,  led  away  to  carnal  cares 
and  anxieties  which  the  law  of  sin  and  death 
causes,  he  groans  over  this  law  of  sin  under 
which  against  his  will  he  had  fallen,  and  at 
once  has  recourse  to  Christ  and  is  saved  by 
the  present  redemption  of  His  grace.  What- 
ever of  anxiety  therefore  that  law  of  sin,  which 
naturally  produces  the  thorns  and  thistles  of 
mortal  thoughts  and  cares,  has  caused  to 
spring  up  in  the  ground  of  the  Apostle's 
breast,  that  the  law  of  grace  at  once  plucks 
up.  "For  the  law,"  says  he,  "of  the  spirit  of 
life  in  Christ  Jesus  hath  set  me  free  from  the 
law  of  sin  and  death."  1 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

What  is  the  body  of  sin. 

This  then  is  that  body  of  death  from  which 
we  cannot  escape,  pent  in  which  those  who 
are  perfect,  who  have  tasted  "how  gracious 
the  Lord  is,"2  daily  feel  with  the  prophet 
"how  bad  for  himself  and  bitter  it  is  for  a 
man  to  depart  from  the  Lord  his  God."3 
This  is  the  body  of  death  which  restrains  us 
from  the  heavenly  vision  and  drags  us  back 
to  earthly  things,  which  causes  men  while 
singing  Psalms  and  kneeling  in  prayer  to  have 
their  thoughts  filled  with  human  figures,  or 
conversations,  or  business,  or  unnecessary 
actions.  This  is  the  body  of  death,  owing 
to  which  those,  who  would  emulate  the  sanc- 
tity of  angels,  and  who  long  to  cling  contin- 
ually to  God,  yet  are  unable  to  arrive  at  the 
perfection  of  this  good,  because  the  body  of 
death  stands  in  their  way,  but  they  do  the 
evil  that  they  would  not,  i.  e.,  they  are  dragged 
down  in  their  minds  even  to  the  things  which 
have  nothing  to  do  with  their  advance  and 
perfection  in  virtue.  Finally  that  the  blessed 
Apostle  might  clearly  denote  that  he  said  this 
of  saintly  and  perfect  men,  and  those  like 
himself,  he  in  a  way  points  with  his  finger  to 
himself  and  at  once  proceeds :  "  And  so  I  my- 
self," i.e,'  I  who  say  this,  lay  bare  the  secrets 
of  my  own  not  another's  conscience.  This 
mode  of  speech  at  any  rate  the  Apostle  is 
familiarly  accustomed  to  use,  whenever  he 
wants  to  point  specially  to  himself,  as  here  : 
"  I,  Paul,  myself  beseech  you  by  the  mildness 


1  Rom.  viii.  2.        J  Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)  9.       3  Jer.  ii.  19. 


THIRD    CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   THEONAS. 


529 


and  modesty  of  Christ;  "  and  again:  "except 
that  I  myself  was  not  burdensome  to  you ;  " 
and  once  more :  "  But  be  it  so:  I  myself  did 
not  burden  you;"  and  elsewhere:  "I,  Paul, 
myself  say  unto  you:  if  ye  be  circumcised 
Christ  shall  profit  you  nothing;  "  and  to  the 
Romans:  "For  I  could  wish  that  I  myself 
were  Anathema  from  Christ  for  my  brethren. "  : 
But  it  cannot  unreasonably  be  taken  in  this 
way,  that  ''And  so  I  myself"  is  expressly 
said  with  emphasis,  i.e.,  I  whom  you  know  to 
be  an  Apostle  of  Christ,  whom  you  venerate 
with  the  utmost  respect,  whom  you  believe  to 
be  of  the  highest  character  and  perfect,  and 
one  in  whom  Christ  speaks,  though  with  the 
mind  I  serve  the  law  of  God,  yet  with  the 
flesh  I  confess  that  I  serve  the  law  of  sin,  i.e., 
by  the  occupations  of  my  human  condition  I 
am  sometimes  dragged  down  from  heavenly 
to  earthly  things  and  the  height  of  my  mind  is 
brought  down  to  the  level  of  care  for  humble 
matters.  And  by  this  law  of  sin  I  find  that 
at  every  moment  I  am  so  taken  captive  that 
although  I  persist  in  my  immovable  longing 
around  the  law  of  God,  yet  in  no  way  can  1 
escape  the  power  of  this  captivity,  unless  I 
always  fly  to  the  grace  of  the  Saviour. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

How  all  the  saints  have  confessed  with  truth  that  they  were 
unclean  and  sinful. 

And  therefore  with  daily  sighs  all  the  saints 
grieve  over  this  weakness  of  their  nature  and 
while  they  search  into  their  shifting  thoughts 
and  the  secrets  and  inmost  recesses  of  their 
conscience,  cry  out  in  entreaty:  "Enter  not 
into  judgment  with  Thy  servant,  for  in  Thy 
sight  shall  no  man  living  be  justified;"  and 
this:  "  Who  will  boast  that  he  hath  a  chaste 
heart  ?  or  who  will  have  confidence  that  he  is 
pure  from  sin?"  and  again:  "There  is  not 
a  righteous  man  upon  earth  that  doeth  good 
and  sinneth  not ;  "  and  this  also  :  "  Who  know- 
eth  his  faults?"2  And  so  they  have  recog- 
nized that  man's  righteousness  is  weak  and 
imperfect  and  always  needs  God's  mercy,  so 
that  one  of  those  whose  iniquities  and  sins 
God  purged  away  with  the  live  coal  of  His 
word  sent  from  the  altar,  after  that  marvellous 
vision  of  God,  after  his  view  of  the  Seraphim 
on  high  and  the  revelation  of  heavenly  mys- 
teries, said:  "Woe  is  me!  for  I  am  a  man  of 
unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell  in  the  midst  of  a 
people  of  unclean  lips."  3     And  I  fancy  that 


1  2  Cor.  x.  1  ;  xii.  13,  16;  Gal.  v.  2;  Rom.  ix.  3. 

2  Ps.  cxlii.   (cxliii.)  2;    Prov.    xx.   9;  Eccl.   vii. 
(xix.)  13.  8  Isa.  vi.  5. 


21  ;    Ps.   xviii. 


perhaps  even  then  he  would  not  have  felt  the 
uncleanness  of  his  lips,  unless  it  had  been 
given  him  to  recognize  the  true  and  complete 
purity  of  perfection  by  the  vision  of  God,  at 
the  sight  of  Whom  he  suddenly  became  aware 
of  his  own  uncleanness,  of  which  he  had  pre- 
viously been  ignorant.  For  when  he  says : 
"Woe  is  me!  for  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips," 
he  shows  that  his  confession  that  follows 
refers  to  his  own  lips,  and  not  to  the  unclean- 
ness of  the  people:  "and  I  dwell  in  the  midst 
of  a  people  of  unclean  lips."  But  even  when 
in  his  prayer  he  confesses  the  uncleanness  of 
all  sinners,  he  embraces  in  his  general  sup- 
plication not  only  the  mass  of  the  wicked  but 
also  of  the  good,  saying:  "  Behold  Thou  art 
angry,  and  we  have  sinned :  in  them  we  have 
been  always,  and  we  shall  be  saved.  We  are 
all  become  as  one  unclean,  and  all  our  right- 
eousnesses as  filthy  rags."4  What,  I  ask, 
could  be  clearer  than  this  saying,  in  which 
the  prophet  includes  not  one  only  but  all  cur 
righteousnesses  and,  looking  round  on  all 
things  that  are  considered  unclean  and  disgust- 
ing, because  he  could  find  nothing  in  the  life 
of  men  fouler  or  more  unclean,  chose  to  com- 
pare them  to  filthy  rags.  In  vain  then  is  the 
sharpness  of  a  nagging  objection  raised 
against  this  perfectly  clear  truth,  as  a  little 
while  back  you  said:  "If  no  one  is  without 
sin,  then  no  one  is  holy;  and  if  no  one  is  holy, 
then  no  one  will  be  saved."5  For  the  puzzle 
of  this  question  can  be  solved  by  the  prophet's 
testimony.  "Behold,"  he  says,  "Thou  art 
angry  and  we  have  sinned,"  i.e.,  when  Thou 
didst  reject  our  pride  of  heart  or  our  careless- 
ness, and  deprive  us  of  Thine  aid,  at  once  the 
abyss  of  our  sins  swallowed  us  up,  as  if  one 
should  say  to  the  bright  substance  of  the  sun : 
Behold  thou  hast  set,  and  at  once  murky  dark- 
ness covered  us.  And  yet  though  he  here 
says  that  the  saints  have  sinned,  and  have 
not  only  sinned  but  also  have  always  remained 
in  their  sins,  he  does  not  altogether  despair 
of  salvation  but  adds :  "  In  them  we  have  been 
always,  and  we  shall  be  saved."  This  say- 
ing :  "  Behold  Thou  art  angry  and  we  have 
sinned,"  I  will  compare  to  that  one  of  the 
Apostle's:  "O  wretched  man  that  I  am! 
Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death?"  Again  this  that  the  prophet  sub- 
joins: "In  them  we  have  been  always,  and 
we  shall  be  saved,"  corresponds  to  the  fol- 
lowing words  of  the  Apostle :  "  Thanks  be  to 
God  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Ford."  In  the 
same  way  also  this  passage  of  the  same  pro- 
phet: "  Woe  is  me !  for  I  am  a  man  of  unclean 
lips  and  I  dwell  in  the  midst  of  a  people  of 


*  Isa.  lxiv.  s,  6. 


s  Cf.  XXII.  viii. 


53Q 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


unclean  lips,"  seems  to  agree  with  the  words 
quoted  above :  "  O  wretched  man  that  I  am ! 
Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death?"  And  what  follows  in  the  prophet: 
"And  behold  there  flew  to  me  one  of  the  Se- 
raphim, having  in  his  hand  a  coal  (or  stone) 
which  he  had  taken  with  the  tongs  from  off 
the  altar.  And  he  touched  my  mouth  and 
said:  Lo,  with  this  I  have  touched  thy  lips, 
and  thine  iniquity  is  taken  away  and  thy  sin 
is  purged,"  x  is  just  what  seems  to  have  fallen 
from  the  mouth  of  Paul,  who  says :  "  Thanks 
be  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 
You  see  then  how  all  the  saints  with  truth 
confess  not  so  much  in  the  person  of  the 
people  as  in  their  own  that  they  are  sinners, 
and  yet  by  no  means  despair  of  their  salvation, 
but  look  for  full  justification  (which  they  do 
not  hope  that  they  cannot  obtain  by  virtue  of 
the  state  of  human  frailty)  from  the  grace  and 
mercy  of  the  Lord. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

That  even  good  and  holy  men  are  not  without  sin. 

But  that  no  one  however  holy  is  in  this 
life  free  from  trespasses  and  sin,  we  are  told 
also  by  the  teaching  of  the  Saviour,  who  gave 
His  disciples  the  form  of  the  perfect  prayer; 
and  among  those  other  sublime  and  sacred 
commands,  which  as  they  were  only  given  to 
the  saints  and  perfect  cannot  apply  to  the 
wicked  and  unbelievers,  He  bade  this  to  be 
inserted:  "And  forgive  us  our  debts  as  we 
also  forgive  our  debtors."2  If  then  this  is 
offered  as  a  true  prayer  and  by  saints,  as  we 
ought  without  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  to  believe, 
who  can  be  found  so  obstinate  and  impudent, 
so  puffed  up  with  the  pride  of  the  devil's  own 
rage,  as  to  maintain  that  he  is  without  sin, 
and  not  only  to  think  himself  greater  than 
apostles,  but  also  to  charge  the  Saviour 
Himself  with  ignorance  or  folly,  as  if  He 
either  did  not  know  that  some  men  could  be 
free  from  debts,  or  was  idly  teaching  those 
whom  He  knew  to  stand  in  no  need  of  the 
remedy  of  that  prayer?  But  since  all  the 
saints  who  altogether  keep  the  commands  of 
their  King,  say  every  day  "  Forgive  us  our 
debts,"  if  they  speak  the  truth,  there  is  indeed 
no  one  free  from  sin,  but  if  they  speak  falsely, 
it  is  equally  true  that  they  are  not  free  from 
the  sin  of  falsehood.  Wherefore  also  that 
most  wise  Ecclesiastes  reviewing  in  his  mind 
all  the  actions  and  purposes  of  men  declares 
without  any  exception:    "that  there  is  not  a 


1  Isa.  vi.  6,  7. 


-  S.  Matt,  vi.  12. 


righteous  man  upon  earth,  that  doeth  good 
and  sinneth  not,"  3  i.e.,  no  one  ever  could  or 
ever  will  be  found  on  this  earth  so  holy,  so 
diligent,  so  earnest  as  to  be  able  continually 
to  cling  to  that  true  and  unique  good,  and  not 
day  after  day  to  feel  that  he  is  drawn  aside 
from  it  and  fails.  But  still  though  he  main- 
tains that  he  cannot  be  free  from  wrong  doing, 
yet  none  the  less  we  must  not  deny  that  he  is 
righteous. 

CHAP'ER   XIX. 

How  even  in  the  hour  of  prayer  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
avoid  sin. 

Whoever  then  ascribes  sinlessness  to  hu- 
man nature  must  fight  against  no  idle  words 
but  the  witness  and  proof  of  his  conscience 
which  is  on  our  side,  and  then  only  should 
maintain  that  he  is  without  sin,  when  he 
finds  that  he  is  not  torn  away  from  this 
highest  good:  nay  rather,  whoever  consider- 
ing his  own  conscience,  to  say  no  more,  finds 
that  he  has  celebrated  even  one  single  service 
without  the  distraction  of  a  single  word  or 
deed  or  thought,  may  say  that  he  is  without 
sin.  Further  because  we  admit  that  the  dis- 
cursive lightness  of  the  human  mind  cannot 
get  rid  of  these  idle  and  empty  things,  we  thus 
consequently  confess  with  truth  that  we  are 
not  without  sin.  For  with  whatever  care  a 
man  tries  to  keep  his  heart,  he  can  never, 
owing  to  the  resistance  of  the  nature  of  the 
flesh,  keep  it  according  to  the  desire  of  his 
spirit.  For  however  far  the  human  mind  may 
have  advanced  and  progressed  towards  a  finer 
purity  of  contemplation,  so  much  the  more 
will  it  see  itself  to  be  unclean,  as  it  were  in 
the  mirror  of  its  purity,  because  while  the 
soul  raises  itself  for  a  loftier  vision  and  as 
it  looks  forth  yearns  for  greater  things  than  it 
performs,  it  is  sure  always  to  despise  as  infe- 
rior and  worthless  the  things  in  which  it  is 
mixed  up.  Since  a  keener  sight  notices  more ; 
and  a  blameless  life  produces  greater  sorrow 
when  found  fault  with;  and  amendment  of  life, 
and  earnest  striving  after  goodness  multiplies 
groans  and  sighs.  For  no  one  can  rest  con- 
tent with  that  stage  to  which  he  has  advanced, 
and  however  much  a  man  may  be  purified  in 
mind,  so  much  the  more  does  he  see  himself 
to  be  foul,  and  find  grounds  for  humiliation 
rather  than  for  pride,  and,  however  swiftly 
he  may  climb  to  greater  heights,  so  much 
more  does  he  see  above  him  whither  he  is 
tending.  Finally  that  chosen  Apostle  "whom 
Jesus  loved,"  4  who  lay  on  His  bosom,  uttered 
this  saying  as  if  from  the  heart  of  the  Lord: 


3  Eccl.  vii.  21. 


4  S.  John  xiii.  23. 


CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  ABRAHAM. 


531 


"If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin  we  deceive 
ourselves  and  the  truth  is  not  in  us."  1  And 
so  if  when  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we 
have  not  the  truth,  that  is  Christ,  in  us,  what 
good  do  we  do  except  to  prove  ourselves  by 
this  very  profession,  criminals  and  wicked 
among:  sinners? 


CHAPTER   XX. 

From  whom  we  can  learn  the  destruction  of  sin  and  perfection 
of  goodness. 

Lastly  if  you  would  like  to  investigate 
more  thoroughly  whether  it  is  possible  for  hu- 
man nature  to  attain  sinlessness,  from  whom 
can  we  more  clearly  learn  this  than  from  those 
who  "have  crucified  the  flesh  with  its  faults 
and  lusts,"  and  to  whom  "the  world  is  really 
crucified  "  ?  2  Who  though  they  have  not  only 
utterly  eradicated  all  faults  from  their  hearts, 
but  also  are  trying  to  shut  out  even  the 
thought  and  recollection  of  sin,  yet  still  day 
after  day  faithfully  maintain  that  they  cannot 
even  for  a  single  hour  be  free  from  spot  of 
sin. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

That  although  we  acknowledge  that  we  cannot  be  without  sin, 
yet  still  we  ought  not  to  suspend  ourselves  from  the  Lord's 
Communion. 

Yet  we  ought  not  to  suspend  ourselves 
from  the  Lord's  Communion  because  we  con- 
fess ourselves  sinners,  but  should  more   and 


more  eagerly  hasten  to  it  for  the  healing  of 
our  soul,  and  purifying  of  our  spirit,  and  seek 
the  rather  a  remedy  for  our  wounds  with  hu- 
mility of  mind  and  faith,  as  considering  our- 
selves unworthy  to  receive  so  great  grace. 
Otherwise  we  cannot  worthily  receive  the 
Communion  even  once  a  year,  as  some  do, 
who  live  in  monasteries  and  so  regard  the 
dignity  and  holiness  and  value  of  the  heavenly 
sacraments,  as  to  think  that  none  but  saints 
and  spotless  persons  should  venture  to  receive 
them,  and  not  rather  that  they  would  make 
us  saints  and  pure  by  taking  them.  And  these 
thereby  fall  into  greater  presumption  and 
arrogance  than  what  they  seem  to  themselves 
to  avoid,  because  at  the  time  when  they  do 
receive  them,  they  consider  that  they  are 
worthy  to  receive  them.  But  it  is  much 
better  to  receive  them  every  Sunday  for  the 
healing  of  our  infirmities,  with  that  humility 
of  heart,  whereby  we  believe  and  confess  that 
we  can  never  touch  these  holy  mysteries 
worthily,  than  to  be  puffed  up  by  a  foolish 
persuasion  of  heart,  and  believe  that  at  the 
year's  end  we  are  worthy  to  receive  them. 
Wherefore  that  we  may  be  able  to  grasp  this 
and  hold  it  fruitfully,  let  us  the  more  ear- 
nestly implore  the  Lord's  mercy  to  help  us  to 
perform  this,  which  is  learnt  not  like  other 
human  arts,  by  some  previous  verbal  explana- 
tion, but  rather  by  experience  and  action 
leading  the  way;  and  which  also  unless  it  is 
often  considered  and  hammered  out  in  the 
Conferences  of  spiritual  persons,  and  an- 
xiously sifted  by  daily  experience  and  trial  of 
it,  will  either  become  obsolete  through  care- 
lessness or  perish  by  idle  forgetfulness. 


XXIV. 
CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  ABRAHAM. 

ON  MORTIFICATION. 


CHAPTER    I. 


How   we   laid   bare   the   secrets   of    our   thoughts   to   Abbot 
Abraham. 


This  twenty-fourth  Conference  of  Abbot 
Abraham  3  is  by  the  favour  of  Christ  produced, 
which  concludes  the  traditions  and  decisions 
of  all  the  Elders ;  and  when  by  the  aid  of  your 
prayers  it  has  been  finished,   as  the  number 

1  1  John  i.  8.       -    Gal.  v.  24 ;  vi.  14.       3  Cf.  the  note  on  XV.  iv. 


mystically  corresponds  to  that  of  the  four  and 
twenty  Elders  who  are  said  in  the  holy  Apo- 
calypse ~  to  offer  their  crowns  to  the  Lamb, 
we  think  that  we  shall  have  paid  the  debt  of 
all  our  promises.  And  henceforth  if  these 
four  and  twenty  Elders  of  ours  have  been 
crowned  with  any  glory  for  the  sake  of  their 
teaching,  they  shall  with  bowed  heads  offer  it 
to  the  Lamb  who  was  slain  for  the  salvation 
of  the  world :  for  He  it  was  Who  vouschafed 

4  Rev.  iv.  4. 


532 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


for  the  honour  of  His  name  to  grant  to  them 
such  exalted  feelings  and  to  us  whatever 
words  were  needful  to  set  forth  such  profound 
thoughts.  And  the  merits  of  His  gift  must 
be  referred  to  the  Author  of  all  good,  to  whom 
the  more  is  owed,  as  the  more  is  paid.  There- 
fore with  anxious  confession  we  laid  before 
this  Abraham  the  impulse  of  our  thoughts, 
whereby  we  were  urged  by  daily  perplexities 
of  our  mind  to  return  to  our  country  and  re- 
visit our  kinsfolk.  For  from  this  the  greatest 
reason  for  our  desire  sprang,  because  we  re- 
membered that  our  kinsfolk  were  endowed 
with  such  piety  and  goodness  that  we  felt  sure 
that  they  would  never  interfere  with  our  pur- 
pose, and  we  constantly  reflected,  that  we 
should  gain  more  good  out  of  their  earnest- 
ness, and  should  be  hampered  by  no  cares 
about  bodily  matters,  and  no  trouble  in  pro- 
viding food,  as  they  would  gladly  minister 
abundantly  to  the  supply  of  all  our  wants,  and 
besides  this  we  were  feeding  our  souls  on  the 
hope  of  empty  joys,  as  we  thought  that  we 
should  gain  the  greatest  good  from  the  con- 
version1 of  many,  who  were  to  be  turned  to 
the  way  of  salvation  by  our  example  and  in- 
structions. Then  besides  this  the  very  spot, 
where  was  the  ancestral  possession  of  our 
forefathers,  and  the  delightful  pleasantness  of 
the  neighbourhood  was  painted  before  our 
eyes,  how  pleasantly  and  suitably  it  stretched 
away  to  the  desert,  so  that  the  recesses  of  the 
woods  would  not  only  delight  the  heart  of 
a  monk,  but  would  also  furnish  him  with  a 
plentiful  supply  of  food.2  And  when  we  ex- 
plained all  this  to  the  aforesaid  old  man,  in 
a  straightforward  way,  according  to  the  faith 
of  our  consience,  and  showed  by  our  copious 
tears  that  we  could  no  longer  resist  the  vio- 
lence of  the  impulse,  unless  the  grace  of  God 
came  to  our  rescue  by  the  healing  which  he 
could  give,  he  waited  for  a  long  time  in  silence 
and  at  last  sighed  deeply  and  said: 


CHAPTER   II. 

How  the  old  man  exposed  our  errors. 

The  feebleness  of  your  ideas  shows  that 
you  have  not  yet  renounced  worldly  desires 
nor  mortified  your  former  lusts.  For  as  the 
wandering  character  of  your  desires  testifies 
to  the  sloth  of  your  heart,  this  pilgrimage  and 
absence  from  your  kinsfolk,  which  you  ought 
rather  to  endure  with  your  heart,  you  do  en- 
dure only  with  the  flesh.     For  all  these  things 


1  Petschenig's  text  reads  conversione,  others  conversatione. 

2  On  the  bearing  of  this  passage  on  the  question  of  Cassian's 
nationality  see  the  Introd.,  p.  1S3. 


would  have  been  buried  and  altogether  driven 
out  of  your  hearts,  if  you  had  got  hold  of  the 
right  method  of  renunciation,  and  the  main 
reason  for  the  solitude  in  which  we  dwell. 
And  so  I  see  that  you  are  labouring  under 
that  infirmity  of  sluggishness,  which  is  thus 
described  in  Proverbs :  "  Every  sluggard  is 
always  desiring  something;"  and  again: 
"Desires  kill  the  slothful."3  For  in  our  case 
too  these  supplies  of  worldly  conveniences, 
which  you  have  described,  would  not  be  want- 
ing, if  we  believed  that  they  were  appropriate 
to  our  calling,  or  thought  that  we  could  get 
out  of  those  delights  and  pleasures  as  much 
profit  as  that  which  is  gained  from  this  squalor 
of  the  country  and  bodily  affliction.  Nor  are 
we  so  deprived  of  the  solace  of  our  kinsfolk, 
that  those  who  delight  to  support  us  with  their 
substance  should  fail  us,  were  it  not  that  this 
saying  of  the  Saviour  meets  us  and  excludes 
everything  that  contributes  to  the  support  of 
this  flesh,  as  He  says:  "He  who  doth  not 
leave  (or  hate)  father  and  mother  and  child- 
ren and  brethren  cannot  be  My  disciple."4 
But  if  we  were  altogether  deprived  of  the  pro- 
tection of  our  parents,  the  services  of  the 
princes  of  this  world  would  not  be  wanting, 
as  they  would  most  thankfully  rejoice  to 
minister  to  our  necessities  with  prompt  liber- 
ality. And  supported  by  their  bounty,  we 
should  be  free  from  the  care  of  preparing 
food,  were  it  not  that  this  curse  of  the  prophet 
terribly  frightened  us.  For  "Cursed,"  he 
says,  "is  the  man  that  putteth  his  hope  in 
.man;"  and:  "  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes."  5 
We  should  also  at  any  rate  place  our  cells  on 
the  banks  of  the  river  Nile  and  have  water 
at  our  very  doors,  so  as  not  to  be  obliged 
to  carry  it  on  our  necks  for  four  miles,  were  it 
not  that  the  blessed  Apostle  rendered  us  inde- 
fatigable in  enduring  this  labour,  and  cheered 
us  by  his  words,  saying:  "Every  one  shall  re- 
ceive his  own  reward  according  to  his  labour. "  G 
Nor  are  we  ignorant  that  there  are  even  in  our 
country  some  pleasant  recesses,  where  plenty 
of  fruits,  and  pleasant  gardens,  and  fertile 
ground  would  furnish  the  food  we  need  with 
the  slightest  bodily  efforts  on  our  part,  were  it 
not  that  we  were  afraid  lest  that  reproach  might 
apply  to  us,  which  is  directed  against  the  rich 
man  in  the  gospel :  "  Because  thou  hast  received 
thy  consolation  in  this  life."  7  But  as  we  des- 
pise all  these  things  and  scorn  them  together 
with  all  the  pleasures  of  this  world,  we  delight 
only  in  this  squalor,  and  prefer  to  all  luxuries 
this  dreadful  and  vast  desert,  and  cannot 
compare  any  riches  of  a  fertile  soil  to  these 


3  Prov.  xiii.  4  ;  xxi.  25. 

4  S.  Luke  xiv.  26. 

5  Jer.  xvii.  5 ;  Ps.  cxlv.  (cxlvi.)  2. 


6  1  Cor.  iii.  8. 

7  S.  Luke  xvi.  25. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT    ABRAHAM. 


barren  sands,  as  we  pursue  no  temporal  gains 
of  this  body,  but  the  eternal  rewards  of  the 
spirit.  For  it  is  but  little  for  a  monk  to  have 
once  made  his  renunciation,  i.e.,  in  the  early 
days  of  his  conversion  to  have  disregarded  the 
present  world,  unless  he  continues  to  renounce 
it  daily.  For  to  the  very  end  of  this  life  we 
must  with  the  prophet  say  this:  "And  I  have 
not  desired  the  day  of  man,  Thou  knowest."  l 
Wherefore  also  the  Lord  says  in  the  gospel : 
"If  any  man  will  come  after  Me,  let  him 
deny  himself  and  take  up  his  cross  daily  and 
follow  Me."2 

CHAPTER   III. 

Of  the  character  of   the  districts  which  anchorites  ought  to 
seek. 

And  therefore  by  him  who  is  exercising 
anxious  care  over  the  purity  of  his  inner  man, 
those  districts  should  be  sought,  which  do  not 
by  their  fruitfulness  and  fertility  invite  his 
mind  to  the  trouble  of  cultivating  them,  nor 
drive  him  forth  from  his  fixed  and  immovable 
position  in  his  cell,  and  force  him  to  go  forth 
to  some  work  in  the  open  air,  and  so,  his 
thoughts  being  as  it  were  poured  forth  openly, 
scatter  to  the  winds  all  his  concentration  of 
mind  and  all  the  keenness  of  his  vision  of  his 
aim.  And  this  cannot  be  guarded  against  or 
seen  by  anyone  at  all  however  careful  and 
watchful,  except  one  who  continually  keeps 
his  body  and  soul  shut  up  and  enclosed  in 
walls,  that,  like  a  splendid  fisherman,  looking 
out  for  food  for  himself  by  the  apostolic  art, 
he  may  eagerly  and  without  moving  catch  the 
swarms  of  thoughts  swimming  in  the  calm 
depths  of  his  heart,  and  surveying  with  cu- 
rious eye  the  depths  as  from  a  high  rock,  may 
sagaciously  and  cunningly  decide  what  he 
ought  to  lure  to  himself  by  his  saving  hook, 
and  what  he  can  neglect  and  reject  as  bad  and 
nasty  fishes. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

What  sorts  of  work  should  be  chosen  by  solitaries. 

Everyone  therefore  who  constantly  perse- 
veres in  this  watchfulness  will  effectually  ful- 
fil what  is  very  plainly  expressed  by  the 
prophet  Habakkuk:  "I  will  stand  upon  my 
watch,  and  ascend  upon  the  rock,  and  will 
look  out  to  see  what  He  shall  say  to  me,  and 
what  I  may  answer  to  Him  that  reproveth 
me."  3  And  how  difficult  and  tiresome  this  is, 
is  very  clearly  shown  by  the  experience  of  those 
who  live  in  the  desert  of  Calamus  or  Porphy- 


1  Jer.  xvii.  16.       2  S.  Luke  ix.  23.       <»  Hab.  ii.  1.  (LXX.). 


rion.4  For  though  they  are  separated  from 
all  the  cities  and  dwellings  of  men  by  a  longer 
stretch  of  desert  than  the  wilderness  of  Scete 
(since  by  penetrating  seven  or  eight  days' 
journey  into  the  recesses  of  the  vast  wilder- 
ness, they  scarcely  arrive  at  their  hiding  places 
and  cells)  yet  because  there  they  are  devoted 
to  agriculture  and  not  in  the  least  confined  to 
the  cloister,  whenever  they  come  to  these 
squalid  districts  in  which  we  are  living,  or  to 
Scete,  they  are  annoyed  by  such  harassing 
thoughts  and  such  anxiety  of  mind  that,  as  if 
they  were  beginners  and  men  who  had  never 
given  the  slightest  attention  to  the  exercises 
of  solitude,  they  cannot  endure  the  life  of  the 
cells  and  the  peace  and  quietness  of  them, 
and  are  at  once  driven  forth  and  obliged  to 
leave  them,  as  if  they  were  inexperienced  and 
novices.  For  they  have  not  learnt  to  still  the 
motions  of  the  inner  man,  and  to  quell  the 
tempests  of  their  thoughts  by  anxious  care  and 
persevering  efforts,  as,  toiling  day  after  day 
in  work  in  the  open  air,  they  are  moving  about 
all  day  long  in  empty  space,  not  only  in  the 
flesh  but  also  in  heart;  and  pour  forth  their 
thoughts  openly  as  the  body  moves  hither  and 
thither.  And  therefore  they  do  not  notice  the 
folly  of  their  mind  in  longing  for  many  things, 
nor  can  they  put  a  check  upon  its  vague  dis- 
cursiveness ;  and  as  they  cannot  bear  sorrow 
of  spirit  they  think  that  the  fact  of  a  continu- 
ance of  silence  is  unendurable,  and  those  who 
are  never  tired  by  hard  work  in  the  country, 
are  beaten  by  silence  and  worn  out  by  the 
length  of  their  rest. 


CHAPTER   V. 

That  anxiety  of  heart  is   made  worse  rather  than  better  by 
restlessness  of  body. 

Nor  is  it  wonderful  if  one  who  lives  in  a 
cell,  having  his  thoughts  collected  together  as 
it  were  in  a  narrow  cloister,  is  oppressed  by  a 
multitude  of  anxieties,  which  break  out  with 
the  man  himself  from  the  confinement  of  the 
dwelling,  and  at  once  dash  here  and  there  like 
wild  horses.  But  while  they  are  now  roaming 
at  large  from  their  stalls,  for  the  moment 
some  short  and  sad  solace  is  enjoyed:  but 
when,  after  the  body  has  returned  to  its  own 
cell,  the  whole  troop  of  thoughts  retires  again 
to  its  proper  home,  the  habit  of  chronic  licence 
gives  rise  to  worse  pangs.  Those  then  who 
are  unable  and  ignorant  how  to  struggle 
against  the  promptings  of  their  own  fancies, 
when  they  are  harassed  in  their  cell,  by 
accidie  attacking  their  bosom  more  violently 


*  Cf.  Institutes  X.  xxiv. 


534 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


than  usual,  if  they  relax  their  strict  rule  and 
allow  themselves  the  liberty  of  going  out 
oftener,  will  arouse  a  worse  plague  against 
themselves  by  means  of  this  which  they  fancy 
is  a  remedy:  just  as  men  fancy  that  they  can 
check  the  violence  of  an  inward  fever  by  a 
draught  of  the  coldest  water,  though  it  is  a 
fact  that  by  it  its  fire  is  inflamed  rather  than 
quenched,  as  a  far  worse  attack  follows  after 
the  momentary  alleviation. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

A  comparison  showing  how  a  monk  ought  to  keep  guard  over 
his  thoughts. 

Wherefore  a  monk's  whole  attention 
should  thus  be  fixed  on  one  point,  and  the 
rise  and  circle  of  all  his  thoughts  be  vigor- 
ously restricted  to  it;  viz.,  to  the  recollection 
of  God,  as  when  a  man,  who  is  anxious  to 
raise  on  high  a  vault  of  a  round  arch,  must 
constantly  draw  a  line  round  from  its  exact 
centre,  and  in  accordance  with  the  sure  stand- 
ard it  gives  discover  by  the  laws  of  building 
all  the  evenness  and  roundness  required.  But 
if  anyone  tries  to  finish  it  without  ascertain- 
ing its  centre- — though  with  the  utmost  confi- 
dence in  his  art  and  ability,  it  is  impossible 
for  him  to  keep  the  circumference  even,  with- 
out any  error,  or  to  find  out  simply  by  looking 
at  it  how  much  he  has  taken  off  by  his  mistake 
from  the  beauty  of  real  roundness,  unless  he 
always  has  -recourse  to  that  test  of  truth  and 
by  its  decision  corrects  the  inner  and  outer 
edge  of  his  work,  and  so  finishes  the  large 
and  lofty  pile  to  the  exact  point.1  So  also 
our  mind,  unless  by  working  round  the  love 
of  the  Lord  alone  as  an  immovably  fixed 
centre,  through  all  the  circumstances  of  our 
works  and  contrivances,  it  either  fits  or  rejects 
the  character  of  all  our  thoughts  by  the  excel- 
lent compasses,  if  I  may  so  say,  of  love, 
will  never  by  excellent  skill  build  up  the 
structure  of  that  spiritual  edifice  of  which 
Paul  is  the  architect,  nor  possess  that  beauti- 
ful house,  which  the  blessed  David  desired 
in  his  heart  to  show  to  the  Lord  and  said :  "  I 
have  loved  the  beauty  of  Thine  house  and  the 
place  of  the  dwelling  of  Thy  glory;"2  but 
will  without  foresight  raise  in  his  heart  a 
house  that  is  not  beautiful,  and  that  is  un- 
worthy of  the  Holy  Ghost,  one  that  will  pres- 
ently fall,  and  so  will  receive  no  glory  from 
the  reception  of  the  blessed  Inhabitant,  but 
will  be  miserably  destroyed  by  the  fall  of  his 
building. 


1   Unius  pu?ictilege. 


Ps.  xxv.  (xxvi.)  S. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

A  question  why  the  neighbourhood  of  our  kinsfolk  is  considered 
to  interfere  with  us,  whereas  it  does  not  interfere  in  the  case 
of  those  living  in  Egypt. 

Germanus  :  It  is  a  very  useful  and  needful 
rule  that  is  given  for  the  kind  of  works  that 
can  be  done  within  the  cells.  For  we  have 
often  proved  the  value  of  this  not  only  by  the 
example  of  your  holiness,  based  on  the  imita- 
tion of  the  virtues  of  the  apostles,  but  also  by 
our  own  experience.  But  it  is  not  sufficiently 
clear  why  we  ought  so  thoroughly  to  avoid  the 
neighbourhood  of  our  kinsfolk,  which  you  did 
not  reject  altogether.  For  if  we  see  you, 
blamelessly  walking  in  all  the  Avay  of  perfec- 
tion, and  not  only  dwelling  in  your  own 
country  but  some  of  you  having  not  even  re- 
tired far  from  their  own  village,  why  should 
that  which  does  not  hurt  you  be  considered 
bad  for  us  ? 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

The  answer  that  all  things  are  not  suitable  for  all  men. 

Abraham  :  Sometimes  we  see  bad  prece- 
dents taken  from  good  things.  For  if  a  man 
ventures  to  do  the  same  thing  as  another,  but 
not  with  the  same  mind  and  purpose,  or  not 
with  equal  goodness,  he  will  immediately  fall 
into  the  snares  of  deception  and  death  through 
the  very  things  from  which  others  gain  the 
fruit  of  eternal  life :  As  that  strong  armed  lad 
matched  with  the  warlike  giant  in  the  combat 
would  certainly  have  found,  if  he  had  been 
clad  in  the  heavy  armour  of  Saul  fit  only  for 
men ;  and  that  by  which  one  of  stronger  age 
would  have  laid  low  countless  hosts  of  foes, 
would  only  have  brought  certain  danger  to  the 
stripling,  had  he  not  with  prudent  discretion 
chosen  the  sort  of  weapons  suitable  to  his 
youth,  and  armed  himself  against  his  foul  foe 
not  with  breastplate  and  shield,  with  which 
he  saw  that  others  were  equipped,  but  with 
those  weapons  with  which  he  was  able  to 
fight.  Wherefore  it  is  right  for  each  one  of 
us  first  to  consider  carefully  the  measure  of 
his  powers  and  in  accordance  with  its  limits, 
to  choose  what  system  he  pleases,  because 
though  all  are  good,  yet  all  things  cannot  be 
fit  for  all  men.  For  we  do  not  assert  that  be- 
cause the  anchorite's  life  is  good,  it  is  there- 
fore suited  for  everybody:  for  by  many  it  is 
felt  to  be  not  only  useless,  but  even  injurious. 
Xor  because  we  are  right  in  taking  up  the 
system  of  the  coenobium  and  the  pious  and 
praiseworthy  care  of  the  brethren,  do  we  there- 
fore consider  that  it  ought  to  be  followed  by 
everybody.      So  also  the  fruits  of  the  care  of 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   ABRAHAM. 


535 


strangers  are  very  plentiful,  but  this  cannot  be 
taken  up  by  everybody  without  loss  of  pa- 
tience. Further,  the  systems  of  your  country 
and  of  this  must  first  be  weighed  against  each 
other;  and  then  the  powers  of  men  gathered 
from  the  constant  occurrence  of  their  virtues 
or  vices  must  be  severally  weighed  in  the  op- 
posite scales.  For  it  may  happen  that  what 
is  difficult  or  impossible  for  a  man  of  one 
nation  in  the  case  of  others  is  somehow 
turned  by  ingrained  habit  into  nature :  just  as 
some  nations,  separated  by  a  wide  difference 
of  region,  can  bear  tremendous  force  of  cold 
or  heat  of  the  sun  without  any  covering  of  the 
body,  which  certainly  others  who  have  no  ex- 
perience of  that  inclement  sky,  could  not  pos- 
sibly endure,  however  strong  they  may  be. 
So  also  do  you  who  with  the  utmost  efforts  of 
mind  and  body  are  trying  in  this  district  to 
get  the  better  of  the  nature  of  your  country  in 
many  respects,  diligently  consider  whether 
in  those  regions  which,  as  report  says,  are 
frozen,  and  bound  by  the  cold  of  excessive 
unbelief,  you  could  endure  this  nakedness,  if 
I  may  so  term  it.  For  to  us  the  fact  that  our 
holy  life  is  of  long  standing  has  almost  natu- 
rally imparted  this  fortitude  in  our  purpose, 
and  if  we  see  that  you  are  our  equals  in  virtue 
and  constancy,  you  in  like  manner  need  not 
shun  the  neighbourhood  of  your  kinsfolk  and 
brethren. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

That  those  need  not  fear  the  neighbourhood  of  their  kinsfolk, 
who  can  emulate  the  mortification  of  Abbot  Apollos. 

But  that  you  may  be  able  fairly  to  measure 
the  amount  of  your  strength  by  a  certain  test 
of  strictness  I  will  point  out  to  you  what 
was  done  by  a  certain  old  man;  viz.,  Abbot 
Apollos  x  that  if  your  secret  scrutiny  of  your 
heart  decides  that  you  are  not  behind  this 
man  in  purpose  and  goodness,  you  may  ven- 
ture on  remaining  in  your  country  and  living 
near  your  kinsfolk  without  detriment  to  your 
purpose  or  injury  to  your  mode  of  life,  and  be 
sure  that  neither  the  feeling  of  nearness  nor 
your  love  for  the  district  can  interfere  with 
the  strictness  of  this  humble  lot,2 which  not 
only  your  own  will  but  the  needs  also  of  your 
pilgrimage  enforce  upon  you  in  this  country. 
When  then  his  own  brother  had  come  to  this 
old  man,  whom  we  have  mentioned,  in  the 
dead  of  night,  begging  him  to  come  out  for  a 
little  while  from  his  monastery,  to  help  him 
to  rescue  an  ox,  which  as  he  sadly  complained 
had  stuck  in  the  mire  of  a  swamp  a  little  way 
off,  because  he   could  not  possibly  rescue  it 


1  Cf.  the  note  on  II.  xiii. 


2  Cf.  the  note  on  XIX.  iii. 


alone,  Abbot  Apollos  stolidly  replied  to  his 
entreaties  :  "  Why  did  you  not  ask  our  younger 
brother  who  was  nearer  to  you  as  you  passed 
by  than  I  ?  "  and  when  the  other,  thinking  that 
he  had  forgotten  the  death  of  his  brother  who 
had  been  long  ago  buried,  and  that  he  was 
almost  weak  in  his  mind  from  excessive  abstin- 
ence and  continual  solitude,  replied:  "How 
could  I  summon  one  who  died  fifteen  years 
ago  ?  "  Abbot  Apollos  said  :  "  Don't  you  know 
that  I  too  have  been  dead  to  this  world  for 
twenty  years,  and  that  I  can't  from  my  tomb 
in  this  cell  give  you  any  assistance  in  what 
belongs  to  the  affairs  of  this  present  life? 
And  Christ  is  so  far  from  allowing  me  ever  so 
little  to  relax  my  purpose  of  mortification  on 
which  I  have  entered,  for  extricating  your  ox, 
that  He  did  not  even  permit  the  very  shortest 
intermission  of  it  for  my  father's  funeral, 
which  would  have  been  undertaken  much  more 
readily  properly  and  piously.  "  And  so  do  ye 
now  search  out  the  secrets  of  your  breast  and 
carefully  consider  whether  you  also  can  con- 
tinually preserve  such  strictness  of  mind  with 
regard  to  your  kinsfolk,  and  when  you  find 
that  you  are  like  him  in  this  mortification  of 
soul,  then  at  last  you  may  know  that  in  the 
same  way  the  neighbourhood  of  your  kinsfolk 
and  brothers  will  not  hurt  you,  when,  I  mean, 
you  hold  that  though  they  are  very  close  to 
you,  you  are  dead  to  them,  in  such  a  way 
that  you  suffer  neither  them  to  be  benefited 
by  your  assistance,  nor  yourselves  to  be  re- 
laxed by  duties  towards  them. 


CHAPTER   X. 

A  question  whether  it  is  bad  for  a  monk  to  have  his  wants 
supplied  by  his  kinsfolk. 

Germanus:  On  this  subject  you  have  cer- 
tainly left  no  room  for  any  further  uncertainty. 
!  For  we  are  sure  that  we  cannot  possibly  keep 
!  up  our  present  wretched  garb,  or  our  daily  go- 
ing barefoot  in  their  neighbourhood,  and  that 
there  we  should  not  even   procure  with  the 
same  labour  what  is  necessary  for  our  suste- 
nance,   as   here  we   are   actually   obliged   to 
'  fetch  our  water  on  our  necks  for  three  miles. 
For  shame  on  our  part  as  well  as   on   theirs 
i  would  not  in  the  least  allow  us  to  do  this  be- 
j  fore  them.      However  how  will  it  hurt  our  plan 
■  of  life  if  we  are  altogether  set  free  from  anxiety 
on  the  score  of  preparing  our  food,  by  being 
supplied  by  them  with  all  things,  and  so  give 
ourselves  up  simply  to   reading   and   prayer, 
that  by  the  removal  of  that  labour  with  which 
we  are  now  distracted  we   may  devote  our- 
selves  more    earnestly  to   spiritual    interests 
i  alone? 


536 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

The  answer  stating  what   Saint  Antony  laid  down  on   this 
matter. 

Abraham  :  I  will  not  give  you  my  own 
opinion  against  this,  but  that  of  the  blessed 
Antony,  whereby  he  confounded  the  laziness 
of  a  certain  brother  (overcome  by  this  luke- 
warmness  which  you  describe)  in  such  a  way 
as  also  to  cut  the  knot  of  your  subject.  For 
when  one  came  as  I  said  to  the  aforesaid  old 
man,  and  said  that  the  Anchorite  system  was 
not  at  all  to  be  admired,  declaring  that  it 
required  greater  virtue  for  a  man  to  practise 
what  belongs  to  perfection  living  among  men 
rather  than  in  the  desert,  the  blessed  Antony 
asked  where  he  lived  himself,  and  when  he 
said  that  he  lived  close  to  his  relations,  and 
boasted  that  by  their  provision  he  was  set  free 
from  all  care  and  anxiety  of  daily  work,  and 
gave  himself  up  ceaselessly  and  solely  to  read- 
ing and  prayer  without  any  distraction  of 
spirit,  once  more  the  blessed  Antony  said: 
"Tell  me,  my  good  friend,  whether  you  grieve 
with  their  griefs  and  misfortunes,  and  in  the 
same  way  rejoice  in  their  good  fortune  ?  "  He 
confessed  that  he  shared  in  them  both.  To 
whom  the  old  man:  "You  should  know,"  said 
he,  "that  in  the  world  to  come  also  you  will 
be  judged  in  the  lot  of  those  with  whom  in 
this  life  you  have  been  affected  by  sharing  in 
their  gain  or  loss,  or  joy  or  sorrow."  And 
not  satisfied  with  this  statement  the  blessed 
Antony  entered  on  a  still  wider  field  of  dis- 
cussion, saying:  "This  mode  of  life  and  this 
most  lukewarm  condition  not  only  strike  you 
with  that  damage  of  which  I  spoke  (though 
you  do  not  feel  it  now,  when  somehow  you 
say  in  accordance  with  that  saying  in  Proverbs  : 
'They  strike  me  but  I  am  not  grieved  :  and 
they  mocked  me  but  I  knew  it  not;  '  or  this 
that  is  said  in  the  Prophet:  'And  strangers 
have  devoured  his  strength,  but  he  himself 
knew  it  not'1),  because  day  after  day  they 
ceaselessly  drag  down  your  mind  to  earthly 
things,  and  change  it  in  accordance  with  the 
variations  of  chance;  but  also  because  they 
defraud  you  of  the  fruits  of  your  hands  and 
the  due  reward  of  your  own  exertions,  as  they 
do  not  suffer  you  to  be  supported  by  what  these 
supply,  or  to  procure  your  daily  food  for  your- 
self with  your  own  hands,  according  to  the  rule 
of  the  blessed  Apostle,  as  he  when  giving  his 
last  charge  to  the  heads  of  the  Church  of 
Ephesus,  asserts  that  though  he  was  occupied 
with  the  sacred  duties  of  preaching  the  gos- 
pel yet  he  provided  not  only  for  himself,  but 


1  Prov.  xxiii.  35  (LXX.);   Hos.  vii.  9. 


also  for  those  who  were  prevented  by  neces- 
sary duties  with  regard  to  his  ministry,  say- 
ing: '  Ye  yourselves  know  that  these  hands 
have  ministered  to  my  necessities  and  to  the 
necessities  of  those  who  were  with  me. '  But 
to  show  that  he  did  this  as  a  pattern  to  be 
useful  to  us  he  says  elsewhere:  'We  were  not 
idle  among  you;  neither  did  we  eat  any  man's 
bread  for  nothing,  but  in  labour  and  in  toil  we 
worked  night  and  day  lest  we  should  be  char- 
geable to  any  of  you.  Not  as  if  we  had  not 
power;  but  that  we  might  give  ourselves  a 
pattern  unto  you,  to  imitate  us."2 


CHAPTER   XII. 

Of  the  value  of  work  and  the  harm  of  idleness. 

And  so  though  we  also  might  have  the  pro- 
tection of  our  kinsfolk,  yet  we  have  preferred 
this  abstinence  to  all  riches,  and  have  chosen 
to  procure  our  daily  bodily  sustenance  by  our 
own  exertions  rather  than  rely  on  the  sure 
provision  made  by  our  relations,  having  less  in- 
clination for  idle  meditation  on  holy  Scripture 
of  which  you  have  spoken,  and  that  fruit- 
less attendance  to  reading  than  to  this  labor- 
ious poverty.  And  certainly  we  should  most 
gladly  pursue  the  former,  if  the  authority  of 
the  apostles  had  taught  us  by  their  examples 
that  it  was  better  for  us,  or  the  rules  of  the 
Elders  had  laid  it  down  for  our  good.  But 
you  must  know  that  you  are  affected  by  this 
no  less  than  by  that  harm  of  which  I  spoke 
above,  because  though  your  body  may  be  sound 
and  lusty,  yet  you  are  supported  by  another's 
contributions,  a  thing  which  properly  belongs 
only  to  the  feeble.  For  certainly  the  whole 
human  race,  except  only  that  class  of  monks, 
who  live  in  accordance  with  the  Apostle's 
command  by  the  daily  labours  of  their  own 
hands,  looks  for  the  charity  of  another's  com- 
passion. Wherefore  it  is  clear  that  not  only 
those  who  boast  that  they  themselves  are  sup- 
ported either  by  the  wealth  of  their  relations 
or  the  labours  of  their  servants  or  the  produce 
of  their  farms,  but  also  the  kings  of  this  world 
are  supported  by  charity.  This  at  any  rate  is 
embraced  in  the  definition  of  our  predeces- 
sors, who  have  laid  down  that  anything  that 
is  taken  for  the  requirements  of  daily  food 
which  has  not  been  procured  and  prepared  by 
the  labour  of  our  own  hands,  ought  to  be  re- 
ferred toj  charity,  as  the  Apostle  teaches,  who 
altogether  forbids  the  help  of  another's  bounty 
to  the  idle  and  says:  "If  a  man  does  not 
work,   neither  let  him  eat."3     These  words 


2  Acts  xx.  34;  2  Thess.  iii.  7,  9. 


3  2  Thess.  iii.  10. 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   ABRAHAM. 


537 


the  blessed  Antony  used  against  some  one,  and 
instructed  us  also  by  the  example  of  his  teach- 
ing, to  shun  the  pernicious  allurements  of  our 
relations  and  of  all  who  provide  the  needful 
charity  for  our  food  as  well  as  the  delights  of 
a  pleasant  home,  and  to  prefer  to  all  the 
wealth  of  this  world  sandy  wastes  horrid  with 
the  barrenness  of  nature,  and  districts  over- 
whelmed by  living  incrustations,  and  for  that 
reason  subject  to  no  control  or  dominion  of 
man,  so  that  we  should  not  only  avoid  the 
society  of  men  for  the  sake  of  a  pathless 
waste,  but  also  that  the  character  of  a  fruitful 
soil  may  never  entice  us  to  the  distractions  of 
cultivating  it,  whereby  the  mind  would  be  re- 
called from  the  chief  service  of  the  heart,  and 
rendered  useless  for  spiritual  aims. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

A  story  of  a  barber"s  payments,  introduced  for  the  sake  of 
recognizing  the  devil's  illusions. 

For  as  you  hope  that  you  can  save  others 
also,  and  are  eager  to  return  to  your  country 
with  the  hope  of  greater  gain,  hear  also  on  this 
subject  a  story  of  Abbot  Macarius,  very  neatly 
and  prettily  invented,  which  he  also  gave  to  a 
man  in  a  tumult  of  similar  desires,  to  cure 
him  by  a  most  appropriate  story.  "There 
was,"  said  he,  "  in  a  certain  city  a  very  clever 
barber,  who  used  to  shave  everybody  for  three 
pence  and  by  getting  this  poor  and  wretched 
sum  for  his  work,  out  of  this  same  amount  used 
to  procure  what  was  required  for  his  daily 
food,  and  after  having  taken  all  care  of  his 
body,  used  every  day  to  put  a  hundred  pence 
into  his  pocket.  But  while  he  was  diligently 
amassing  this  gain,  he  heard  that  in  a  city  a 
long  way  off  each  man  paid  the  barber  a  shil- 
ling as  his  pay.  And  when  he  found  this  out, 
'  how  long,'  said  he,  'shall  I  be  satisfied  with 
this  beggary,  so  as  to  get  with  my  labour  a 
pay  of  three  pence,  when  by  going  thither  I 
might  amass  riches  by  a  large  gain  of  shil- 
lings? '  And  so  at  once  taking  with  him  the 
implements  of  his  art,  and  using  up  in  the  ex- 
pense all  that  he  had  got  together  and  saved 
during  a  long  time,  he  made  his  way  with 
great  difficulty  to  that  most  lucrative  city. 
And  there  on  the  day  of  his  arrival,  he  re- 
ceived from  everyone  the  pay  for  his  labour  in 
accordance  with  what  he  had  heard,  and  at 
eventide  seeing  that  he  had  gained  a  large 
number  of  shillings  he  went  in  delight  to  the 
butcher's  to  buy  the  food  he  wanted  for  his 
supper.  And  when  he  began  to  purchase  it 
for  a  large   sum  of    shillings  he  spent  on  a 


tiny  bit  of  meat  all  the  shillings  that  he  had 
gained,  and  did  not  take  home  a  surplus  of 
even  a  single  penny.  And  when  he  saw  that 
his  gains  were  thus  used  up  every  day  so  that 
he  not  only  failed  to  put  by  anything  but  could 
scarcely  get  what  he  required  for  his  daily 
food,  he  thought  over  the  matter  with  himself 
and  said:  'I  will  go  back  to  my  city,  and  once 
more  seek  those  very  moderate  profits,  from 
which,  when  all  my  bodily  wants  were  satis- 
fied, a  daily  surplus  gave  a  growing  sum  to 
support  my  old  age ;  which,  though  it  seemed 
small  and  trifling,  yet  by  being  constantly 
increased  was  amounting  to  no  slight  sum.  In 
fact  that  gain  of  coppers  was  more  profitable 
to  me  than  is  this  nominal  one  of  shillings 
from  which  not  only  is  there  nothing  over  to 
be  laid  by,  but  the  necessities  of  my  daily 
food  are  scarcely  met.  '  "  And  therefore  it 
is  better  for  us  with  unbroken  continuance 
to  aim  at  this  very  slender  profit  in  the  desert, 
from  which  no  secular  cares,  no  worldly 
distractions,  no  pride  of  vainglory  and  vanity 
can  detract,  and  which  the  pressure  of  no 
daily  wants  can  lessen  (for  "  a  small  thing 
that  the  righteous  hath  is  better  than  great 
riches  of  the  ungodly  "  x)  rather  than  to  pursue 
those  larger  profits  which  even  if  they  are 
procured  by  the  most  valuable  conversion  of 
many,  are  yet  absorbed  by  the  claims  of  secu- 
lar life  and  the  daily  leakage  of  distractions. 
For,  as  Solomon  says,  "  Better  is  a  single 
handful  with  rest  than  both  hands  full  with 
labour  and  vexation  of  mind."  2  And  in  these 
allusions  and  inconveniences  all  that  are  at  all 
weak  are  sure  to  be  entangled,  as  while  they 
are  even  doubtful  of  their  own  salvation,  and 
themselves  stand  in  need  of  the  teaching  and 
instruction  of  others,  they  are  incited  by  the 
devil's  tricks  to  convert  and  guide  others, 
and  as,  even  if  they  succeed  in  gaining  any 
advantage  from  the  conversion  of  some,  they 
waste  by  their  impatience  and  rude  manners 
whatever  they  have  gained.  For  that  will 
happen  to  them  which  is  described  by  the 
prophet  Haggai:  "And  he  that  gathereth 
riches,  putteth  them  into  a  bag  with  holes.'"3 
For  indeed  a  man  puts  his  gains  into  a  bag 
with  holes,  if  he  loses  by  want  of  self  con- 
trol and  daily  distractions  of  mind  whatever  he 
appears  to  gain  by  the  conversion  of  others. 
And  so  it  results  that  while  they  fancy  that 
they  can  make  larger,  profits  by  the  instruction 
of  others,  they  are  actually  deprived  of  their 
own  improvement.  For  "  There  are  who 
make  themselves  out  rich  though  possessing 
nothing,  and  there  are  who  humble  them- 
selves amid  great  riches;  "  and:   "  Better  is  a 


1  Ps.  xxxvi.  (xxxvii.)  16.       -  Eccl.  iv.  6.       3  Hag.  i.  6. 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


man  who  serves  himself  in  a  humble  station 
than  one  who  gains  honour  for  himself  and 
wanteth  bread."  x 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  question  how  such  wrong  notions  can  creep  into  us. 

Germanus  :  Very  aptly  has  your  discussion 
shown  the  error  of  these  illusions  by  this  il- 
lustration: but  we  should  like  in  the  same 
way  to  be  taught  its  origin  and  how  to  cure  it, 
and  we  are  equally  anxious  to  learn  how  this 
deception  has  taken  hold  of  us.  For  every- 
body must  see  that  no  one  at  all  can  apply 
remedies  to  ill  health  except  one  who  has 
already  diagnosed  the  actual  origin  of  the 
disease. 

CHAPTER   XV. 

The  answer  on  the  threefold  movement  of  the  soul. 

Abraham-:  Of  all  faults  there  is  one  source 
and  origin,  but  different  names  are  assigned 
to  the  passions  and  corruptions  in  accord- 
ance with  the  character  of  that  part,  or  mem- 
ber, if  I  may  so  call  it,  which  has  been 
injuriously  affected  in  the  soul :  As  is  some- 
times also  shown  by  the  case  of  bodily  dis- 
eases, in  which  though  the  cause  is  one  and  the 
same,  yet  there  is  a  division  into  different 
kinds  of  maladies  in  accordance  with  the 
nature  of  the  member  affected.  For  when  the 
violence  of  a  noxious  moisture  has  seized  on 
the  body's  citadel,  i.e.,  the  head,  it  brings 
about  a  feeling  of  headache,  but  when  it 
affects  the  ears  or  eyes,  it  passes  into  the 
malady  of  earache  or  ophthalmia:  when  it 
spreads  to  the  joints  and  the  extremities  of 
the  hands  it  is  called  the  gout  in  the  joints  or 
hands ;  but  when  it  descends  to  the  extremities 
of  the  feet,  its  name  is  changed  and  it  is 
termed  podagra:  and  the  noxious  moisture 
which  is  originally  one  and  the  same  is 
described  by  as  many  names  as  there  are  se- 
parate members  which  it  affects.  In  the  same 
way  to  pass  from  visible  to  invisible  things, 
we  should  hold  that  the  tendency  to  each  fault 
exists  in  the  parts  and,  if  I  may  use  the  ex- 
pression, members  of  our  soul.  And,  as  some 
very  wise  men  have  laid  down  that  its  powers 
are  threefold,  either  what  is  Ac/ufor,  i.e.,  rea- 
sonable, or  duuixuv,  i.e.,  irascible,  or  im 
dvuj\nxb1',  i.e.,  subject  to  desire,  is  sure  to 
be  troubled  by  some  assault.  When  then  the 
force  of  noxious  passion  takes  possession 
of   anyone  by  reason  of   these  feelings,    the 

1  Prov.  xiii.  7  ;  xii.  9. 


name  of  the  fault  is  given  to  it  in  accordance 
with  the  part  affected.  For  if  the  plague  of 
sin  has  infested  its  rational  parts,  it  will 
produce  the  sins  of  vainglory,  conceit,  envy, 
pride,  presumption,  strife,  heresy.  If  it  has 
wounded  the  irascible  feelings,  it  will  give 
birth  to  rage,  impatience,  sulkiness,  accidie, 
pusillanimity  and  cruelty.  If  it  has  affected 
that  part  which  is  subject  to  desire,  it  will  be 
the  parent  of  gluttony,  fornication,  covet- 
ousness,  avarice,  and  noxious  and  earthly 
desires. 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

That  the  rational  part  of  our  soul  is  corrupt. 

And  therefore  if  you  want  to  discover  the 
source  and  origin  of  this  fault,  you  must 
recognize  that  the  rational  part  of  your  mind 
and  soul  is  corrupt,  that  part  namely  from 
which  the  faults  of  presumption  and  vainglory 
for  the  most  part  spring.  Further  this  first 
member,  so  to  speak,  of  your  soul  must  be 
healed  by  the  judgment  of  a  right  discretion 
and  the  virtue  of  humility,  as  when  it  is 
injured,  while  you  fancy  that  you  can  not 
only  still  scale  the  heights  of  perfection  but 
actually  teach  others,  and  hold  that  you  are 
capable  and  sufficient  to  instruct  others, 
through  the  pride  of  vainglory  you  are  carried 
away  by  these  vain  rovings,  which  your  con- 
fession discloses.  And  these  you  will  then 
be  able  to  get  rid  of  without  difficulty,  if  you 
are  established  as  I  said  in  the  humility  of 
true  discretion  and  learn  with  sorrow  of  heart 
how  hard  and  difficult  a  thing  it  is  for  each  of 
us  to  save  his  soul,  and  admit  with  the  inmost 
feelings  of  your  heart  that  you  are  not  only 
far  removed  from  that  pride  of  teaching,  but 
that  you  are  actually  still  in  need  of  the  help 
of  a  teacher. 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

How  the  weaker  part  of  the  soul  is  the  first  to  yield  to  the 
devil's  temptations. 

You  should  then  apply  to  this  member  or 
part  of  the  soul  which  we  have  described  as 
particularly  wounded,  the  remedy  of  true 
humility:  for  as,  so  far  as  appears,  it  is 
weaker  than  the  other  powers  of  the  soul  in 
you,  it  is  sure  to  be  the  first  to  yield  to  the 
assaults  of  the  devil.  As  when  some  injuries 
come  upon  us,  which  are  caused  either  by  toil 
laid  upon  us  or  by  a  bad  atmosphere,  it  is 
generally  the  case  in  the  bodies  of  men  that 
those  which  are  the  weaker  are  the  first  to 
give  in  and  yield  to  those  chances,  and  when 
the  disease  has  more  particularly  laid  hold 


CONFERENCE    OF   ABBOT   ABRAHAM. 


539 


of  them,  it  affects  the  sound  parts  of  the  body 
also  with  the  same  mischief,  so  also,  when 
the  pestilent  blast  of  sin  breathes  over  us 
the  soul  of  each  one  of  us  is  sure  to  be 
tempted  above  all  by  that  passion,  in  the  case 
of  which  its  feebler  and  weaker  portion  does 
not  make  so  stubborn  a  resistance  to  the  pow- 
erful attacks  of  the  foe,  and  to  run  the  risk  of 
being  taken  captive  by  those,  in  the  case  of 
which  a  careless  watch  opens  an  easier  way 
to  betrayal.  For  so  Balaam  x  gathered  that 
God's  people  could  be  by  a  sure  method 
deceived,  when  he  advised,  that  in  that  quar- 
ter, wherein  he  knew  that  the  children  of 
Israel  were  weak,  the  dangerous  snares  should 
be  set  for  them,  as  he  had  no  doubt  that  when 
a  supply  of  women  was  offered  to  them,  they 
would  at  once  fall  and  be  destroyed  by  forni- 
cation, because  he  was  aware  that  the  parts  of 
their  souls  which  were  subject  to  desire  were 
corrupted.  So  then  the  spiritual  wicked- 
nesses tempt  with  crafty  malice  each  one  of 
us,  by  particularly  laying  insidious  snares  for 
those  affections  of  the  soul,  in  which  they 
have  seen  that  it  is  weak,  as  for  instance,  if 
they  see  that  the  reasonable  parts  of  our  soul 
are  affected,  they  try  to  deceive  us  in  the 
same  way  that  the  Scripture  tells  us  that  king 
Ahab  was  deceived  by  those  Syrians,  who 
said:  "We  know  that  the  kings  of  Israel  are 
merciful :  And  so  let  us  put  sackcloth  upon 
our  loins,  and  ropes  round  our  heads,  and  go 
out  to  the  king  of  Israel,  and  say  to  him : 
Thy  servant  Benhadad  saith :  I  pray  thee,  let 
my  soul  live."  And  thereby  he  was  affected 
by  no  true  goodness,  but  by  the  empty  praise 
of  his  clemency,  and  said:  "  If  he  still  liveth, 
he  is  my  brother;  "  and  after  this  fashion  they 
can  deceive  us  also  by  the  error  of  that  rea- 
sonable part,  and  make  us  incur  the  displeas- 
ure of  God  owing  to  that  from  which  we  were 
hoping  that  we  might  gain  a  reward  and  re- 
ceive the  recompense  of  goodness,  and  to  us 
too  the  same  rebuke  may  be  addressed :  "  Be- 
cause thou  hast  let  go  from  thy  hand  a  man 
who  was  worthy  of  death,  thy  life  shall  be  for 
his  life,  and  thy  people  for  his  people."2  Or 
when  the  unclean  spirit  says :  "  I  will  go  forth, 
and  will  be  a  lying  spirit  in  the  mouth  of  all 
his  prophets,"3  he  certainly  spread  the  nets 
of  deception  by  means  of  the  reasonable  feel- 
ing which  he  knew  to  be  exposed  to  his  deadly 
wiles.  And  this  also  the  same  spirit  expected 
in  the  case  of  our  Lord,  when  he  tempted 
Him  in  these  three  affections  of  the  soul, 
wherein  he  knew  that  all  mankind  had  been 
taken  captive,  but  gained  nothing  by  his  crafty 
wiles.      For  he  approached  that  portion  of  his 


1  Cf.  Numb.  xxiv.      2  i  Kings  xx.  31,  32,  42.      3  1  Kings  xxii.  22. 


mind  which  was  subject  to  desire,  when  he 
said:  "Command  that  these  stones  be  made 
bread;"  the  part  subject  to  wrath,  when  he 
tried  to  incite  Him  to  seek  the  power  of  the 
present  life  and  the  kingdoms  of  this  world; 
the  reasonable  part  when  he  said:  "If 
Thou  art  the  Son  of  God  cast  Thyself  down 
from  hence."4  And  in  these  his  deception 
availed  nothing  for  this  reason  because  he 
found  that  there  was  nothing  damaged  in 
Him,  in  accordance  with  the  supposition 
which  he  had  formed  from  a  false  idea. 
Wherefore  no  part  of  His  soul  yielded  when 
tempted  by  the  wiles  of  the  foe,  "For  lo,"  He 
saith,  "  the  prince  of  this  world  cometh  and 
shall  find  nothing:  in  Me."5 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

A  question  whether  we  should  be  drawn  back  to  our  country 
by  a  proper  desire  for  greater  silence. 

Germanus  :  Among  other  kinds  of  illusions 
and  mistakes  on  our  part,  which  by  the  vain 
promise  of  spiritual  advantages  have  fired  us 
with  a  longing  for  our  country  (as  your  holi- 
ness has  discovered  by  the  keen  insight  of 
your  mind),  this  stands  out  as  the  principal 
reason,  that  sometimes  we  are  beset  by  our 
brethren  and  cannot  possibly  continue  in  un- 
broken solitude  and  continual  silence,  as  we 
should  like.  And  by  this  the  course  and 
measure  of  our  daily  abstinence,  which  we 
always  want  to  maintain  undisturbed  for  the 
chastening  of  our  body,  is  sure  to  be  inter- 
fered with  on  the  arrival  of  some  of  the  breth- 
ren. And  this  we  certainly  feel  would  never 
happen  in  our  own  country,  where  it  is  im- 
possible to  find  anyone,  or  scarcely  anyone 
who  adopts  this  manner  of  life. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

The  answer  on  the  devil's  illusion,  because  he  promises  us  the 
peace  of  a  vaster  solitude. 

Abraham  :  Never  to  be  resorted  to  by  men 
at  all  is  a  sign  of  an  unreasonable  and  ill- 
considered  strictness,  or  rather  of  the  great- 
est coldness.  For  if  a  man  walks  in  this  way, 
on  which  he  has  entered,  with  too  slow  steps, 
and  lives  according  to  the  former  man,  it  is 
right  that  none  —  I  say  not  of  the  saints  —  but 
of  any  men  should  visit  him.  But  you,  if  you 
are  inflamed  with  true  and  perfect  love  of  our 
Lord,  and  follow  God,  who  indeed  is  love, 
with  entire  fervour  of   spirit,   are  sure  to  be 


4  S.  Matt.  iv.  3,  6. 


5  S.  John  xiv.  30. 


54Q 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


resorted  to  by  men,  to  whatever  inaccessible 
spot  you  may  flee,  and,  in  proportion  as  the 
ardour  of  divine  love  brings  you  nearer  to 
God,  so  will  a  larger  concourse  of  saintly 
brethren  flock  to  you.  For,  as  the  Lord  says, 
"A  city  set  on  an  hill  cannot  be  hid,"1  be- 
cause "them  that  love  Me,"  saith  the  Lord, 
"will  I  honour,  and  they  that  despise  Me 
shall  be  contemned.'12  But  you  ought  to 
know  that  this  is  the  subtlest  device  of  the 
devil,  this  is  his  best  concealed  pitfall,  into 
which  he  precipitates  some  wretched  and 
heedless  persons,  so  that,  while  he  is  pro- 
mising them  greater  things,  he  takes  away  the 
requisite  advantages  of  their  daily  profit,  by 
persuading  them  that  more  remote  and  vaster 
deserts  should  be  sought,  and  by  portraying 
them  in  their  heart  as  if  they  were  sown  with 
marvellous  delights.  And  further  some  un- 
known and  non-existent  spots,  he  feigns  to  be 
well-known  and  suitable  and  already  given 
over  to  our  power  and  able  to  be  secured 
without  any  difficulty.  The  men  also  of  that 
country  he  feigns  to  be  docile  and  followers 
of  the  way  of  salvation,  that,  while  he  is 
promising  richer  fruits  for  the  soul  there,  he 
may  craftily  destroy  our  present  profits.  For 
when  owing  to  this  vain  hope  each  one  sepa- 
rates himself  from  living  together  with  the 
Elders  and  has  been  deprived  of  all  those 
things  that  he  idly  imagined  in  his  heart,  he 
rises  as  it  were  from  a  most  profound  slumber, 
and  when  awake  will  find  nothing  of  those 
things  of  which  he  had  dreamed.  And  so  as 
he  is  hampered  by  larger  requirements  for 
this  life  and  inextricable  snares,  the  devil 
will  not  even  allow  him  to  aspire  to  those 
things  which  he  had  once  promised  himself, 
and  as  he  is  liable  no  longer  to  those  rare 
and  spiritual  visits  of  the  brethren  which  he 
had  formerly  avoided,  but  to  daily  interrup- 
tions from  worldly  folk,  he  will  never  suffer 
him  to  return  even  to  the  moderate  quiet  and 
svstem  of  the  anchorite's  life. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

How  useful  is  relaxation  on  the  arrival  of  brethren. 

That  most  refreshing  interlude  also  of  re- 
laxation and  courtesy,  which  sometimes  is 
wont  to  intervene  because  of  the  arrival  of 
brethren,  although  it  may  seem  to  us  tiresome 
and  what  we  ought  to  avoid,  yet  how  useful 
it  is  and  good  for  our  bodies  as  well  as  our 
souls  you  must  patiently  hear  in  few  words. 
It  often'  happens  I  say  not  to  novices  and 
weak  persons  but  even  to  those  of  the  greatest 


Cf.  S.  Matt.  v.  14. 


1  Sam.  ii.  30. 


experience  and  perfection,  that  unless  the 
strain  and  tension  of  their  mind  is  lessened 
by  the  relaxation  of  some  changes,  they  fall 
either  into  coldness  of  spirit,  or  at  any  rate 
into  a  most  dangerous  state  of  bodily  health. 
And  therefore  when  there  occur  even  frequent 
visits  from  the  brethren  they  should  not  only 
be  patiently  put  up  with,  but  even  gratefully 
welcomed  by  those  who  are  wise  and  perfect; 
first  because  they  stimulate  us  always  to  de- 
sire with  greater  eagerness  the  retirement  of 
the  desert  (for  somehow  while  they  are  thought 
to  impede  our  progress,  they  really  maintain 
it  unwearied  and  unbroken,  and  if  it  was  never 
hindered  by  any  obstacles,  it  would  not  endure 
to  the  end  with  unswerving  perseverance), 
next  because  they  give  us  the  opportunity  of 
refreshing  the  body,  together  with  the  advan- 
tages of  kindness,  and  at  the  same  time  with 
a  most  delightful  relaxation  of  the  body  con- 
fer on  us  greater  advantage  than  those  which 
we  should  have  gained  by  the  Aveariness  which 
results  from  abstinence.  On  which  matter  I 
will  briefly  give  a  most  apt  illustration 
handed  down  in  an  old  story. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

How  the  Evangelist  John  is  said  to  have  shown  the  value  of 
relaxation. 

It  is  said  that  the  blessed  John,  while  he 
was  gently  stroking  a  partridge  with  his 
hands  suddenly  saw  a  philosopher  approaching 
him  in  the  garb  of  a  hunter,  who  was  aston- 
ished that  a  man  of  so  great  fame  and  reputa- 
tion should  demean  himself  to  such  paltry 
and  trivial  amusements,  and  said :  "  Can  you 
be  that  John,  whose  great  and  famous  reputa- 
tion attracted  me  also  with  the  greatest  desire 
for  your  acquaintance?  Why  then  do  you 
occupy  yourself  with  such  poor  amusements?" 
To  whom  the  blessed  John  :  "  What  is  it,"  said 
he,  "that  you  are  carrying  in  your  hand?" 
The  other  replied:  "a  bow."  "  And  why,"  said 
he,  "  do  you  not  always  carry  it  everywhere 
bent?"*  To  whom  the  other  replied:  "It 
would  not  do,  for  the  force  of  its  stiffness 
would  be  relaxed  by  its  being  continually 
bent,  and  it  would  be  lessened  and  destroyed, 
and  when  the  time  came  for  it  to  send  stouter 
arrows  after  some  beast,  its  stiffness  would  be 
lost  by  the  excessive  and  continuous  strain, 
and  it  would  be  impossible  for  the  more  power- 
ful bolts  to  be  shot."  "And,  my  lad,"  said 
the  blessed  John,  "do  not  let  this  slight  and 
short  relaxation  of  my  mind  disturb  you,  as 
unless  it  sometimes  relieved  and  relaxed  the 
rigour  of  its  purpose  by  some  recreation,  the 


CONFERENCE  OF  ABBOT  ABRAHAM. 


541 


spirit  would  lose  its  spring  owing  to  the  un- 
broken strain,  and  .would  be  unable  when 
need  required,  implicitly  to  follow  what  was 
right."1 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

A  question  how  we  ought  to  understand  what  the  gospel  says  : 
"  My  yoke  is  easy  and  My  burden  is  light." 

Germanus  :  As  you  have  given  us  a  remedy 
for  all  delusions,  and  by  God's  grace  all  the 
wiles  of  the  devil  by  which  we  were  harassed, 
have  been  exposed  by  your  teaching,  we  beg 
that  you  will  also  explain  to  us  this  that  is 
said  in  the  gospel :  "  My  yoke  is  easy,  and  My 
burden  is  light."  2  For  it  seems  tolerably  op- 
posed to  that  saying  of  the  prophet  where  it  is 
said:  "For  the  sake  of  the  words  of  Thy  lips 
I  kept  hard  ways;"  while  even  the  Apostle 
says  :  "  All  who  will  live  godly  in  Christ  suffer 
persecutions."3  But  whatever  is  hard  and 
fraught  with  persecutions  cannot  be  easy  and 
light. 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

The  answer  with  the  explanation  of  the  saying. 

Abraham  :  We  can  prove  by  the  easy  teach- 
ing of  our  own  experience  that  our  Lord  and 
Saviour's  saying  is  perfectly  true,  if  we  ap- 
proach the  way  of  perfection  properly  and  in 
accordance  with  Christ's  will,  and  mortifying 
all  our  desires,  and  cutting  off  injurious  lik- 
ings, not  only  allow  nothing  to  remain  with 
us  of  this  world's  goods  (whereby  our  adver- 
sary would  find  at  his  pleasure  opportunities 
of  destroying  and  damaging  us)  but  actually 
recognize  that  we  are  not  our  own  masters, 
and  truly  make  our  own  the  Apostle's  words: 
"I  live,  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me."4 
For  what  can  be  burdensome,  or  hard  to  one 
who  has  embraced  with  his  whole  heart  the 
yoke  of  Christ,  who  is  established  in  true  hu- 
mility and  ever  fixes  his  eye  on  the  Lord's 
sufferings  and  rejoices  in  all  the  wrongs  that 
are  offered  to  him,  saying:  "  For  which  cause  I 
please  myself  in  my  infirmities,  in  reproaches, 
in  necessities,  in  persecutions,  in  distresses, 
for  Christ:  for  when  I  am  weak,  then  am  I 
strong "  ? 5  By  what  loss  of  any  common 
thing,  I  ask,  will  he  be  injured,  who  boasts 
of  perfect  renunciation,  and  voluntarily  re- 
jects for  Christ's  sake  all  the  pomp  of  this 
world,  and  considers  all  and  every  of  its  de- 

1  The  story  is  quoted  by  S.  Francis  de  Sales,  The  Devout  Life, 
and  bv  Dean  Goulbourn,  Personal  Religion,  Part  III.  c.  x. 

2  S.  Matt.  xi.  30.  4  Gal.  ii.  20. 

3  Ps.  xvi.  (xvii.)  4;  2  Tim.  iii.  12.  °  2  Cor.  xii.  10. 


sires  as  dung,  so  that  he  may  gain  Christ,  and 
by  continual  meditation  on  this  command  of 
the  gospel,  scorns  and  gets  rid  of  agitation  at 
every  loss:  "For  what  shall  it  profit  a  man 
if  he  gain  the  whole  world,  but  lose  his  own 
soul  ?  Or  what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange 
for  his  soul?  "  G  For  the  loss  of  what  will  he 
be  vexed,  who  recognizes  that  everything  that 
can  be  taken  away  from  others  is  not  their 
own,  and  proclaims  with  unconquered  valour: 
"We  brought  nothing  into  this  world:  it  is 
certain  that  we  cannot  carry  anything  out  "  ? "' 
By  the  needs  of  what  want  will  his  courage  be 
overcome,  who  knows  how  to  do  without  "  scrip 
for  the  way,  money  for  the  purse,"8  and,  like 
the  Apostle,  glories  "  in  many  fasts,  in  hunger 
and  thirst,  in  cold  and  nakedness  "  ?  9  What 
effort,  or  what  hard  command  of  an  Elder  can 
disturb  the  peace  of  his  bosom,  who  has  no 
will  of  his  own,  and  not  only  patiently  but 
even  gratefully  accepts  what  is  commanded 
him,  and  after  the  example  of  our  Saviour, 
seeks  to  do  not  his  own  will,  but  the  Father's, 
as  He  says  Himself  to  His  Father:  "Never- 
theless not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt  "  ? 10  By 
what  wrongs  also,  by  what  persecution  will  he 
be  frightened,  nay,  what  punishment  can  fail 
to  be  delightful  to  him,  who  always  rejoices 
together  with  apostles  in  stripes,  and  longs  to 
be  counted  worthy  to  suffer  shame  for  the 
name  of  Christ? 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Why  the  Lord's  yoke  is  felt  grievous  and  His  burden  heavy. 

But  the  fact  that  to  us  on  the  contrary  the 
yoke  of  Christ  seems  neither  light  nor  easy, 
must  be  rightly  ascribed  to  our  perverseness, 
as  we  are  cast  down  by  unbelief  and  want  of 
faith,  and  fight  with  foolish  obstinacy  against 
His  command,  or  rather  advice,  who  says: 
"  If  thou  wilt  be  perfect,  go  sell  (or  get  rid  of) 
all  that  thou  hast,  and  come  follow  Me,"  u  for 
we  keep  the  substance  of  our  worldly  goods. 
And  as  the  devil  holds  our  soul  fast  in  the 
toils  of  these,  what  remains  but  that,  when  he 
wants  to  sever  us  from  spiritual  delights,  he 
should  vex  us  by  diminishing  these  and  de- 
priving us  of  them,  contriving  by  his  crafty 
wiles  that  when  the  sweetness  of  His  yoke 
and  lightness  of  His  burden  have  become 
grievous  to  us  through  the  evil  of  a  corrupt 
desire,  and  when  we  are  caught  in  the  chains 
of  that  very  property  and  substance,  which 
we  kept  for  our  comfort  and  solace,  he  may 


S.  Matt.  xvi.  26. 
1  Tim.  vi.  7. 


8  S.  Matt.  x.  9,  10. 

9  2  Cor.  xi.  27. 


10  S.  Matt.  xxvi.  39. 

11  S.  Matt.  xix.  21. 


542 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


always  torment  us  with  the  scourges  of  worldly 
cares,  extorting  from  us  ourselves  that  where- 
with we  are  tortured  ?  For  "  Each  one  is  bound 
by  the  cords  of  his  own  sins,"  and  hears  from 
the  prophet:  "Behold  all  you  that  kindle  a 
fire,  encompassed  with  flames,  walk  in  the 
light  of  your  lire,  and  in  the  flames  which  you 
have  kindled."  Since,  as  Solomon  is  witness, 
"  Each  man  shall  thereby  be  punished,  whereby 
he  has  sinned."1  For  the  very  pleasures 
which  we  enjoy  become  a  torment  to  us, 
and  the  delights  and  enjoyments  of  this  flesh, 
turn  like  executioners  upon  their  originator, 
because  one  who  is  supported  by  his  former 
wealth  and  property  is  sure  not  to  admit  perfect 
humility  of  heart,  not  entire  mortification  of 
dangerous  pleasures.  But  where  all  these  im- 
plements of  goodness  give  their  aid,  there  all 
the  trials  of  this  present  life,  and  whatever 
losses  the  enemy  can  contrive,  are  endured 
not  only  with  the  utmost  patience,  but  with 
real  pleasure,  and  again  when  they  are  wanting 
so  dangerous  a  pride  springs  up  that  we  are 
actually  wounded  by  the  deadly  strokes  of 
impatience  at  the  slightest  reproach,  and  it 
may  be  said  to  us  by  the  prophet  Jeremiah : 
"  And  now  what  hast  thou  to  do  in  the  way  of 
Egypt,  to  drink  the  troubled  water?  And  what 
hast  thou  to  do  with  the  way  of  the  Assyrians, 
to  drink  the  water  of  the  river?  Thy  own 
wickedness  shall  reprove  thee,  and  thy  apos- 
tasy shall  rebuke  thee.  Know  thou  and  see 
that  it  is  an  evil  and  a  bitter  thing  for  thee  to 
have  left  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  that  My  fear 
is  not  with  thee,  saith  the  Lord."2  How 
then  is  it  that  the  wondrous  sweetness  of  the 
Lord's  yoke  is  felt  to  be  bitter,  but  because  the 
bitterness  of  our  dislike  injures  it?  How  is 
it  that  the  exceeding  lightness  of  the  Divine 
burden  becomes  heavy,  but  because  in  our 
obstinate  presumption  we  despise  Him  by 
whom  it  was  borne,  especially  as  Scripture  it- 
self plainly  testifies  to  this  very  thing  saying: 
"  For  if  they  would  walk  in  right  paths,  they 
would  certainly  have  found  the  paths  of  right- 
eousness smooth  "  ?  3  It  is  plain,  I  say,  that  it 
is  we,  who  make  rough  with  the  nasty  and  hard 
stones  of  our  desires  the  right  and  smooth 
paths  of  the  Lord;  who  most  foolishly  forsake 
the  royal  road  made  stony  with  the  flints  of 
apostles  and  prophets,  and  trodden  down  by  the 
footsteps  of  all  the  saints  and  of  the  Lord  Him- 
self, and  seek  trackless  and  thorny  places,  and, 
blinded  by  the  allurements  of  present  delights, 
tear  our  way  with  torn  legs  and  our  wedding 
garment  rent,  through  dark  paths,  overrun  with 
the  briars  of  sins,  so  as  not  only  to  be  pierced 

Prov.  v.  22  ;  Isa.  1.  n  ;  Wisd.  xi.  17. 


by  the  sharp  thorns  of  the  brambles  but  actu- 
ally laid  low  by  the  bites  of  deadly  serpents 
and  scorpions  lurking  there.  For '"there  are 
thorns  and  thistles  in  wrong  ways,  but  he 
that  feareth  the  Lord  shall  keep  himself  from 
them."4  Of  such  also  the  Lord  says  else- 
where by  the  prophet :  "  My  people  have  for- 
gotten, sacrificing  in  vain,  and  stumbling  in 
their  ways,  in  ancient  paths,  to  walk  in  them 
in  a  way  not  trodden."5  For  according  to 
Solomon's  saying:  "The  ways  of  those  who 
do  not  work  are  strewn  with  thorns,  but  the 
ways  of  the  lusty  are  trodden  down."6  And 
thus  wandering  from  the  king's  highway,  they 
can  never  arrive  at  that  metropolis,  whither 
our  course  should  ever  be  directed  without 
swerving.  And  this  also  Ecclesiastes  has 
pretty  significantly  expressed  saying:  "The 
labour  of  fools  wearies  those  who  know  not 
how  to  go  to  the  city;"  viz.,  that  "heavenly 
Jerusalem,  which  is  the  mother  of  us  all."7 
But  whoever  truly  gives  up  this  world  and 
takes  upon  him  Christ's  yoke  and  learns  of 
Him,  and  is  trained  in  the  daily  practice  of 
suffering  wrong,  for  He  is  "meek  and  lowly 
of  heart,"8  will  ever  remain  undisturbed  by 
all  temptations,  and  "all  things  will  work 
together  for  good  to  him."9  For  as  the  pro- 
phet Obadiah  says  the  words  of  God  are 
"good  to  him  that  walketh  uprightly;"  and 
again :  "  For  the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  right, 
and  the  just  shall  walk  in  them;  but  the 
transgressors  shall  fall  in  them."10 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

Of  the  good  which  an  attack  of  temptation  brings  about. 

And  so  by  the  struggle  with  temptation 
the  kindly  grace  of  the  Saviour  bestows  on  us 
larger  rewards  of  praise  than  if  it  had  taken 
away  from  us  all  need  of  conflict.  For  it 
is  a  mark  of  a  loftier  and  grander  virtue  to 
remain  ever  unmoved  when  hemmed  in  by 
persecutions  and  trials,  and  to  stand  faithfully 
and  courageously  at  the  ramparts  of  God,  and 
in  the  attacks  of  men,  girt  as  it  were  with  the 
arms  of  unconquered  virtue,  to  triumph  glori- 
ously over  impatience  and  somehow  to  gain 
strength  out  of  weakness,  for  "  strength  is 
made  perfect  in  weakness."  "For  behold  I 
have  made  thee,"  saith  the  Lord,  "a  pillar  of 
iron  and  a  wall  of  brass,  over  all  the  land,  to 
the  kings  of  Judah,  and  the  princes  and  the 


-   Jer.  ii.  iS, 


3  Prov.  ii.  20. 


*  Prov.  xxii.  5. 

0  Jer.  xviii.  15. 

0  Prov.  xv.  19. 

'  Eccl.  x.  15  (LXX.);  Gal.  iv.  26. 


8  S.  Matt.  xi.  29. 

9  Rom.  viii.  28. 

10  Micah  ii.  7;   Hos.  xiv 


CONFERENCE   OF    ABBOT   ABRAHAM. 


543 


priests  thereof,  and  all  the  people  of  the 
land.  And  they  shall  fight  against  thee  and 
shall  not  prevail:  for  I  am  with  thee  to  deli- 
ver thee,  saith  the  Lord."  2  Therefore  accord- 
ing to  the  plain  teaching  of  the  Lord  the 
king's  highway  is  easy  and  smooth,  though  it 
may  be  felt  as  hard  and  rough :  for  those  who 
piously  and  faithfully  serve  Him,  when  they 
have  taken  upon  them  the  yoke  of  the  Lord, 
and  have  learnt  of  Him,  that  He  is  meek  and 
lowly  of  heart,  at  once  somehow  or  other  lay 
aside  the  burden  of  earthly  passions,  and  find 
no  labour  but  rest  for  their  souls,  by  the  gift 
of  the  Lord,  as  He  Himself  testifies  by  Jere- 
miah the  prophet,  saying:  "Stand  ye  on  the 
ways  and  see,  and  ask  for  the  old  paths,  which 
is  the  good  way,  and  walk  ye  in  it :  and  you 
shall  find  refreshment  for  your  souls."  For 
to  them  at  once  "the  crooked  shall  become 
straight  and  the  rough  ways  plain ;  "  and  they 
shall  "taste  and  see  that  the  Lord  is  gra- 
cious," 2  and  when  they  hear  Christ  proclaim- 
ing in  the  gospel :  "  Come  unto  Me  all  ye 
that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
refresh  you,"  they  will  lay  aside  the  burden 
of  their  sins,  and  realize  what  follows:  "For 
My  yoke  is  easy,  and  My  burden  is  light."3 
The  way  of  the  Lord  then  has  refreshment  if  it 
is  kept  to  according  to  His  law.  But  it  is  we 
who  by  troublesome  distractions  bring  sorrows 
and  troubles  upon  ourselves,  while  we  try 
even  with  the  utmost  exertion  and  difficulty 
to  follow  the  crooked  and  perverse  ways  of 
this  world.  But  when  in  this  way  we  have 
made  the  Lord's  yoke  heavy  and  hard  to  us, 
we  at  once  complain  in  a  blasphemous  spirit 
of  the  hardness  and  roughness  of  the  yoke 
itself  or  of  Christ  who  lays  it  upon  us,  in 
accordance  with  this  passage:  "The  folly  of 
man  corrupteth  his  ways,  but  he  blames  God 
in  his  heart;"4  and  as  Haggai  the  prophet 
says,  when  we  say  that  "  the  way  of  the  Lord 
is  not  right "  the  reply  is  aptly  made  to  us  by 
the  Lord:  "Is  not  My  way  right?  Are  not 
your  ways  rather  crooked  ?"  5  And  indeed  if 
you  will  compare  the  sweet  scented  flower  of 
virginity,  and  tender  purity  of  chastity  to  the 
foul  and  fetid  sloughs  of  lust,  the  calm  and 
security  of  monks  to  the  dangers  and  losses  in 
which  the  men  of  this  world  are  involved, 
the  peace  of  our  poverty  to  the  gnawing  vex- 
ations and  anxious  cares  of  riches,  in  which 
they  are  night  and  day  consumed  not  without 
the  utmost  peril  to  life,  then  you  will  prove 
that  the  yoke  of  Christ  is  most  easy  and  His 
burden  most  light. 


1  Jer.  i.  18,  19.  2  Jer.  vi. 

3  S.  Matt.  xi.  28-10. 
i  Prov.  xix.  3  (LXX.). 


Isa.  xl.  4  ;   Ps.  xxxiii.  (xxxiv.)  9. 
5  Ezek.  xviii.  25  (LXX.). 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

How  the  promise  of  an  hundredfold  in  this  life  is  made  to  those 
whose  renunciation  is  perfect. 

Further  also  that  recompense  of  reward, 
wherein  the  Lord  promises  an  hundredfold 
in  this  life  to  those  whose  renunciation  is 
perfect,  and  says:  "And  everyone  that  hath 
left  house  or  brethren  or  sisters  or  father  or 
mother  or  wife  or  children  or  lands  for  My 
name's  sake,  shall  receive  an  hundredfold  in 
the  present  time  and  shall  inherit  eternal 
life,"  6  is  rightly  and  truly  taken  in  the  same 
sense  without  any  disturbance  of  faith.  For 
many  taking  occasion  by  this  saying,  insist 
with  crass  intelligence  that  these  things  will 
be  given  carnally  in  the  millennium,  though 
they  must  certainly  admit  that  that  age, 
which  they  say  will  be  after  the  resurrection 
cannot  possibly  be  understood  as  present.  It 
is  then  more  credible  and  much  clearer  that 
one,  who  at  the  persuasion  of  Christ  has 
made  light  of  any  worldly  affections  or  goods, 
receives  from  the  brethren  and  partners  of  his 
life,  who  are  joined  to  him  by  a  spiritual  tie, 
even  in  this  life  a  love  which  is  an  hundred 
times  better:  since  it  is  certain  that  among 
parents  and  children  and  brothers,  wives  and 
relations,  where  either  the  tie  is  merely 
formed  by  intercourse,  or  the  bond  of  union 
by  the  claims  of  relationship,  the  love  is  tol- 
erably short  lived  and  easily  broken.  Finally 
even  good  and  duteous  children  when  they 
have  grown  up,  are  sometimes  shut  out  by 
their  parents  from  their  homes  and  property, 
and  sometimes  for  a  really  good  reason  the  tie 
of  matrimony  is  severed,  and  a  quarrelsome 
division  destroys  the  property  of  brothers. 
Monks  alone  maintain  a  lasting  union  in  in- 
timacy, and  possess  all  things  in  common, 
as  they  hold  that  everything  that  belongs  to 
their  brethren  is  their  own,  and  that  every- 
thing which  is  their  own  is  their  brethren's. 
If  then  the  grace  of  our  love  is  compared  to 
those  affections  where  the  bond  of  union  is  a 
carnal  love,  certainly  it  is  an  hundred  times 
sweeter  and  finer.  There  will  indeed  also  be 
gained  from  conjugal  continence  a  pleasure 
that  is  an  hundred  times  greater  than  that 
which  arises  from  the  union  of  the  sexes.  And 
instead  of  that  joy,  which  a  man  experiences 
from  the  possession  of  a  single  field  or  house, 
he  will  enjoy  a  delight  in  riches  a  hundred 
times  greater,  if  he  passes  over  to  the  adop- 
tion of  sons  of  God,  and  possesses  as  his  own 
all  things  which  belong  to  the  eternal  Father, 
and  asserts  in  heart  and  soul  after  the  fash- 


6  S.  Matt.  xix.  29. 


544 


CASSIAN'S    CONFERENCES. 


ion  of  that  true  Son:  "All  things  that  the 
Father  hath  are  mine;"1  and  if  no  longer 
tried  by  that  criminal  anxiety  in  distractions 
and  cares,  but  free  from  care  and  glad  at  heart, 
he  succeeds  everywhere  to  his  own,  hearing 
daily  the  announcement  made  to  him  by  the 
Apostle:  "For  all  things  are  yours,  whether 
the  world,  or  things  present,  or  things  to 
come;"  and  by  Solomon:  "The  faithful  man 
has  a  whole  world  of  riches."2  You  have 
then  that  recompense  of  an  hundredfold 
brought  out  by  the  greatness  of  the  value,  and 
the  difference  of  the  character  that  cannot  be 
estimated.  For  if  for  a  fixed  weight  of  brass 
or  iron  or  some  still  commoner  metal,  one  had 
given  in  exchange  the  same  weight  only  in 
gold,  he  would  appear  to  have  given  much 
more  than  an  hundredfold.  And  so  when  for 
the  scorn  of  delights  and  earthly  affections 
there  is  made  a  recompense  of  spiritual  joy 
and  the  gladness  of  a  most  precious  love,  even 
if  the  actual  amount  be  the  same,  yet  it  is  an 
hundred  times  better  and  grander.  And  to 
make  this  plainer  by  frequent  repetition :  I 
used  formerly  to  have  a  wife  in  the  lustful 
passion  of  desire :  I  now  have  one  in  honour- 
able sanctification  and  the  true  love  of  Christ. 
The  woman  is  but  one,  but  the  value  of  the 
love  has  increased  an  hundredfold.  But  if 
instead  of  distrusting  anger  and  wrath  you 
have  regard  to  constant  gentleness  and  pa- 
tience, instead  of  the  stress  of  anxiety  and 
trouble,  peace  and  freedom  from  care,  instead 
of  the  fruitless  and  criminal  vexation  of  this 
world  the  salutary  fruits  of  sorrow,  instead  of 
the  vanity  of  temporal  joy  the  richness  of 
spiritual  delights,  you  will  see  in  the  change 
of  these  feelings  a  recompense  of  an  hundred- 
fold. And  if  we  compare  with  the  short- 
lived and  fleeting  pleasure  of  each  sin  the 
benefits  of  the  opposite  virtues  the  increased 
delights  will  prove  that  these  are  an  hundred 
times  better.  For  in  counting  on  your  fingers 
you  transfer  the  number  of  an  hundred  from 
the  left  hand  to  the  right  and  though  you 
seem  to  keep  the  same  arrangement  of  the 
fingers  yet  there  is  a  great  increase  in  the 
amount  of  the  quantity.3  For  the  result  will 
be  that  we  who  seemed  to  bear  the  form  of 
the  goats  on  the  left  hand,  will  be  removed 
and  gain  the  reward  of  the  sheep  on  the  right 
hand.  Now  let  us  pass  on  to  consider  the 
nature  of  those  things  which  Christ  gives  back 
to  us  in  this  world  for  our  scorn  of  worldly 
advantages,    more    particularly    according    to 

1  S.  John  xvi.  15.  2  1  Cor.  iii.  22  ;   Prov.  xvii.  6  (LXX.). 

3  The  passage  alludes  to  the  practice  of  counting  on  the  fingers, 
in  which  all  the  tens  up  to  ninety  were  reckoned  on  the  fingers  of 
the  left  hand,  but  with  the  number  of  a  hundred  the  reckoning  be- 
gan with  the  same  arrangement  of  the  fingers,  on  the  right  hand. 
S.  Jerome  has  a  similar  allusion  to  the  practice  in  his  work  against 
Jovinian  I.  i.  and  compare  also  Juvenal  Satire.  X.  1.  247,  248. 


the  Gospel  of  Mark  who  says :   "  There  is  no 
man  who  hath  left  house  or  brethren  or  sisters 
or  mother  or  children  or  lands  for  My  sake 
and  the  gospel's  sake,  who  shall  not  receive 
an  hundred  times  as  much  now  in  this  time: 
houses  and  brethren  and  sisters  and  mothers 
and  children  and   lands,    with   persecutions, 
and  in  the  world  to  come  life  eternal."  4     For 
he  who  for  the  sake  of  Christ's  name  disre- 
gards the  love  of  a  single  father  or  mother  or 
child,    and  gives   himself  over  to  the  purest 
love  of  all  who  serve  Christ,  will  receive  an 
hundred    times   the   amount   of   brethren   and 
kinsfolk;     since    instead   of  but   one   he  will 
begin  to  have  so  many  fathers  and  brethren 
bound  to  him  by  a  still  more  fervent  and  ad- 
mirable affection.      He  also  will  be  enriched 
with  an    increased  possession  of  lands,   who 
has   given   up   a   single    house   for   the    love 
of  Christ,   and  possesses  countless  homes  in 
monasteries   as  his  own,  to  whatever  part  of 
the  world  he  may  retire,  as  to  his  own  house. 
For  how  can  he  fail  to  receive  an  hundred- 
fold, and,  if  it  is  not  wrong  to  add  somewhat 
to  our  Lord's  words,  more  than  an  hundred- 
fold, who  gives  up  the  faithless  and  compul- 
sory service  of  ten  or  twenty  slaves  and  relies 
on   the   spontaneous    attendance   of    so   many 
noble  and  free  born  men?     And  that  this  is 
so  you  could  prove  by  your  own  experience, 
as  since  you  have  each  left  but  one  father  and 
mother   and  home,   you   have  gained  without 
any  effort  or  care,  in  any  part  of  the  world  to 
which  you  have  come,    countless  fathers  and 
mothers  and  brethren,  as  well  as  houses  and 
lands  and  most  faithful  servants,  who  receive 
you   as  their  masters,    and  welcome,    and   re- 
spect,   and  take  care  of  you  with   the  utmost 
attention.       But,    I    say   that    deservedly  and 
confidently  will  the  saints  enjoy  this  service, 
if  they  have   first   submitted  themselves  and 
everything  they  have  by  a  voluntary  offering 
for  the  service  of  the  brethren.      For,  as  the 
Lord  says,  they  will  freely  receive  back  that 
which     they   themselves    have    bestowed    on 
others.      But  if   a  man  has  not   first   offered 
this   with   true    humility   to  his   companions, 
how  can  he  calmly  endure  to  have  it  offered  to 
him  by  others,  when  he  knows  that  he  is  bur- 
dened rather  than  helped   by  their   services, 
because  he  prefers  to  receive  attention  from 
the  brethren  rather  than  to  give  it  to  them? 
But  all  these  things  he  will  receive  not  with 
careless    slackness   and    a    lazy  delight,    but, 
in   accordance  with    the   Lord's  word,  "with 
persecutions,"  i.e.,  with  the  pressure  of  this 
world,  and  terrible  distress  from  his  passions, 
because,  as  the  wise  man  testifies:  "He  who 
is  easy  going  and  without  trouble  shall  come 


4  S.  Mark  x.  29,  30. 


CONFERENCE    OF    ABBOT   ABRAHAM. 


545 


to  want."  1  For  not  the  slothful,  or  the  care- 
less, or  the  delicate,  or  the  tender  take  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  by  force,  but  the  violent. 
Who  then  are  the  violent?  Surely  they  are 
those  who  show  a  splendid  violence  not  to 
others,  but  to  their  own  soul,  who  by  a  laud- 
able force  deprive  it  of  all  delights  in  things 
present,  and  are  declared  by  the  Lord's  mouth 
to  be  splendid  plunderers,  and  by  rapine  of 
this  kind,  violently  seize  upon  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  For,  as  the  Lord  says,  "  The 
kingdom  of  heaven  suffereth  violence  and  the 
violent  take  it  by  force." 2  Those  are  certainly 
worthy  of  praise  as  violent,  who  do  violence 
to  their  own  destruction,  for,  "A  man,"  as  it 
is  written,  "that  is  in  sorrow  laboureth  for 
himself  and  does  violence  to  his  own  destruc- 
tion." 3  For  our  destruction  is  delight  in  this 
present  life,  and  to  speak  more  definitely, 
the  performance  of  our  own  likes  and  desires, 
as,  if  a  man  withdraws  these  from  his  soul 
and  mortifies  them,  he  straightway  does  glori- 
ous and  valuable  violence  to  his  own  destruc- 
tion, provided  that  he  refuses  to  it  the  pleas- 
antest  of  its  wishes  which  the  Divine  word 
often  rebukes  by  the  prophet,  saying :  "  For 
in  the  days  of  your  fast  your  own  will  is 
found;"  and  again:  "If  thou  turn  away  thy 
foot  from  the  Sabbath,  to  do  thy  will  on  My 
holy  day,  and  glorify  him,  while  thou  dost 
not  thy  own  ways,  and  thy  own  will  is  not 
found,  to  speak  a  word."  And  the  great 
blessedness  that  is  promised  to  him  is  at  once 
added  by  the  prophet.  "Then,"  he  says, 
"shalt  thou  be  delighted  in  the  Lord,  and  I 
will  lift  thee  up  above  the  high  places  of  the 
earth,  and  will  feed  thee  with  the  inheritance 
of  Jacob  thy.  father.  For  the  mouth  of  the 
Lord  hath  spoken  it."4  And  therefore  our 
Lord  and  Saviour,  to  give  us  an  example  of 
giving  up  our  own  wills,  says  :  "  I  came  not  to 
do  My  own  will,  but  the  will  of  Him  that  sent 
Me ;  "  and  again  :  "  Not  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou 
wilt."5  And  this  good  quality  those  men  in 
particular  show  who  live  in  the  ccenobia  and 
are  governed  by  the  rule  of  the  Elders,  who 
do  nothing  of  their  own  choice,  but  their 
will  depends  upon  the  will  of  the  Abbot.  Fi- 
nally to  bring  this  discussion  to  a  close,  I  ask 
you,  do  not  those  who  faithfully  serve  Christ, 
most  clearly  receive  grace  an  hundredfold  in 
this,  while  for  His  name's  sake  they  are 
honoured  by  the  greatest  princes,  and  though 
they  do  not  look  for  the  praise  of  men,  yet 
become  venerated  in  the  trials  of  persecution 


i  Prov.  xiv.  23  (LXX.). 

2  S.  Matt.  xi.  12. 

s  Prov.  xiv.  26  (LXX.). 


4  Isa.  lviii.  3,  13,  14. 

5  S.  John  vi.  38;  S.  Matt.  xxvi.  39. 


whose  humble  condition  would  perhaps  have 
been  looked  down  upon  even  by  common  folk, 
either  because  of  their  obscure  birth,  or 
because  of  their  condition  as  slaves,  if  they 
had  continued  in  their  life  in  the  world? 
But  because  of  the  service  of  Christ  no  one 
will  venture  to  raise  a  calumny  against  their 
state  of  nobility,  or  to  fling  in  their  teeth  the 
obscurity  of  their  origin.  Nay  rather,  through 
the  very  opprobrium  of  a  humble  condition  by 
which  others  are  shamed  and  confounded,  the 
servants  of  Christ  are  more  splendidly  en- 
nobled, as  we  can  clearly  show  by  the  case  of 
Abbot  John  who  lives  in  the  desert  which 
borders  on  the  town  of  Lycus.  For  he  sprang 
from  obscure  parents,  but  owing  to  the  name 
of  Christ  has  become  so  well  known  to  almost 
all  mankind  that  the  very  lords  of  creation, 
who  hold  the  reins  of  this  world  and  of  em- 
pire, and  are  a  terror  to  all  powers  and  kings. 
venerate  him  as  their  lord,  and  from  distant 
countries  seek  his  advice,  and  entrust  to  his 
prayers  and  merits  the  crown  of  their  empire, 
and  the  state  of  safety,  and  the  fortunes  of 
war. 6 

In  such  terms  the  blessed  Abraham  dis- 
coursed on  the  origin  of  and  remedy  for  our 
illusion,  and  exposed  to  our  eyes  the  crafty 
thoughts  which  the  devil  had  originated  and 
suggested,  and  kindled  in  us  the  desire  of 
true  mortification,  wherewith  we  hope  that 
many  also  maybe  inflamed,  even  though  all 
these  things  have  been  written  in  a  somewhat 
simple  style.  For  though  the  dying  embers 
of  our  words  cover  up  the  glowing  thoughts 
of  the  greatest  fathers,  yet  we  hope  that  in  the 
case  of  very  many  who  try  to  remove  the  em- 
bers of  our  words  and  to  fan  into  a  flame  the 
hidden  thoughts,  their  coldness  will  be  turned 
into  heat.  But,  O  holy  brethren,  I  have  not 
indeed  been  so  puffed  up  by  the  spirit  of  pre- 
sumption as  to  give  forth  to  you  this  fire 
(which  the  Lord  came  to  send  upon  the  earth, 
and  which  He  eagerly  longs  to  kindle 7  )  in 
order  that  by  the  application  of  this  warmth  I 
might  set  on  fire  your  purpose  which  is  already 
at  a  white  heat,  but  in  order  that  your  au- 
thority with  your  children  might  be  greater, 
if  in  addition  the  precepts  of  the  greatest  and 
most  ancient  fathers  support  what  you  are 
teaching  not  by  the  dead  sound  of  words  but 
by  your  living  example.  It  only  remains  that 
I  who  have  been  till  now  tossed  about  by  a 
most  dangerous  tempest,  should  be  wafted  to 
the  safe  harbour  of  silence  by  the  spiritual 
gales  of  your  prayers. 

6  Cf.  the  note  on  the  Institutes  IV.  xxiii.     J  Cf.  S.  Luke  xii.  49. 


THE  SEVEN  BOOKS  OF  JOHN  CASSIAN 

ON    THE 

NCARNATION  OF  THE  LORD,  AGAINST  NESTORIUS, 


PREFACE. 


When  I  had  now  finished  the  books  of  Spiritual  Conferences,  the  merit  of  which  consists 
in  the  thoughts  expressed  rather  than  in  the  language  used  (since  my  rude  utterances  were 
unequal  to  the  deep  thoughts  of  the  saints),  I  had  contemplated  and  almost  determined  on 
taking  refuge  in  silence  (as  I  was  ashamed  of  having  exposed  my  ignorance)  that  I  might  as 
far  as  possible  make  up  for  my  audacity  in  speaking  by  modestly  holding  my  tongue  for  the 
future.  But  you  have  overcome  my  determination  and  purpose  by  your  commendable  earnest- 
ness and  most  urgent  affection,  my  dear  Leo,  my  esteemed  and  highly  regarded  friend,  orna- 
ment that  you  are  of  the  Roman  Church  and  sacred  ministry,1  as  you  drag  me  forth  from  the 
obscurity  of  the  silence  on  which  I  had  determined,  into  a  public  court  which  I  may  well 
dread,  and  oblige  me  to  undertake  new  labours  while  I  am  still  blushing  for  my  past  ones. 
And  though  I  was  unequal  to  lesser  tasks,  you  compel  me  to  match  myself  with  greater  ones. 
For  even  in  those  trifling  works,  in  which  of  our  small  ability  we  offered  some  small  offering 
to  the  Lord,  I  would  never  have  attempted  to  do  or  apply  myself  to  anything  unless  I  had 
been  led  to  it  by  Episcopal  command.  And  so  through  you  there  has  been  an  increase  of 
importance  both  of  our  subject  and  of  our  language.  For  whereas  before  we  spoke,  when 
bidden,  of  the  business  of  the  Lord,  you  now  require  us  to  speak  of  the  actual  Incarnation 
and  glory  of  the  Lord  Himself.  And  so  we  who  were  formerly  brought  as  it  were  into  the 
holy  place  of  the  temple  by  priestly  hands,  now  penetrate  under  your  guidance  and  protection, 
so  to  speak,  into  the  holy  of  holies.  Great  is  the  honour  but  most  perilous  the  undertaking,2 
because  the  prize  of  the  holy  sanctuary  and  the  divine  reward  can  only  be  secured  by  a  vic- 
tory over  our  foe.  And  so  you  require  and  charge  us  to  raise  our  feeble  hands  against  a 
fresh  heresy  and  a  new  enemy  of  the  faith,3  and  that  we  should  take  our  stand,  so  to  speak, 
against  the  awful  open-mouthed  gapings  of  the  deadly  serpent,  that  at  my  summons  the 
power  of  prophecy  and  the  divine  force  of  the  gospel  word  may  destroy  the  dragon  now  rising 
up  with  sinuous  course  against  the  Churches  of  God.  I  obey  your  intreaty :  I  yield  to  your 
command  :  for  I  had  rather  trust  in  my  own  matters  to  you  than  to  myself,  especially  as  the 
love  of  Jesus  Christ  my  Lord  commands  me  this  as  well  as  you,  for  He  Himself  gives  me  this 
charge  in  your  person.  For  in  this  matter  you  are  more  concerned  than  I  am,  as  your  judg- 
ment stands  in  peril  rather  than  my  duty.  For  in  my  case,  whether  I  prove  equal  to  what 
you  have  commanded  me  or  no,  the  very  fact  of  my  obedience  and  humility  will  be  in  some 
degree  an  excuse  for  me ;  if  indeed  I  might  not  urge  that  there  is  more  value  in  my  obedi- 
ence, if  there  is  less  that  I  can  do.  For  we  easily  comply  with  any  one's  orders,  out  of  our 
abundance  :  but  his  is  a  great  and  wonderful  work,  whose  desires  exceed  his  powers.  Yours 
then  is  this  work  and  business,  and  yours  it  is  to  be  ashamed  of  it.  Pray  and  intreat  that 
your  choice  may  not  be  discredited  by  my  clumsiness  ;  and  that,  supposing  we  do  not  answer 
the  expectations  which  you  have  formed  of  us,  you  may  not  seem  to  have  been  wrong  in 
commanding  out  of  an  ill-considered  determination,  while  I  was  right  in  yielding,  owing  to 
the  claims  of  obedience. 

1  Mi  Leo,  veneranda  ac  siiscipienda  caritas  men,  Roinance  ecclesia  ac  divini  ministerii  decus  (Petschenig).  Gennadius  (De  Vir. 
Illust.  c.  lxi.)  tells  us  of  Cassian,  that  "  finally  at  the  request  of  Leo,  then  archdeacon  of  Rome  and  afterwards  Eishop,  he  wrote  seven 
books  against  Nestorius  on  the  Incarnation  of  the  Lord,  and  thus  brought  to  a  close  his  literary  labours  at  Marseilles,  as  well  as  his  life, 
in  the  reign  of  Theodosius  and  Valentinian.     The  date  of  the  work  must  have  been  a.d.  430,  shortly  before  the  Council  of  Ephesus. 

2  Professio  (Petschenig) :   Progressio  (Gazsus). 

3  Nestorius  had  been  consecrated  Bishop  of  Constantinople  in  a.d.  42S,  and  very  shortly  afterwards  joined  Anastasius  in  the  denial 
that  God  could  be  born  of  a  woman,  and  developed  the  heresy  associated  with  his  name. 


THE   SEVEN   BOOKS   OF   JOHN    CASSIAN 


INCARNATION    OF    THE    LORD,  AGAINST    NESTORIUS. 


BOOK   I. 


CHAPTER    I. 

The  heresy  compared  to  the  hydra  of  the  poets.  1 

The  tales  of  poets  tell  us  that  of  old  the 
hydra  when  its  heads  were  cut  off  gained  by 
its  injuries,  and  sprang  up  more  abundantly: 
so  that  owing  to  a  miracle  of  a  strange  and 
unheard-of  kind,  its  loss  proved  a  kind  of  gain 
to  the  monster  which  was  thus  increased 
by  death,  while  that  extraordinary  fecundity 
doubled  everything  which  the  knife  of  the 
executioner  cut  off,  until  the  man  who  was 
eagerly  seeking  its  destruction,  toiling  and 
sweating,  and  finding  his  efforts  so  often 
baffled  by  useless  labours,  added  to  the  cour- 
age of  battle  the  arts  of  craft,  and  by  the 
application  of  fire,  as  they  tell  us,  cut  off 
with  a  fiery  sword  the  manifold  offspring  of 
that  monstrous  body;  and  so  when  the  inward 
parts  were  thus  burnt,  by  cauterizing  the  re- 
bellious throbbings  of  that  ghastly  fecundity, 
at  length  those  prodigious  births  were  brought 
to  an  end.  Thus  also  heresies  in  the  churches 
bear  some  likeness  to  that  hydra  which  the 
poets'  imagination  invented;  for  they  too  hiss 
against  us  with  deadly  tongues ;  and  they  too 
cast  forth  their  deadly  poison,  and  spring  up 
again  when  their  heads  are  cut  off.  But  be- 
cause the  medicine  should  not  be  wanting 
when  the  disease  revives,  and  because  the 
remedy  should  be  the  more  speedy  as  the 
sickness  is  the  more  dangerous,  our  Lord 
God  is  able  to  bring  to  pass  that  that  may 
be  a  truth  in  the  church's  warfare,  which 
Gentile  fictions  imagined  of  the  death  of  the 
hydra,  and  that  the  fiery  sword  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  may  cauterize  the  inward  parts  of  that 


1  Petschenig's  text  gives  no  titles  to  the  chapters  in  this  work. 
They  are  added  here  from  the  text  of  Gazasus. 


most  dangerous  birth,  in  the  new  heresy  to 
be  put  down,  so  that  at  last  its  monstrous 
fecundity  may  cease  to  answer  to  its  dying 
throbs. 

CHAPTER    II. 

Description  of  the  different  heretical  monsters  which  spring 
from  one  another. 

For  these  shoots  of  an  unnatural  seed  are 
no  new  thing  in  the  churches.  The  harvest 
of  the  Lord's  field  has  always  had  to  put  up 
with  burrs  and  briars,  and  in  it  the  shoots  of 
choking  tares  have  constantly  sprung  up. 
For  hence  have  arisen  the  Ebionites,  Sabel- 
lians,  Arians,  as  well  as  Eunomians  and 
Macedonians,  and  Photinians  and  Apolli- 
narians,  and  all  the  other  tares  of  the  churches, 
and  thistles  which  destroy  the  fruits  of  good 
faith.  And  of  these  the  earliest  was  Ebion,2 
who  while  over-anxious  about  asserting  our 
Lord's  humanity3  robbed  it  of  its  union  with 
Divinity.  But  after  him  the  schism  of  Sabel- 
lius  burst  forth  out  of  reaction  against  the 
above  mentioned  heresy,  and  as  he  declared 
that  there  was  no  distinction  between  the 
Father,  Son  and  Holy  Ghost,  he  impiously 
confounded,  as  far  as  was  possible,  the  Per- 
sons, and  failed  to  distinguish  the  holy  and 
ineffable  Trinity.  Next  after  him  whom  we 
have  mentioned  there  followed  the  blasphemy 
of  Arian  perversity,  which,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  appearance  of  confounding  the  Sacred  Per- 
sons,  declared  that  there  were  different  and 

2  The  earliest  writer  to  allude  to  an  "  Ebion  "  as  the  supposed 
founder  of  the  Ebionites  is  Tertullian  (Pnescriptio  c.  xxxiii.).  He 
is  followed  in  this  by  Epiphanius  (I.  xxx.) ;  Rufinus  (In  Symb. 
Apost.  c.  xxxix.),  and  others;  but  the  existence  of  such  a  person  is 
more  than  doubtful,  and  the  name  is  now  generally  believed  to  have 
been  derived  from  the  Hebrew  "  Ebhion  "=poor. 

3  Incarnatio. 


5S1 


552 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


dissimilar  substances  in  the  Trinity.  But 
after  him  in  time  though  like  him  in  wicked- 
ness came  Eunomius,  who,  though  allowing 
that  the  Persons  of  the  Holy  Trinity  were  di- 
vine and  like x  each  other,  yet  insisted  that  they 
were  separate  from  each  other;  and  so  while 
admitting  their  likeness  denied  their  equality. 
Macedonius  also  blaspheming  against  the  Holy 
Ghost  with  unpardonable  wickedness,  while 
allowing  that  the  Father  and  the  Son  were 
of  one  substance,  termed  the  Holy  Ghost  a 
creature,  and  so  sinned  against  the  entire 
Divinity,  because  no  injury  can  be  offered  to 
anything  in  the  Trinity  without  affecting  the 
entire  Trinity.  But  Photinus,  though  allow- 
ing that  Jesus  who  was  born  of  the  Virgin  was 
God,  yet  erred  in  his  notion  that  His  Godhead 
began  with  the  beginning  of  His  manhood;2 
while  Apollinaris  through  inaccurately  con- 
ceiving the  union  of  God  and  man  wrongly 
believed  that  He  was  without  a  human  soul. 
P'or  it  is  as  bad  an  error  to  add  to  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  what  does  not  belong  to  Plim  as 
to  rob  Him  of  that  which  is  His.  For  where 
He  is  spoken  of  otherwise  than  as  He  is  — 
even  though  it  seems  to  add  to  His  glory —  yet 
it  is  an  offence.  And  so  one  after  another  out 
of  reaction  against  heresies  they  give  rise  to 
heresies,  and  all  teach  things  different  from 
each  other,  but  equally  opposed  to  the  faith. 
And  just  lately  also,  i.e.,  in  our  own  days,  we 
saw  a  most  poisonous  heresy  spring  up  from 
the  greatest  city  of  the  Belgae,3  and  though 
there  was  no  doubt  about  its  error,  yet  there 
was  a  doubt  about  its  name,  because  it  arose 


1  Cassian's  statement  here  is  scarcely  accurate,  as  Eunomius  is 
best  known  from  his  bold  assertion  that  the  Son  was  unlike 
(ai'dfioioi')  to  the  Father. 

2  Photinus,  the  pupil  of  Marcellus  of  Ancyra,  appears  to  have 
taught  a  form  of  Sabellianism,  teaching  that  Christ  Himself,  the 
Son  of  God,  had  not  existed  from  all  eternity  but  only  from  the 
time  when  He  became  the  Son  of  God  and  Christ ;  viz.,  at 
the  Incarnation. 

3  Et  maxima  Belgarum  urhe  (Petschenig).  Gazasus  edits: 
Et  maxima  Beiigarum  tirbe.  The  city  must  be  Treves,  and  the 
allusion  is  to  the  heresy  of  Leporius,  which  was  an  outcome  of 
Pelagianism.  Leporius  was  apparently  a  native  of  Treves,  who 
propagated  Pelagian  views  in  Gaul,  ascribing  his  virtues  to  his  own 
free  will  and  his  own  strength  ;  and  going  to  far  greater  lengths  than 
his  master  in  that  he  connected  this  doctrine  of  human  sufficiency 
with  heretical  views  on  the  Incarnation  ;  thus  combining  Pelagianism 
with  what  was  practically  Nestorianism,  teaching  that  Jesus  was  a 
mere  man  who  had  used  His  free  will  so  well  as  to  have  lived  with- 
out sin,  and  had  only  been  made  Christ  in  virtue  -of  His  Baptism, 
whereby  the  Divine  and  Human  were  associated  so  as  virtually  to 
make  two  Christs.  He  taught  further  that  the  only  object  of  His 
coming  into  the  world  was  to  exhibit  to  mankind  an  example  of 
virtue ;  and  that  if  they  chose  to  profit  by  it  they  also  might  be 
without  sin.  For  these  errors  he  was  rebuked  by  Cassian  and 
others  in  Gaul,  and  on  his  refusal  to  abandon  them  was  formally 
censured  by  Proculus  Bishop  of  Marseilles  and  Cylinnius  (Bishop 
of  Frejus?).  He  then  left  Gaul  and  came  to  Africa,  where  he 
was  convinced  by  Augustine  of  the  erroneous  character  of  his 
teaching,  and  under  his  influence  signed  a  recantation,  which  was 
perhaps  drawn  up  by  Augustine  himself,  and  from  which  Cassian 
quotes  below  (c.  v.).  This  recantation  was  read  in  the  Church  of 
Carthage,  and  subscribed  by  four  bishops  as  witnesses  (including 
Augustine).  It  was  then  sent  to  the  Gallican  Bishops  accompanied 
by  a  letter  from  the  four  attesting  bishops  (Epp.  August,  no.  ccxxix.) 
commending  the  treatment  which  Leporius  had  previously  received, 
but  recommending  him  once  more  to  their  favour  as  having  retracted 
his  errors.  See  further  Fleury  H.'  E.  Book  XXIV.  c.  xlix.  and 
Dictionary  of  Christian  Biography,  Art.  Leporius. 


with  a  fresh  head  from  the  old  stock  of  the 
Ebionites,  and  so  it  is  still  a  question  whether 
it  ought  to  be  called  old  or  new.  For  it  was 
new  as  far  as  its  upholders  were  concerned ;  but 
old  in  the  character  of  its  errors.  Indeed  it 
blasphemously  taught  that  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  was  born  as  a  mere  man,  and  main- 
tained that  the  fact  that  He  afterwards  obtained 
the  glory  and  power  of  the  Godhead  resulted 
from  His  human  worth  and  not  from  His 
Divine  nature;  and  by  this  it  taught  that  He 
had  not  always  His  Divinity  by  the  right  of 
Flis  very  own  Divine  nature  which  belonged 
to  Plim,  but  that  He  obtained  it  afterwards  as 
a  reward  for  His  labours  and  sufferings. 
Whereas  then  it  blasphemously  taught  that 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  was  not  God  at  His 
birth,  but  was  subsequently  taken  into  the 
Godhead,  it  was  indeed  bordering  on  this 
heresy  which  has  now  sprung  up,  and  is  as  it 
were  its  first  cousin  and  akin  to  it,  and,  har- 
monizing both  with  Ebionism  and  these  new 
ones,  came  in  point  of  time  between  them,  and 
was  linked  with  them  both  in  point  of  wicked- 
ness. And  although  there  are  some  others 
like  those  which  we  have  mentioned  yet  it 
would  take  too  long  to  describe  them  all. 
Nor  have  we  now  undertaken  to  enumerate 
those  that  are  dead  and  gone,  but  to  refute 
those  which  are  novel. 


CHAPTER    III. 

He  describes  the  pestilent  error  of  the  Pelagian. 

At  any  rate  we  think  that  this  fact  ought 
not  to  be  omitted,  which  was  special  and 
peculiar  to  that  heresy  mentioned  above 
which  sprang  from  the  error  of  Pelagius  ;  viz., 
that  in  saying  that  Jesus  Christ  had  lived  as 
a  mere  man  without  any  stain  of  sin,  they 
actually  went  so  far  as  to  declare  that  men 
could  also  be  without  sin  if  they  liked.  For 
they  imagined  that  it  followed  that  if  Jesus 
Christ  being  a  mere  man  was  without  sin,  all 
men  also  could  without  the  help  of  God  be 
whatever  Pie  as  a  mere  man  without  partici- 
pating in  the  Godhead,  could  be.  And  so 
they  made  out  that  there  was  no  difference 
between  any  man  and  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
as  any  man  could  by  effort  and  striving 
obtain  just  the  same  as  Christ  had  obtained 
by  His  earnestness  and  efforts.  Whence  it 
resulted  that  they  broke  out  into  a  more  griev- 
ous and  unnatural  madness,  and  said  that 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  had  come  into  this 
world  not  to  bring  redemption  to  mankind 
but  to  give  an  example  of  good  woiks,  to  wit, 
that  men,  by  following  His  teaching,  and  by 


BOOK    I. 


553 


walking  along  the  same  path  of  virtue,  might 
arrive  at  the  same  reward  of  virtue :  thus  de- 
stroying, as  far  as  they  could,  all  the  good  of 
His  sacred  advent  and  all  the  grace  of  Divine 
redemption,  as  they  declared  that  men  could 
by  their  own  lives  obtain  just  that  which 
God  had  wrought  by  dying  for  man's  salvation. 
They  added  as  well  that  our  Lord  and  Sav- 
iour became  the  Christ  after  His  Baptism, 
and  God  after  His  Resurrection,  tracing  the 
former  to  the  mystery  of  His  anointing,  the 
latter  to  the  merits  of  His  Passion.  Whence 
this  new  author  1  of  a  heresy  that  is  not  new, 
who  declares  that  our  Lord  and  Saviour  was 
born  a  mere  man,  observes  that  he  says  ex- 
actly the  same  thing  which  the  Pelagians  said 
before  him,  and  allows  that  it  follows  from 
his  error  that  as  he  asserts  that  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  lived  as  a  mere  man  entirely 
without  sin,  so  he  must  maintain  in  his  blas- 
phemy that  all  men  can  of  themselves  be 
without  sin,  nor  would  he  admit  that  our 
Lord's  redemption  was  a  thing  needful  for 
His  example,  since  men  can  (as  they  say) 
reach  the  heavenly  kingdom  by  their  own  ex- 
ertions. Nor  is  there  any  doubt  about  this, 
as  the  thing  itself  shows  us.  For  hence  it 
comes  that  he  encourages  the  complaints  of 
the  Pelagians  by  his  intervention,  and  intro- 
duces their  case  into  his  writings,  because  he 
cleverly  or  (to  speak  more  truly)  cunningly 
patronizes  them  and  by  his  wicked  liking  for 
them  recommends  their  mischievous  teaching 
which  is  akin  to  his  own,  for  he  is  well  aware 
that  he  is  of  the  same  opinion  and  of  the 
same  spirit,  and  therefore  is  distressed  that 
a  heresy  akin  to  his  own  has  been  cast  out  of 
the  church,  as  he  knows  that  it  is  entirely 
allied  to  his  own  in  wickedness. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Leporius  together  with  some  others  recants  his  Pelagianism. 

But  still  as  those  who  were  the  outcome  of 
this  stock  of  pestilent  thorns  have  already  by 
the  Divine  help  and  goodness  been  healed, 
we  should  also  now  pray  to  our  Lord  God 
that  as  in  some  points  that  older  heresy  and 
this  new  one  are  akin  to  each  other,  He 
would  grant  a  like  happy  ending  to  those 
which  had  a  like  bad  beginning.  For  Lepo- 
rius, then  a  monk,  now  a  presbyter,  who  fol- 
lowed the  teaching  or  rather  the  evil  deeds  of 
Pelagius,  as  we  said  above,  and  was  among 
the  earliest  and  greatest  champions  of  the 
aforesaid  heresy  in  Gaul,  was  admonished  by 

1  Nestorius. 


us  and  corrected  by  God,  and  so  nobly  con- 
demned his  former  erroneous  persuasion  that 
his  amendment  was  almost  as  much  a  matter 
for  congratulation  as  is  the  unimpaired  faith 
of  many.  For  it  is  the  best  thing  never  to 
fall  into  error:  the  second  best  thing  to  make 
a  good  repudiation  of  it.  He  then  coming  to 
himself  confessed  his  mistake  with  grief  but 
without  shame  not  only  in  Africa,  where  he 
was  then  and  is  now,2  but  also  gave  to  all  the 
cities  of  Gaul  penitent  letters  containing  his 
confession  and  grief;  in  order  that  his  return 
to  the  faith  might  be  made  known  where  his 
deviation  from  it  had  been  first  published, 
and  that  those  who  had  formerly  been  wit- 
nesses of  his  error  might  also  afterwards  be 
witnesses  of  his  amendment. 


CFIAPTER    V. 

By  the  case  of  Leporius  he  establishes  the  fact  that  an  open 
sin  ought  to  be  expiated  by  an  open  confession ;  and  also 
teaches  from  his  words  what  is  the  right  view  to  be  held  on 
the  Incarnation. 

And  from  his  confession  or  rather  lamenta- 
tion we  have  thought  it  well  to  quote  some 
part,  for  two  reasons :  that  their  recantation 
might  be  a  testimony  to  us,  and  an  example 
to  those  who  are  weak,  and  that  they  might 
not  be  ashamed  to  follow  in  their  amendment, 
the  men  whom  they  were  not  ashamed  to  fol- 
low in  their  error  ;  and  that  they  might  be 
cured  by  a  like  remedy  as  they  suffered  from 
a  like  disease.  He  then  acknowledging  the 
perverseness  of  his  views,  and  seeing  the 
light  of  faith,  wrote  to  the  Gallican  Bishops, 
and  thus  began : 3  "I  scarcely  know,  O  my 
most  venerable  lords  and  blessed  priests,  what 
first  to  accuse  myself  of,  and  what  first  to  ex- 
cuse myself  for.  Clumsiness  and  pride  and 
foolish  ignorance  together  with  wrong  notions, 
zeal  combined  with  indiscretion,  and  (to  speak 
truly)  a  weak  faith  which  was  gradually  failing, 
all  these  were  admitted  by  me  and  flourished 
to  such  an  extent  that  I  am  ashamed  of  hav- 
ing yielded  to   such  and  so  many  sins,  while 

2  The  after  history  of  Leporius  appears  to  have  been  this. 
Having  come  under  Augustine's  influence,  he  was  persuaded  by  him 
to  give  up  all  his  property,  and  renounce  the  temporal  care  of  a 
monastery  which  he  had  previously  founded  in  a  garden  at  Hippo  : 
where  also  he  had  begun  to  build  a  xeuodochium  or  house  of  refuge 
for  strangers,  partly  at  his  own  expense,  and  partly  out  of  the  alms 
of  the  faithful.  He  also  at  Augustine's  suggestion,  built  a  church 
in  memory  of  the  "  eight  martyrs "  (see  Aug.  Serm.  356).  This 
complete  renunciation  of  the  world  must  have  taken  place  about  425  ; 
and  in  the  following  year  we  find  that  he  was  present  at  the  election 
of  Eraclius  to  succeed  Augustine  (Aug.  Ep.  213)  ;  but  subsequent 
to  this  nothing  is  known  of  his  history  except  that  he  was  still  living 
when  Cassian  wrote.  It  is  right  to  mention  that  doubts  have  been 
raised  by  Tillemont  whether  the  presbyter  of  Hippo  is  identical 
witli  the  quondam  heretic,  but  on  scarcely  sufficient  grounds. 

3  The  recantation  of  Leporius  may  be  found  in  the  Bibliotheca 
Maxima  Patrum.  vol.  vii.  p.  14;  Labbe,  Concilia,  ii.  p.  1678;  and 
Migne  Patrol.  Lat.  xxxi.  p.  122 1. 


554 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


at  the  same  time  I  am  profoundly  thankful  for 
having  been  able  to  cast  them  out  of  my  soul." 
And  after  a  little  he  adds :  "  If  then,  not 
understanding  this  power  of  God,  and  wise  in 
our  conceits  and  opinions,  from  fear  lest  God 
should  seem  to  act  a  part  that  was  beneath  Him, 
we  suppose  that  a  man  was  born  in  conjunction 
with  God,  in  such  a  way  that  we  ascribe  to 
God  alone  what  belongs  to  God  separately,  and 
attribute  to  man  alone  what  belongs  to  man 
separately,  we  clearly  add  a  fourth  Person  to 
the  Trinity  and  out  of  the  one  God  the  Son 
begin  to  make  not  one  but  two  Christs ;  from 
which  may  our  Lord  and  God  Jesus  Christ 
Himself  preserve  us.  Therefore  we  confess 
that  our  Lord  and  God  Jesus  Christ  the  only 
Son  of  God,  who  for  His  own  sake1  was  be- 
gotten of  the  Father  before  all  worlds,  when 
in  time  He  was  for  our  sakes x  ma*ie  man  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  and  the  ever-virgin  Mary, 
was  God  at  His  birth;  and  while  Ave  confess 
the  two  substances  of  the  flesh  and  the  Word,2 
we  always  acknowledge  with  pious  belief  and 
faith  one  and  the  same  Person  to  be  indivisi- 
bly  God  and  man ;  and  we  say  that  from  the 
time  when  Pie  took  upon  Him  flesh  all  that 
belonged  to  God  was  given  to  man,  as  all  that 
belonged  to  man  was  joined  to  God.3  And 
in  this  sense  '  the  Word  was  made  flesh :  ' 4  not 
that  He  began  by  any  conversion  or  change 
to  be  what  He  was  not,  but  that  by  the  Divine 
'economy  '  the  Word  of  the  Father  never  left 
the  Father,5  and  yet  vouchsafed  to  become 
truly  man,  and  the  Only  Begotten  was  incar- 
nate through  that  hidden  mystery  which  He 
alone  understands  (for  it  is  ours  to  believe: 
His  to  understand).  And  thus  God  '  the 
Word  '  Himself  receiving  everything  that  be- 
longs to  man,  is  made  man,  and  the  manhood6 
which  is  assumed,  receiving  everything  that 
belongs  to  God  cannot  but  be  God;  but 
whereas  He  is  said  to  be  incarnate  and  un- 
mixed,   we  must  not  hold  that  there   is    any 


1  Sibi     .     .  nobis. 

2  Caro  and  Ve rbum  when  used  in  this  way  stand  for  the  Hu- 
manity and  the  Divinity  of  Christ. 

3  The  meaning  of  course  is  not  that  the  manhood  was  endowed 
with  the  properties  of  Deity,  or  conversely  the  Deity  with  the  pro- 
perties of  Humanity,  but  simply  that  two  -whole  and  perfect  natures 
were  joined  together  in  the  one  Person. 

4  S.  John  i.  14. 

5  This  phrase  gives  some  countenance  to  the  idea  that  the  recan- 
tation was  actually  drawn  up  by  Augustine,  as  the  thought  which  it 
contains  is  a  favorite  one  with  him,  as  excluding  any  notion  that 
Christ  ever  for  one  moment  ceased  to  be  God.  See  Serm.  184. 
"  Intelligerent  .  .  .  Eum  ...  in  homine  ad  nos  venisse  et  a  Patre 
iron  recessisse."  1S6  "  manens  quod  erat."  Similar  language  is 
used  by  S.  Leo,  Serm.  iS.  c.  5.  In  Natio.  2.  c.  2.  and  S.  Thomas 
Aquinas  in  the  well-known  Sacramental  hymn  "  Verbum  supermini 
prodiens,  Nee  Patris  linquens  dexteram."  Cf.  Bright's  S.  Leo  on 
the  Incarnation,  p.  220. 

6  Homo  is  here  used  as  frequently  by  Augustine  and  other  early 
writers  for  "Manhood,"  and  not  an  "individual  man."  In  this 
way  it  was  freely  used  till  the  Nestorian  Controversy,  after  which 
it  went  out  of  favour  as  capable  of  a  Nestorian  interpretation,  and 
gave  place  to  "  humanitas  "  or  "  lrumana  natura,"  when  the  man- 
hood of  Christ  was  spoken  of.  See  the  Church  Quarterly  Review, 
vol.  xviii.  p.  10;  and  Bright's  S.  Leo  on  the  Incarnation,  p.  165. 


diminution  of  His  substance:  for  God  knows 
how  to  communicate  Himself  without  suffer- 
ing any  corruption,  and  yet  truly  to  commu- 
nicate Himself.  He  knows  how  to  receive 
into  Himself  without  Himself  being  increased 
thereby,  just  as  He  knows  how  to  impart 
Himself  in  such  a  way  as  Himself  to  suffer 
no  loss.  We  should  not  then  in  our  feeble 
minds  make  guesses,  in  accordance  with 
visible  proofs  and  experiments,  from  the 
case  of  creatures  which  are  equal,  and  which 
mutually  enter  into  each  other,  nor  think  that 
God  and  man  are  mixed  together,  and  that 
out  of  such  a  fusion  of  flesh  and  the  Word 
(i.e.,  the  Godhead  and  manhood)  some  sort 
of  body  is  produced.  God  forbid  that  we 
should  imagine  that  the  two  natures  being  in 
a  way  moulded  together  should  become  one 
substance.  For  a  mixture  of  this  sort  is  de- 
structive of  both  parts.  For  God,  who  con- 
tains and  is  not  Himself  contained,  who 
enters  into  things  and  is  not  Himself  entered 
into,  who  fills  things  and  is  not  Himself 
filled,  who  is  everywhere  at  once  in  His 
completeness  and  is  diffused  everywhere, 
communicates  Himself  graciously  to  human 
nature  by  the  infusion  of  His  power."  And 
after  a  little:  "Therefore  the  God-man,  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  is  truly  born  for  us 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  the  ever-virgin  Mary. 
And  so  in  the  two  natures  the  Word  and 
Flesh  become  one,  so  that  while  each  sub- 
stance continues  naturally  perfect  in  itself, 
what  is  Divine  imparteth  without  suffering 
any  loss,  to  the  humanity,  and  what  is  human 
participates  in  the  Divine;  nor  is  there  one 
person  God,  and  another  person  man,  but  the 
same  person  is  God  who  is  also  man :  and 
again  the  man  who  is  also  God  is  called  and 
indeed  is  Jesus  Christ  the  only  Son  of  God; 
and  so  we  must  always  take  care  and  believe 
so  as  not  to  deny  that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
the  Son  of  God,  Very  God  (whom  we  confess 
as  existing  ever  with  the  Father  and  equal 
to  the  Father  before  all  worlds)  became  from 
the  moment  when  He  took  flesh  the  God- 
man.  Nor  may  we  imagine  that  gradually 
as  time  went  on  He  became  God,  and  that 
He  was  in  one  condition  before  the  resurrec- 
tion and  in  another  after  it,  but  that  He 
was  always  of  the  same  fulness  and  power." 
And  again  a  little  later  on:  "But  because 
the  Word  of  God7  vouchsafed  to  come  down 
upon  manhood  by  assuming  manhood,  and 
manhood  was  taken  up  into  the  Word  by 
being  assumed  by  God,  God  the  Word  in 
His  completeness  became  complete  man. 
For  it  was  not  God  the  Father  who  was  made 
man,  nor  the  Holy  Ghost,   but  the  Only  Be- 


7   Verbum  Dei  (Petschenig)  Verbum  Deus  (Gaza;us). 


BOOK    II. 


555 


gotten  of  the  Father;  and  so  we  must  hold 
that  there  is  one  Person  of  the  Flesh  and  the 
Word :  so  as  faithfully  and  without  any  doubt 
to  believe  that  one  and  the  same  Son  of  God, 
who  can  never  be  divided,  existing  in  two 
natures 1  (who  was  also  spoken  of  as  a 
"giant"2)  in  the  days  of  His  Flesh  truly 
took  upon  Him  all  that  belongs  to  man,  and 
ever  truly  had  as  His  own  what  belongs  to 
God :  since  even  though 3  He  was  crucified 
in  weakness,  yet  He  liveth  by  the  power  of 
God." 


CHAPTER   VI. 


The  united  doctrine  of  the  Catholics  is  to  be  received  as  the 
orthodox  faith. 


This  confession  of  his  therefore,  which 
was  the  faith  of  all  Catholics  was  approved 
of  by  all  the  Bishops  of  Africa,4  whence  he 
wrote,  and  by  all  those  of  Gaul,  to  whom  he 
wrote.  Nor  has  there  ever  been  anyone  who 
quarrelled  with  this  faith,  without  being 
guilty  of  unbelief:  for  to  deny  what  is  right 
and  proved  is  to  confess  what  is  wrong. 
The  agreement  of  all  ought  then  to  be  in  it- 
self already  sufficient  to  confute  heresy:  for 
the  authority  of  all  shows  undoubted  truth, 
and  a  perfect  reason  results  where  no  one 
disputes  it:  so  that  if  a  man  endeavours  to 
hold   opinions   contrary  to  these,  we   should 


in  the  first  instance  rather  condemn  his  per- 
verseness  than  listen  to  his  assertions,  for  one 
who  impugns  the  judgment  of  all  announces 
beforehand  his  own  condemnation,  and  a 
man  who  disturbs  what  has  been  determined 
by  all,  is  not  even  given  a  hearing.  For 
when  the  truth  has  once  for  all  been  estab- 
lished by  all  men,  whatever  arises  contrary  to 
it  is  by  this  very  fact  to  be  recognized  at 
once  as  falsehood,  because  it  differs  from  the 
truth.  And  thus  it  is  agreed  that  this  alone 
is  sufficient  to  condemn  a  man;  viz.,  that  he 
differs  from  the  judgment  of  truth.  But 
still  as  an  explanation  of  a  system  does  no 
harm  to  the  system,  and  truth  always  shines 
brighter  when  thoroughly  ventilated,  and  as 
it  is  better  that  those  who  are  wrong  should 
be  set  right  by  discussion  rather  than  con- 
demned by  severe  censures,  we  should  cure, 
as  far  as  we  can  with  the  Divine  assistance, 
this  old  heresy  appearing  in  the  persons  cf 
new  heretics,  that  when  through  God's  mercy 
they  have  recovered  their  health,  their  cure 
may  bear  testimony  to  our  holy  faith  instead 
of  their  condemnation  proving  an  instance  of 
just  severity.  Only  may  the  Truth  indeed  be 
present  at  our  discussion  and  discourse  con- 
cerning it,  and  assist  our  human  weakness 
with  that  goodness  with  which  God  vouchsafed 
to  come  to  men,  as  for  this  purpose  above  all 
He  willed  to  be  born  on  earth  and  among 
men;  viz.,  that  there  might  be  no  more  room 
for  falsehood. 


BOOK   II. 


CHAPTER   I. 

How  the  errors  of  later  heretics  have  been  condemned  and 
refuted  in  the  persons  of  their  authors  and  originators. 

As  we  began  by  setting  down  in  the  first 
book  some  things  by  which  we  showed  that 
our  new  heretic  is  but  an  offshoot  from  ancient 
stocks  of  heresy,  the  due  condemnation  of  the 
earlier  heretics  ought  to  be  enough  to  secure  a 


1  Substantia?. 

2  The  allusion  is  to  Ps.  xviii.  (xix.)  5,  where  the  Latin  (Gallican 
Psalter)  has  "  Exultavit,  ut  gigas,  ad  currendam  viam."  The  mys- 
tical interpretation  which  takes  the  words  as  referring  to  Christ  is 
not  uncommon.  So  in  a  hymn  "  De  Adventu  Domini"  (Mone. 
Vol.  i.  p.  43)  we  have  the  verse,  "  Procedit  a  thalamo  suo  Pudoris 
aula  regia  Gemina:  gigas  substantia:,  Alacris  ut  currat  viam,"  and 
in  another  "  De  natali  Domini"  (p.  5S)  "  Ut  gigas  egreditur  ad 
currendam  viam." 

3  Etsi  (Petschenig)  Et  sic  (Gazasus). 

4  The  attesting  Bishops  who  subscribed  his  recantation  as  wit- 
nesses were  Aurelius  of  Carthage;  Augustine  of  Hippo  Regius; 
Florentius  of  the  other  Hippo ;  and  Secundinus  of  Megarmita. 


sentence  of  due  condemnation  for  him.  For 
as  he  has  the  same  roots  and  grows  up  out  of 
the  same  fallow  5  he  has  already  been  amply 
condemned  in  the  persons  of  his  predecessors, 
especially  as  those  who  went  wrong  immediately 
before  these  men  very  properly  condemned  the 
very  thing  which  these  men  are  now  assert- 
ing,6 so  that  the  examples  of  their  own  party 
ought  to  be  amply  sufficient  for  them  in  both 
directions;  viz.,  that  of  those  who  were  re- 
stored and  that  of  those  who  were  condemned. 
For  if  they  are  capable  of  amendment  they 
have  their  remedy  set  forth  in  the  correction  of 
their  own  party.  If  they  are  incapable  of  it 
they  receive  their  sentence  in  the  condemna- 


c  Scrobilms  (Petschenig) :   The  text  of  Gazasus  has  enorifats. 

G  The  allusion  is  to  the  recantation  of  Leporius  and  his  com- 
panions. They  were  the  immediate  predecessors  of  Nestorius,  and 
Cassian  means  to  say  that  their  recantation  of  their  error  ought  to 
have  been  an  example  for  Nestorius  to  follow. 


S6 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


tion  of  their  own  folk.  But  that  we  may  not 
be  thought  to  have  prejudged  the  case  against 
them  instead  of  fairly  judging  it,  we  will  pro- 
duce their  actual  pestilent  assertions,  or  rather 
I  should  say  their  blasphemous  folly:  taking 
"above  all  the  shield  of  faith,  and  the  sword 
of  the  Spirit  which  is  the  Word  of  God,"1 
that  when  the  head  of  the  old  serpent  rises 
once  more,  the  same  sword  of  the  Divine 
Word  which  formerly  severed  it  in  the  case  of 
those  ancient  dragons  may  even  now  cut  it 
off  in  the  persons  of  these  new  serpents.  For 
since  the  error  of  these  is  the  same  as  that  of 
those  former  ones,  the  decapitation  of  those 
ought  to  be  counted  as  the  decapitation  of 
these ;  and  as  the  serpents  revive  and  emit 
pestilent  blasts  against  the  Lord's  church, 
and  cause  some  to  fail  through  their  hissing, 
we  must  on  account  of  these  new  diseases  add 
a  fresh  remedy  to  those  older  cures,  so  that 
even  if  what  has  already  been  done  prove 
insufficient  to  heal  2  the  malady,  what  we  are 
now  doing  may  be  adequate  to  restore  those 
who  are  suffering;  from  it. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Proof  that  the  Virgin  Mother  of  God  was  not  only  Christotocos 
but  also  Theotocos,  and  that  Christ  is  truly  God. 

And  so  you  say,  O  heretic,  whoever  you 
may  be,  who  deny  that  God  was  born  of  the 
Virgin,  that  Mary  the  Mother  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  ought  not  to  be  called  Theotocos, 
i.e.,  Mother  of  God,  but  Christotocos,  i.e., 
only  the  Mother  of  Christ,  not  of  God.3  For 
no  one,  you  say,  brings  forth  what  is  anterior 
in  time.  And  of  this  utterly  foolish  argument 
whereby  you  think  that  the  birth  of  God  can 
be  understood  by  carnal  minds,  and  fancy 
that  the  mystery  of  His  Majesty  can  be  ac- 
counted for  by  human  reasoning,  we  will,  if 
God  permits,  say  something  later  on.4  In 
the  meanwhile  we  will  now  prove  by  Divine 
testimonies  that  Christ  is  God,  and  that  Mary 
is  the  Mother  of  God.      Hear  then  how  the 


1  Eph.  vi.  16-17. 

2  Curationem  (Petschenig)  :    Dainnationein  (Gazseus). 

3  The  Nestorian  controversy  was  originated  by  a  sermon  of 
Anastasius  a  follower  of  Theodore  of  Mopsuestia,  whom  Nestorius 
brought  witii  him  to  Constantinople  as  his  chaplain  on  his  appoint- 
ment as  Archbishop,  a.d.  428.  This  man,  preaching  in  the  presence 
of  the  archbishop,  said:  "Let  no  one  call  Mary  Theotocos;  for 
Mary  was  but  a  woman,  and  it  is  impossible  that  God  should  be 
born  of  a  woman."  In  the  controversy  which  was  immediately  ex- 
cited by  these  words  Nestorius  at  once  took  the  part  of  his  chaplain 
and  preached  a  course  of  sermons  in  maintenance  of  his  views ;  re- 
fusing to  the  Blessed  Virgin  the  title  of  Theotocos,  while  admitting 
that  she  might  be  termed  Christotocos.  See  Socrates  H  E.  Book 
VII.  c.  xxxh.  Evagrius  H.  E.  Book  I.  c.  ii.  and  Vincentius  Lirinensis 
Book  I.  c.  xvii.  The  sermons  are  still  partially  existing  in  the 
writings  of  Marius  Mercator :  and  in  the  second  of  them  the  title 
X0KTTOTOK05  is  admitted.  Cf.  Hefele's  Councils  Book  IX.  c.  i. 
(Vol.  iii.  Eng.  Transl.  p.  12  sq.~). 

i  The  subject  is  dealt  with  in  Book  IV.  c.  ii.  ;  VII.  c.  ii.  sq. 


angel  of  God  speaks  to  the  shepherds  of  the 
birth  of  God.  "There  is  born,"  he  says,  "to 
you  this  day  in  the  city  of  David  a  Saviour 
who  is  Christ  the  Lord."5  In  order  that  you 
may  not  take  Christ  for  a  mere  man,  he  adds 
the  name  of  Lord  and  Saviour,  on  purpose 
that  you  may  have  no  doubt  that  He  whom 
you  acknowledge  as  Saviour  is  God,  and  that 
(as  the  office  of  saving  belongs  only  to  Divine 
power)  you  may  not  question  that  He  is  of 
Divine  power,  in  whom  you  have  learnt  that 
the  power  to  save  resides.  But  perhaps  this 
is  not  enough  to  convince  your  unbelief,  as 
the  angel  of  the  Lord  termed  Him  Lord  and 
Saviour  rather  than  God  or  the  Son  of  God, 
as  you  certainly  most  wickedly  deny  Him  to 
be  God,  whom  you  acknowledge  to  be  Saviour. 
Hear  then  what  the  archangel  Gabriel  an- 
nounces to  the  Virgin  Mary.  "The  Holy 
Ghost,"  he  says,  "shall  come  upon  thee,  and 
the  power  of  the  Most  High  shall  overshadow 
thee:  therefore  also  that  holy  thing  which 
shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son 
of  God."6  Do  you  see  how,  when  he  is 
going  to  point  out  the  nativity  of  God,  he 
first  speaks  of  a  work  of  Divinity.  For 
"the  Holy  Ghost,"  he  says,  "shall  come  upon 
thee,  and  the  power  of  the  Most  High  shall 
overshadow  thee."  Admirably  did  the  angel 
speak,  and  explain  the  majesty  of  the  Divine 
work  by  the  Divine  character  of  his  words. 
For  the  Holy  Ghost  sanctified  the  Virgin's 
womb,  and  breathed  into  it  by  the  power  of 
His  Divinity,  and  thus  imparted  and  commu- 
nicated Himself  to  human  nature ;  and  made 
His  own  what  was  before  foreign  to  Him, 
taking  it  to  Himself  by  His  own  power  and 
majesty.7  And  lest  the  weakness  of  human 
nature  should  not  be  able  to  bear  the  entrance 
of  Divinity  the  power  of  the  Most  High 
strengthened  the  ever  to  be  honoured  Virgin, 
so  that  it  supported  her  bodily  weakness  by 
embracing  it  with  overshadowing  protection, 
and  human  weakness  was  not  insufficient  for 
the  consummation  of  the  ineffable  mystery  of 
the  holy  conception,  since  it  was  supported 
by  the  Divine  overshadowing.  "Therefore," 
he  says,  "the  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon 
thee,  and  the  power  of  the  Most  High  shall 
overshadow  thee."  If  only  a  mere  man  was 
to  be  born  of  a  pure  virgin  why  should  there 
be  such  careful  mention  of  the  Divine  Advent? 
Why  such  intervention  of  Divinity  itself? 
Certainly  if  only  a  man  was  to  be  born  from 
man,  and  flesh  from  flesh,  a  command  alone 
might  have  done  it,  or  the  Divine  will.  For 
if  the  will  of  God  alone,  and  His  command 


5  S.  Luke  ii.  ri.  c  S.  Luke  i.  35. 

7  On    the  conception  bv  the  Holy   Ghost   compare  Pearson  on 
the  Creed.     Article  III.  C.  ii. 


BOOK    II. 


557 


sufficed  to  fashion  the  heavens,  form  the 
earth,  create  the  sea,  thrones,  and  seats,  and 
angels,  and  archangels,  and  principalities, 
and  powers,  and  in  a  word  to  create  all  the 
armies  of  heaven,  and  those  countless  thou- 
sands of  thousands  of  the  Divine  hosts  ("  For 
He  spake  and  they  were  made,  He  com- 
manded and  they  were  created"1),  why  was 
it  that  that  was  insufficient  for  the  creation  of 
(according  to  you)  a  single  man,  Avhich  was 
sufficient  for  the  production  of  all  things 
divine,  and  that  the  power  and  majesty  of 
God  did  not  entrust  that  with  the  birth  of  a 
single  infant,  which  had  availed  to  fashion  all 
things  earthly  and  heavenly?  But  certainly 
the  reason  why  all  those  works  were  performed 
by  the  command  of  God,  but  the  nativity  was 
only  accomplished  by  His  coming  was  because 
God  could  not  be  conceived  by  man  unless  He 
allowed  it,  nor  be  born  unless  He  Himself 
entered  in ;  and  therefore  the  archangel 
pointed  out  that  the  sacred  majesty  would 
come  upon  the  Virgin,  I  mean  that  as  so  great 
an  event  could  not  be  brought  about  by  human 
appointment,  he  announced  that  there  would 
be  present  at  the  conception  the  glory  of  Him 
who  was  to  be  born.'2  And  so  the  Word,  the 
Son,  descended:  the  majesty  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  was  present:  the  power  of  the  Father 
was  overshadowing ;  that  in  the  mystery  of  the 
holy  conception  the  whole  Trinity  might  co- 
operate. "Therefore,"  he  says,  "also  that 
holy  thing  which  shall  be  born  of  thee  shall 
be  called  the  Son  of  God."  Admirably  does 
he  add  "Therefore,"  in  order  to  show  that 
this  would  thei-efore  follow  because  that  had 
gone  before ;  and  that  because  God  had  come 
upon  her  at  the  conception  tha-efore  God  would 
be  present  at  the  birth.  And  when  the  maiden 
understood  not,  he  gave  a  reason  for  this  great 
thing,  saying:  "Because  the  Holy  Spirit  shall 
come  upon  thee,  and  because  the  power  of  the 
Most  High  shall  overshadow  thee,  therefore 
also  that  holy  thing  which  shall  be  born  shall 
be  called  the  Son  of  God;"  that  is  to  say: 
That  thou  mayest  not  be  ignorant  of  the  pro- 
vision for  so  great  a  work,  and  the  mystery  of 
this  great  secret,  the  majesty  of  God  shall 
therefore  come  upon  thee  completely;  because 
the  Son  of  God  shall  be  born  of  thee.  What 
further  doubt  can  there  be  about  this?  or 
what  is  there  further  to  be  said?  He  said 
that  God  would  come  upon  her ;  that  the  Son 
of  God  would  be  born.  Ask  now,  if  you  like, 
how  the"  Son  of  God  can  help  being  God,  or 
how  she  who  brought  forth  God  can  fail  to  be 

1  Ps.  xxxii.  (xxxiii.)  q.  3   Isa.  vii.  14.       4  Incredule  (Petschenig).     Incredulce  (Gazaeus). 

2  Petschenig's  text  is  as  follows  :  Videlicet  ut,  quia  agi  tanta  j  5  Here  is  an  instance  of  language  which  the  mature  judgment  of 
res  per  humanum  offichon  non  valebat,  ipshis  ad  futtcram  diceret  ,  the  Church  has  rejected,  as  experience  showed  how  it  was  capable 
majestatem  in  conceptu,  qui  erat  futurus  in  partu  ;  while  Gazsus  of  being  pressed  into  the  service  of  heresy.  Homo  unitus  Deo,  in 
reads  deceret  for  diceret.  \  Cassian's  mouth  evidently  means  the  manhood  joined  to  the  God- 

I 


Theotocos,  i.e.,  the  Mother  of  God?  This 
alone  ought  to  be  enough  for  you;  aye  this 
ought  to  be  amply  sufficient  for  you. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Follows  up  the  same  argument  with  passages  from  the  Old 
Testament. 

But  as  there  is  an  abundant  supply  of  wit- 
nesses "to  the  holy  nativity;  viz.,  all  that  has 
been  on  this  account  written,  to  bear  witness 
to  it,  let  us  examine  in  some  slight  degree 
an  announcement  about  God  even  in  the  Old 
Testament,  that  you  may  know  that  the  fact 
that  the  birth  of  God  was  to  be  from  a  virgin 
was  not  only  then  announced  when  it  actually 
came  to  pass,  but  had  been  foretold  from  the 
very  beginning  of  the  world,  that,  as  the  event 
to  be  brought  about  was  ineffable,  incredulity 
of  the  fact  when  actually  present  might  be 
removed  by  its  having  been  previously  an- 
nounced while  still  future.  And  so  the 
prophet  Isaiah  says:  "Behold  a  virgin  shall 
conceive  and  bear  a  Son,  and  they  shall  call 
his  name  Emmanuel,  which  is  interpreted 
God  with  us."3  What  room  is  there  here  for 
doubt,  you  incredulous  person  ? 4  The  prophet 
said  that  a  virgin  should  conceive  :  a  virgin  has 
conceived :  that  a  Son  should  be  born :  a  Son 
has  been  born :  that  He  should  be  called  God  : 
He  is  called  God.  For  He  is  called  by  that 
name  as  being  of  that  nature.  Therefore  when 
the  Spirit  of  God  said  that  He  should  be  called 
God,  He  proved  that  He  is  without  the  Spirit 
of  God  who  makes  himself  a  stranger  to  all 
fellowship  with  the  Divine  title.  "Behold 
then,"  he  says,  "a  virgin  shall  conceive  and 
bear  a  Son,  and  they  shall  call  His  name 
Emmanuel,  which  is  interpreted  God  with 
us."  But  here  is  a  point  on  which  it  is  pos- 
sible that  your  shuffling  incredulity  may 
fasten;  viz.,  by  saying  that  this  which  the 
prophet  declared  He  should  be  called  referred 
not  to  the  glory  of  His  Divinity,  but  to  the 
name  by  which  He  should  be  addressed.  But 
what  are  we  to  do  because  Christ  is  never 
spoken  of  by  this  name  in  the  gospels, 
though  the  Spirit  of  God  cannot  be  said  to 
have  spoken  falsely  through  the  prophet? 
How  is  it  then?  Surely  that  we  should  un- 
derstand that  that  prophecy  then  foretold  the 
name  of  His  Divine  nature  and  not  of  His 
humanity.  For  since  in  His  manhood  united 
to  the  Godhead 5  He  received  another  name 


558 


THE   SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


in  the  gospel,  it  is  certainly  clear  that  this 
name  belonged  to  His  humanity,  that  to  His 
Divinity.  But  let  us  proceed  further  and 
summon  other  true  witnesses  to  establish  the 
truth :  For  where  we  are  speaking  about  the 
Godhead,  the  Divinity  cannot  be  better  es- 
tablished than  by  His  own  witnesses.  So 
then  the  same  prophet  says  elsewhere :  "  For 
unto  us  a  Son  is  born:  unto  us  a  child  is 
given;  and  the  government  slfall  be  upon  His 
shoulder;  and  His  name  shall  be  called  the 
angel  of  great  counsel,  God  the  miglity,  the 
Father  of  the  world  to  come,  the  Prince  of 
peace."1  Just  as  above  the  prophet  had  ex- 
pressly said  that  He  should  be  called  Em- 
manuel, so  here  he  says  that  He  should  be 
called  "the  angel  of  great  counsel,  and  God 
the  mighty,  and  the  Father  of  the  world  to 
come  arid  the  prince  of  peace  "  (although  we 
certainly  never  read  that  He  was  called  by 
these  names  in  the  gospel) :  of  course  that 
we  may  understand  that  these  are  not  terms 
belonging  to  His  human,  but  to  His  Divine 
nature ;  and  that  the  name  used  in  the  gospel 
belonged  to  the  manhood  which  He  took  upon 
Him,2  and  this  one  to  His  innate  power. 
And  because  God  was  to  be  born  in  human 
form,  these  names  were  so  distributed  in  the 
sacred  economy,  that  to  the  manhood  a  human 
name  was  given  and  to  the  Divinity  a  Divine 
one.  Therefore  he  says:  "He  shall  be  called 
the  angel  of  great  counsel,  God  the  mighty, 
the  Father  of  the  world  to  come,  the  prince 
of  peace."  Not,  O  heretic,  whoever  you  may 
be,  not  that  here  the  prophet,  full  as  he  was 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  followed  your  example 
and  compared  Him  who  was  born  to  a  molten 
image  and  a  figure  fashioned  without  sense.3 
For  "a  Son,"  he  says,  "is  born  to  us,  a  Child 
is  given  to  us;  and  the  government  shall  be 
upon  his  shoulder;  and  His  name  shall  be 
called  the  angel   of  great  counsel,    God  the 


head,  but  the  words  might  easily  be  taken  as  implying  that  a  man 
was  united  to  God,  i.e.,  that  there  were  in  the  Incarnation  two  per- 
sons, one  assuming  and  the  other  assumed,  which  was  the  essence 
of  Nestorianism.  Compare  above,  the  note  on  Homo  to  Book  I. 
c.  v. 

1  Isa.  ix.  6  where  in  the  LXX.  B  reads  on  irai&Cov  iyewr\9-q 
rilJ.h',  i/ios  Kai  eSoBrj  ri/Jt-lv,  ov  r)  apxv  eyei'7J#r)  C7ri  toii  ui/xou  avrov, 
Kai  KaAetTGit  to  ovofxa  avrov  MeydArj?  BovAtj?  ay-yeAo?  a£a>  -yap 
k.  t.  A.  To  this,  however,  N  and  A  add  after  dyyeAo;,  Bavnaa-Tos 
0"U|U/3ouAos  '  ©60?  (our  ©eb?  A)  icr^vpb;  e'fouo"iao"T))s  ap^wi'  ecprji'r/; 
7raT>)p  toO  jaeAAoi/To?  aiwi'os  and  hence  in  the  main  comes  the  old 
Latin  version,  which  Cassian  here  follows.  Jerome's  version  has 
Parvulus  enim  natus  est  nobis  et  filius  datus  est  nobis ;  et  factus  est 
principatus  super  humerum  ejus  :  et  vocabitur  nomen  ejus  admira- 
bilis  consiliarius  Deus  fortis  pater  futuri  saeculi  princeps  pacis.  The 
Hebrew  has  nothing  directly  corresponding  to  the  "  angel  of  great 
counsel,"  which  seems  to  be  intended  as  a  paraphrase  of  "  Wonder- 
ful Counsellor"  (Cf.  Judg.  xiii.  18),  while  "  Father  of  the  world  to 
come  "  is  an  interpretation  of  the  Hebrew  "  Father  of  eternity." 

2  Suscepti  hominis.  Cf.  the  line  in  the  Te  Deum,  which  origin- 
ally ran  "  Tu  ad  Iiberandum  mundum  suscepisti  hominem :  non 
horruisti  virginis  uterum." 

3  See  the  language  of  Nestorius  himself  quoted  below  in  Book 
VII.  c.  vi.  and  cf.  V.  iii. 


mighty."  And  that  you  may  not  imagine 
Him  whom  He  announced  as  God4  to  be 
other  than  Him  who  was  born  in  the  flesh,  he 
adds  a  term  referring  to  His  birth,  saying: 
"A  child  is  born  to  us:  a  son  is  given  to  us." 
Do  you  see  how  many  titles  the  prophet  used 
to  make  clear  the  reality  of  His  birth  in  the 
body?  for  he  called  Him  both  Son  and  child 
on  purpose  that  the  manner  of  the  child  which 
was  born  might  be  more  clearly  shown  by  a 
name  referring  to  His  infancy;  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  foreseeing  without  doubt  this  perversity 
of  blasphemous  heretics,  showed  to  the  whole 
world  that  it  was  God  who  was  born,  by  the 
very  terms  and  words  used ;  that  even  if  a 
heretic  was  determined  to  utter  blashemy,  he 
might  not  find  any  loophole  for  his  blasphemy. 
Therefore  he  says:  "A  Son  is  born  to  us;  a 
child  is  given  to  us;  and  the  government 
shall  be  upon  His  shoulder;  and  His  name 
shall  be  called  the  angel  of  great  counsel, 
God  the  mighty,  the  Father  of  the  world  to 
come,  the  prince  of  peace."  Fie  teaches  that 
this  child  which  was  born  is  both  prince  of 
peace  and  Father  of  the  world  to  come  and 
God  the  mighty.  What  room  is  there  then 
for  shuffling?  This  child  which  is  born  can- 
not be  severed  from  God  who  is  born  in  Him, 
for  he  called  Him,  whom  he  spoke  of  as  born, 
Father  of  the  world  to  come;  Him  whom  he 
called  a  child,  he  foretold  as  God  the  mighty. 
What  is  it,  O  heretic?  Whither  will  you  be- 
take yourself?  Every  place  is  hedged  and 
shut  in:  there  is  no  possibility  of  getting  out 
of  it.  There  is  nothing  for  it  but  that  you 
should  at  length  be  obliged  to  confess  the 
mistake  which  you  would  not  understand. 
But  not  content  with  these  passages  which 
are  indeed  enough  let  us  inquire  what  the 
Holy  Ghost  said  through  another  prophet. 
"Shall  a  man,"  says  he,  "pierce  his  God,  for 
you  are  piercing  me?"5  In  order  that  the 
subject  of  the  prophecy  might  be  still  clearer 
the  prophet  foretells  what  he  proclaimed  of 
the  Lord's  passion  as  if  from  the  mouth  of 
Him  of  whom  he  was  speaking.  "Shall  a 
man  pierce  his  God,  for  you  are  piercing 
me  ?  "  Does  not  our  Lord  God,  I  ask,  seem 
to .  have  said  this  when  He  was  led  to  the 
Cross?  Why  indeed  do  you  not  acknowledge 
Me  as  your  Redeemer?  Why  are  ye  ignorant 
of   God  clothed   in  flesh  for  you?     Are  you 


4  The  text  of  Gazaus  omits  Deus. 

5  Malachi  iii.  S.  Jerome's  rendering  is  almost  identical  "Si 
affiget  homo  Deum,  quia  vos  configitis  me;  "  where  the  Douay  ver- 
sion strangely  departs  from  the  literal  sense  of  the  word  and  renders 
vaguely  "  afflict."  It  is  clear  however  that  it  was  intended  to  be 
understood  literally,  as  it  is  here  taken  by  Cassian  as  a  direct 
prophecy  of  the  Crucifixion.  The  LXX.  has  Trrepvui.,  The  He- 
brew word,  which  is  only  found  again  in  Prov.  xxii.  23,  appears  to 
mean  "  defraud." 


BOOK    II. 


559 


preparing  death  for  your  Saviour?  Are  you 
leading  forth  to  death  the  Author  of  life?  I 
am  your  God  whom  ye  are  lifting  up:  your 
God  whom  ye  are  crucifying.  What  mistake, 
I  ask,  is  here  or  what  madness  is  it?  "Shall 
a  man  pierce  his  God,  for  you  are  piercing 
me?  "  Do  you  see  how  exactly  the  words  de- 
scribe what  was  actually  done?  Could  you 
ask  for  anything  more  express  or  clearer?  Do 
you  see  how  sacred  testimonies  follow  our  In- 
carnate Lord  Jesus  Christ  from  the  very  cradle 
to  the  Cross  which  He  bore,  as  here  you  can 
see  that  He  whom  elsewhere  you  read  of  as 
God  when  born  in  the  flesh  was  God  when 
pierced  on  the  cross?  And  so  there,  where 
His  birth  was  treated  of,  He  is  spoken  of  by 
the  prophet  as  God:  and  here  where  His  cru- 
cifixion is  concerned,  He  is  most  clearly 
named  God;  that  the  taking  upon  Him  of 
manhood  might  not  in  any  point  prejudice  the 
dignity  of  His  Divinity,  nor  the  humiliation 
of  His  body  and  the  shame  of  the  passion 
affect  the  glory  of  His  majesty;  for  His  con- 
descension to  so  lowly  a  birth  and  His  gener- 
ous goodness  in  enduring  his  passion  ought 
to  increase  our  love  and  devotion  to  Him; 
since  it  is  certainly  a  great  and  monstrous  sin 
if,  the  more  He  lavishes  love  upon  us,  the 
less  He  is  honoured  by  us.  - 


CHAPTER    IV. 

He   produces   testimonies   to    the   same    doctrine    from    the 
Apostle  Paul. 

But  passing  over  these  things  which  cannot 
possibly  be  unfolded  because,  there  would  be 
no  limit  to  the  telling  of  them,  as  the  blessings 
which  he  gives  are  without  stint,  it  is  time  for 
us  to  consult  the  Apostle  Paul,  the  stoutest 
and  clearest  witness  to  Him,  for  he  can  tell  us 
everything  about  God  in  the  most  trustworthy 
way  because  God  always  spoke  from  his 
breast.  He  then,  the  chosen  teacher  of  the 
nations,  who  was  sent  to  destroy  the  errors  of 
Gentile  superstition,  bears  his  witness  in  the 
following  way  to  the  grace  and  coming  of  our 
Lord  God:  "The  grace,"  he  says,  "of  God 
and  our  Saviour  appeared  unto  all  men,  in- 
structing us  that  denying  ungodliness  and 
worldly  desires  we  should  live  soberly  and 
justly  and  godly  in  this  world,  looking  for  the 
blessed  hope  and  coming  of  the  glory  of  the 
great  God  and  our  Saviour  jesus  Christ."  1  He 
says  that  "  there  appeared  the  grace  of  God  our 

1  Titus  ii.  11-13. 


Saviour."  Admirably  does  he  use  a  word 
suited  to  show  the  arrival  of  a  new  grace  and 
birth;  for  by  saying  "there  appeared,"  he  in- 
dicated the  approach  of  a  new  grace  and  birth, 
for  thenceforward  the  gift  of  a  new  grace 
began  to  appear,  from  the  moment  when  God 
appeared  as  born  in  the  world.  Thus  by  using 
the  right  word,  and  one  exactly  suitable,  he 
shows  the  light  of  this  new  grace  almost  as  if 
he  pointed  to  it  with  his  finger.  For  that  is 
most  properly  said  to  appear,  which  is  shown 
by  sudden  light  manifesting  it.  Just  as  we 
read  in  the  gospel  that  the  star  appeared  to 
the  wise  men  in  the  East : 2  and  in  Exodus : 
"There  appeared"  he  says,  "to  Moses  an 
angel  in  a  flame  of  fire  in  the  bush :  "  3  for  in 
all  these  and  in  the  case  of  other  visions  in 
the  Holy  Scripture,  Scripture  determined 
that  this  word  in  particular  should  be  used, 
that  it  might  speak  of  that  as  "appearing," 
which  shone  forth  with  unwonted  light.  So 
then  the  Apostle  also,  well  knowing  the 
coming  of  the  heavenly  grace,  which  appeared 
at  the  approach  of  the  holy  nativity,  indicated 
it  by  using  a  term  applied  to  a  bright  appear- 
ance ;  expressly  in  order  to  say  *that  it 
appeared,  as  it  shone  with  the  splendour  of 
a  new  light.  "There  appeared"  then  "the 
grace  of  God  our  Saviour. "  Surely  you  can- 
not raise  any  quibble  about  the  ambiguity  of 
the  names  in  this  place,  so  as  to  say  that 
"Christ"  is  one  and  "God"  another,  or  to 
divide  "the  Saviour"  from  the  glory  of  PI  is 
name,  and  separate  "  the  Lord "  from  the 
DiVinity?  Lo,  here  the  vessel 4  of  God  speaks 
from  God,  and  testifies  by  the  clearest  state- 
ment that  the  grace  of  God  appeared  from 
Mary.  And  in  order  that  you  may  not  deny 
that  God  appeared  from  Mary,  he  at  once 
adds  the  name  of  Saviour,  on  purpose  that 
you  may  believe  that  He  who  is  born  of  Mary 
is  God,  whom  you  cannot  deny  to  have  been 
born  a  Saviour,  in  accordance  with  this  pas- 
sage :  "  For  to  you  is  born  to-day  a  Saviour. '" 5 
O  excellent  teacher  of  the  Gentiles  truly 
given  by  God  to  them,  for  he  knew  that  this 
wild  heretical  folly  would  arise,  which  would 
turn  to  controversial  uses  the  names  of  God, 
and  would  not  hesitate  to  slander  God  from 
His  own  titles;  and  so  just  in  order  that  the 
heretic  might  not  separate  the  title  of  Saviour 
from  the  Divinity  he  put  first  the  name  of 
God,  that  the  name  of  God  standing  first 
might  claim  as  His  all  the  names  which  fol- 
lowed, and  that  no  one  might  imagine  that  in 
what  followed  Christ  was  spoken  of  as  a  mere 
man,   as  by  the  very  first  word  used  he  had 


2  S.  Matt.  ii.  2,  7. 

3  Exod.  iii.  2. 


4  Vas  ZV/(Petschenig) ;  Gazaeus  has  V. 

5  S.  Luke  ii.  11. 


Dei. 


560 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


taught  that  He  was  God.  "Looking,"  says 
the  same  Apostle,  "for  the  blessed  hope  and 
coming  of  the  glory  of  the  great  God  and  our 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ. "  Certainly  that  teacher 
of  divine  wisdom  saw  that  plain  and  simple 
teaching  would  not  in  itself  be  sufficient  to 
meet  the  crafty  wiles  of  the  devil's  cunning, 
unless  he  fortified  the  holy  preaching  of  the 
faith  with  a  protection  of  extreme  care.  And 
so  although  he  had  used  the  name  of  God 
the  Saviour  up  above,  he  here  adds  "Jesus 
Christ,"  in  case  you  might  think  that  the  mere 
name  of  Saviour  was  not  enough  to  indicate 
to  you  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  might  fail 
to  understand  that  the  God,  whom  you 
acknowledge  as  God  the  Saviour,  is  the  same 
Jesus  Christ.  What  then. does  he  say?  He 
says:  "Looking  for  the  blessed  hope  and 
coming  of  the  glory  of  the  great  God  and  our 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ."  Nothing  is  here 
wanting  as  regards  the  titles  of  our  Lord, 
and  you  see  here  God,  and  the  Saviour,  and 
Jesus,  and  Christ.  But  when  you  see  all 
these,  you  see  that  they  all  belong  to  God. 
For  you  have  heard  of  Him  as  God,  but  as 
Saviour  as  well.  You  have  heard  of  Him  as 
God,  but  as  Jesus  as  well.  You  have  heard  of 
Him  as  God,  but  as  Christ  as  well.  That 
which  the  Divinity  has  joined  and  united  to- 
gether cannot  be  separated  by  this  diversity  of 
titles ;  for  whichever  you  may  seek  for  of  them 
all,  you  will  find  it  there.  The  Saviour  is  God, 
Jesus  is  God,  Christ  is  God.  In  all  of  this 
which  you  hear,  though  the  titles  used  are 
many,  yet  they  belong  to  one  Person  in  power. 
For  whereas  the  Saviour  is  God,  and  Jesus  is 
God,  and  Christ  is  God,  it  is  easy  to  see  that 
all  these,  though  different  appellations,  are 
united  as  regards  the  Majesty.  And  when 
you  hear  quite  plainly  that  one  and  the  same 
Person  is  called  God  in  each  case,  you  can 
surely  clearly  see  that  in  all  these  cases  there 
is  but  one  God  spoken  of.  And  so*  you  can- 
not any  longer  seek  to  make  out  a  distinction 
of  power  from,  the  different  names  given  to 
the  Lord,  or  to  make  a  difference  of  Person 
owing  to  variety  of  titles.  You  cannot  say: 
Christ  was  born  of  Mary,  but  God  was  not; 
for  an  Apostle  declares  that  God  was.  You 
cannot  say  that  Jesus  was  born  of  Mary,  but 
God  was  not;  for  an  Apostle  testifies  that 
God  was.  You  cannot  say:  the  Saviour  was 
born,  but  God  was  not ;  for  an  Apostle  supports 
the  fact  that  God  was.  There  is  no  way  of 
escape  for  you.  Whichever  of  the  titles  of 
the  Lord  you  may  take,  He  is  God,  of  whom 
you  speak.  You  have  nothing  to  say:  no- 
thing to  assert:  nothing  to  invent  in  your 
wicked  falsehood.      You  can   in  impious  un- 


belief refuse  to  believe:  you  have  nothing  to 
deny  in  the  matter  of  your  blasphemy. 


CHAPTER    V. 

From   the  gifts  of   Divine  grace  which  we  receive   through 
Christ  he  infers  that  He  is  truly  God. 

Although  we  began  to  speak  some  time 
back  on  this  Divine  grace  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour,  I  want  to  say  somewhat  more  on  the 
same  subject  from  the  Holy  Scriptures.  We 
read  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles  that  the 
Apostle  James x  thus  refuted  those  who  thought 
that  when  they  received  the  gospel  they  ought 
still  to  bear  the  yoke  of  the  old  Law:  "Why," 
said  he,  "do  ye  tempt  God,  to  put  a  yoke 
upon  the  necks  of  the  disciples  which  neither 
our  fathers  nor  we  have  been  able  to  bear. 
But  by  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  we 
believe  to  be  saved  in  like  manner  as  they 
also."  2  The  Apostle  certainly  speaks  of  the 
gift  of  this  grace  as  given  by  Jesus  Christ. 
Answer  me  now,  if  you  please :  do  you  think 
that  this  grace  which  is  given  for  the  salvation 
of  all  men,  is  given  by  man  or  by  God?  If 
you  say,  By  man,  Paul,  God's  own  vessel, 
will  cry  out  against  you,  saying:  "There  ap- 
peared the  grace  of  God  our  Saviour."3  He 
teaches  that  this  grace  is  the  result  of  a 
Divine  gift,  and  not  of  human  Aveakness. 
And  even  if  the  sacred  testimony  was  not 
sufficient,  the  truth  of  the  matter  itself  would 
bear  its  witness,  because  fragile  earthly  things 
cannot  possibly  furnish  a  thing  of  lasting  and 
immortal  value;  nor  can  anyone  give  to 
another  that  in  which  he  himself  is  lacking, 
nor  supply  a  sufficiency  of  that,  from  the 
want  of  which  he  admits  that  he  himself  is 
suffering.  You  cannot  then  help  admitting 
that  the  grace  comes  from  God.  It  is  God 
then  who  has  given  it.  But  it  has  been  given 
by  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Therefore  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  is  God.  But  if  He  be,  as  He 
certainly  is,  God :  then  she  who  bore  God  is 
Theotocos,  i.e.,  the  mother  of  God.  Unless 
perhaps  you  want  to  take  refuge  in  so  utterly 
absurd  and  blasphemous  a  contradiction  as 
to  deny  that  she  from  whom  God  was  born  is 
the  mother  of  God,  while  you  cannot  deny 
that  He  who  was  born  is  God.  But,  however, 
let  us  see  what  the  gospel  of  God  thinks  about 
this  same  grace  of  our  Lord:  "Grace  and 
truth,"  it  says,  "came  by  Jesus  Christ."4     If 


1  Jacobum.  So  Pctschenk:,  after  his  authority.  It  is  however 
an  error  on  Cassian's  part,  as  the  words  quoted  were  spoken  not  by 
S.  James,  but  by  S.  Peter.  (The  text  of  Gazxus  reads  apparently 
with  no  authority  Petn/m.) 

2  Acts  xv.  10,  ii.     .         3  Titus  ii.  n.  4  S.  John  i.  17. 


BOOK    II. 


56i 


Christ  is  a  mere  man,  how  did  these  come  by 
Christ?  Whence  was  there  in  Him  Divine 
power  if,  as  you  say,  there  was  in  Him  only 
the  nature  of  man?  Whence  comes  heavenly 
largesse,  if  His  is  earthly  poverty?  For  no 
one  can  give  what  he  has  not  already.  As 
then  Christ  gave  Divine  grace,  He  already 
had  that  which  He  gave.  Nor  can  anyone 
endure  a  diversity  of  things  that  are  so  utterly 
different  from  each  other,  as  at  one  and  the 
same  time  to  suffer  the  wants  of  a  poor  man, 
and  also  to  show  the  munificence  of  a  bounte- 
ous one.  And  so  the  Apostle  Paul,  knowing 
that  all  the  treasures  of  heavenly  riches  are 
found  in  Christ,  rightly  writes  to  the  Churches : 
"The  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  be  with 
you."1  For  though  he  had  already  often 
enough  taught  that  God  is  the  same  as  Christ, 
and  that  all  the  glory  of  Deity  resides  in 
Him,  and  that  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead 
dwelleth  in  Him  bodily,  yet  here  he  is  cer- 
tainly right  in  praying  for  the  grace  of  Christ 
alone,  without  adding  the  word  God :  for 
while  he  had  often  taught  that  the  grace  of 
God  is  the  same  as  the  grace  of  Christ,  he 
now  most  perfectly  prays  only  for  the  grase  of 
Christ,  for  he  knows  that  in  the  grace  of 
Christ  is  contained  the  whole  grace  of  God. 
Therefore  he  says:  "The  grace  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  be  with  you."  If  Jesus  Christ 
was  a  mere  man,  then  in  his  wish  that  the 
grace  of  Christ  might  be  given  to  the  Churches 
he  was  wishing  that  the  grace  of  a  man  might 
be  given;  and  by  saying:  "The  grace  of 
Christ  be  with  you  "  he  meant :  the  grace  of  a 
man  be  with  you,  the  grace  of  flesh  be  with 
you,  the  grace  of  bodily  weakness,  the  grace 
of  human  frailty!  Or  why  did  he  ever  even 
mention  the  word  grace,  if  his  wish  was  for 
the  grace  of  a  man  ?  For  there  was  no  reason 
for  wishing,  if  that  was  not  in  existence  which 
was  wished  for;  nor  ought  he  to  have  prayed 
that  there  might  be  bestowed  on  them  the  grace 
of  one  who,  according  to  you,  did  not  possess 
the  reality  of  that  grace  for  which  he  was 
wishing.  And  so  you  see  that  it  is  utterly 
absurd  and  ridiculous — -or  rather  not  a  thing 
to  laugh  at  but  to  cry  over,  for  what  is  a  matter 
for  laughter  to  some  frivolous  persons  becomes 
a  matter  for  crying  to  pious  and  faithful  souls, 
for  they  shed  tears  of  charity  for  the  folly  of 
your  unbelief,  and  weep  pious  tears  at  the 
folly  of  another's  impiety.  Let  us  then  re- 
cover ourselves  for  a  while  and  take  our 
breath,  for  this  idea  is  not  only  without  wis- 
dom but  also  without  the  Spirit,  as  it  is  cer- 
tainly wanting  in  spiritual  wisdom  and  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  Spirit  of  salvation. 

1  1  Cor.  xvi.  23. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

That  the  power  of  bestowing  Divine  grace  did  not  come  to 
Christ  in  the  course  of  time,  but  was  innate  in  Him  from 
His  very  birth. 

But  perhaps  you  will  say  that  this  grace  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  of  which  the  Apostle 
writes,  was  not  born  with  Plim,  but  was  after- 
wards infused  into  Him  by  the  descent  of 
Divinity  upon  Him,  since  you  say  that  the 
man  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  (whom  you  call  a 
mere  man)  was  not  born  with  God,  but  after- 
wards was  assumed  by  God : 2  and  that  through 
this  grace  was  given  to  the  man  at  the  same 
time  that  Divinity  was  given  to  Him.  Nor 
do  we  say  anything  else  than  that  Divine 
grace  descended  with  the  Divinity,  for  the 
Divine  grace  of  God  is  in  a  way  a  bestowal 
of  actual  Divinity  and  a  gift  of  a  liberal 
supply  of  graces.  Perhaps  then  it  may  be 
thought  that  the  difference  between  us  is  one 
of  time  rather  than  of  what  is  essential,  since 
the  Divinity  which  we  say  was  born  with 
Jesus  Christ  you  say  was  afterwards  infused 
into  Him.  But  the  fact  is  that  if  you  deny 
that  Divinity  was  born  with  the  Lord  you  can- 
not afterwards  make  a  confession  according  to 
the  faith;  for  it  is  an  impossibility  for  one 
and  the  same  thing  to  be  partly  impious  and 
also  to  turn  out  partly  pious,  and  for  the  same 
thing  partly  to  belong  to  faith  and  partly  to 
misbelief.  To  begin  with  then  I  ask  you  this  : 
Do  you  say  that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who 
was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary  is  only  the  Son 
of  man,  or  that  He  is  the  Son  of  God  as  well? 
For  we,  I  mean  all  who  hold  the  Catholic 
faith,  all  of  us,  I  say,  believe  and  are  sure 
and  know  and  confess  that  He  is  both,  i.e., 
that  He  is  Son  of  man  because  born  of  a 
woman  and  Son  of  God  because  conceived  of 
Divinity.  Do  you  then  admit  that  He  is 
both,  i.e.,  Son  of  God  and  Son  of  man,  or  do 
you  say  that  He  is  Son  of  man  only?  If  Son 
of  man  only  then  there  cry  out  against  you 
apostles  and  prophets,  aye  and  the  Holy 
Ghost  Himself,  by  whom  the  conception  was 
brought  about.  That  most  shameless  mouth 
of  yours  is  stopped  by  all  the  witnesses  of  the 
Divine  decrees:  it  is  stopped  by  sacred  writ- 
ings and  holy  witnesses :  aye  and  it  is  stopped 
by  the  very  gospel  of  God  as  if  by  a  Divine 
hand.  And  that  mighty  Gabriel  who  in  the 
case  of  Zacharias  restrained  the  voice  of  un- 
belief by  the  power  of  his  word,  much  more 
strongly  condemned  in  your  case  the  voice  of 


2  Nestorius  maintained  that  "  that  which  was  formed  in  the 
womb  of  Mary  was  not  God  Himself  .  .  .  but  because  God  dwells 
in  him  whom  He  has  assumed,  therefore  also  He  who  is  assumed  is 
called  God  because  of  Him  who  assumes  Him.  And  it  is  not  God 
who  has  suffered,  but  God  was  united  with  the  crucified  flesh." 
(Frapm.  in  Marius  Mercator  p.  7S9  sg.  (ed.  Migne).)  Thus  he  made 
out  that  in  Christ  were  two  Persons,  one  assuming  and  the  other 
assumed. 


562 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


blasphemy  and  sin,  by  his  own  lips,  saying  to 
the  Virgin  Mary,  the  mother  of  God:  "The 
Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon  thee,  and  the 
power  of  the  Most  High  shall  overshadow 
thee:  therefore  also  that  holy  thing  which 
shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son 
of  God."1  Do  you  see  how  Jesus  Christ  is 
first  proclaimed  to  be  the  Son  of  God  that 
according  to  the  flesh  He  might  become  the 
Son  of  man  ?  For  when  the  Virgin  Mary  was 
to  bring  forth  the  Lord  she  conceived  owing  to 
the  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  her  and 
the  co-operation  of  the  power  of  the  Most  High. 
And  from  this  you  can  see  that  the  origin  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  must  come  from  thence, 
whence  His  conception  came:  and  since  He 
was  born  owing  to  the  descent  of  the  fulness 
of  Divinity  in  Its  completeness  upon  the 
Virgin,  He  could  not  be  the  Son  of  man  un- 
less He  had  first  been  the  Son  of  God;  and 
so  the  angel  when  sent  to  announce  His 
nativity  and  sacred  birth,  when  he  had  already 
spoken  of  the  mystery  of  His  conception 
added  a  word  expressive  of  His  birth,  saying: 
"Therefore  also  that  holy  thing  which  shall  be 
born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  God 
[i.e.,  He  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  Him  from 
whom  He  was  begotten].'2  Jesus  Christ  is 
therefore  the  Son  of  God,  because  He  was  be- 
gotten of  God  and  conceived  of  God.  But  if 
He  is  the  Son  of  God,  then  most  certainly  He 
is  God:  but  if  He  is  God,  then  He  is  not 
lacking  in  the  grace  of  God.  Nor  indeed  was 
He  ever  lacking  in  that  of  which  He  is  Him- 
self the  maker.  For  grace  and  truth  were 
made  by  Jesus  Christ. 

CHAPTER    VII. 

How  in  Christ  the  Divinity,  Majesty,  Might  and  Power  have 
existed  in  perfection  from  eternity,  and  will  continue. 

Therefore  all  grace,  power,  might,  Divin- 
ity, aye,  and  the  fulness  of  actual  Divinity  and 


glory  have  ever  existed  together  with  Him  and 
in  Him,  whether  in  heaven  or  in  earth  or  in 
the  womb  or  at  His  birth.  Nothing  that  is 
proper  to  God  was  ever  wanting  to  God.  For 
the  Godhead  was  ever  present  with  God,  no 
where  and  at  no  time  severed  from  Him.  For 
everywhere  God  is  present  in  His  complete- 
ness and  in  His  perfection.  He  suffers  no 
division  or  change  or  diminution;  for  nothing 
can  be  either  added  to  God  or  taken  away 
from  Him,  for  He  is  subject  to  no  diminution 
of  Divinity,  as  to  no  increase  of  It.  He  was 
the  same  Person  then  on  earth  who  was  also 
in  heaven:  the  same  Person  in  His  low  estate 
who  was  also  in  the  highest:  the  same  Person 
in  the  littleness  of  manhood  as  in  the  glory  of 
the  Godhead.  And  so  the  Apostle  was  right 
in  speaking  of  the  grace  of  Christ  when  He 
meant  the  grace  of  God.  For  Christ  was 
everything  that  God  is.  At  the  very  time  of 
His  conception  as  man  there  came  all  the 
power  of  God,  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead ; 
for  thence  came  all  the  perfection  of  the  God- 
head, whence  was  His  origin.  Nor  was  that 
Human  nature  of  His3  ever  without  the  Deity 
as  it  received  from  Deity  the  very  fact  of  its 
existence.  And  so,  to  begin  with,  whether 
you  like  it  or  no,  you  cannot  deny  this;  viz., 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God, 
especially  as  the  archangel  declares  in  the 
gospels:  "That  holy  thing  which  shall  be 
born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  God." 
But  when  this  is  established  then  remember 
that  whatever  you  read  of  Christ  you  read 
of  the  Son  of  God :  whatever  you  read  of  the 
Lord  or  Jesus  belongs  to  the  Son  of  God. 
And  so  when  you  recognize  a  title  of  Div- 
inity in  all  these  terms  which  you  hear 
uttered,  as  you  see  that  in  each  case  you 
ought  to  understand  that  the  Son  of  God 
is  meant,  prove  to  me,  if  you  like,  how  you 
can  separate  the  Godhead  from  the  Son  of 
God. 


BOOK    III. 


CHAPTER   I. 

That  Christ,  who  is  God  and  man  in  the  unity  of  Person, 
sprang  from  Israel  and  the  Virgin  Mary  according  to  the 
flesh. 

That  divine  teacher  of  the  Churches  when 
in  writing  to  the  Romans  he  was  reproving  or 

1  S.  Luke  i.  35. 

2  There  is  some  doubt  whether'  the  words  enclosed  in  brackets 
form  part  of  the  genuine  text.  Petschenig  brackets  them,  as  want- 
ing in  some  MSS. 


rather  lamenting  the  unbelief  of  the  Jews, 
i.e.,  of  his  own  brethren,  made  use  of  these 
words:  "I  wished  myself,"  said  he,  "to  be 
accursed  from  Christ,  for  my  brethren,  who 
are  my  kinsmen  according  to  the  flesh,  who 
are  Israelites,  to  whom  belongeth  the  adoption 
as  of  children,  and  the  glory,  and  the  testa- 
ments, and  the  giving  of  the  law,  and  the  ser- 


BOOK    III. 


563 


vice  of  God,  and  the  promises:  whose  are  the 
fathers,  of  whom  is  Christ  according  to  the 
flesh,  who  is  over  all  things,  God  blessed  for 
ever."1  O,  the  love  of  that  most  faithful 
Apostle,  and  most  kindly  kinsman!  who  in 
his  infinite  charity  wished  to  die  —  as  a  kins- 
man for  his  relations,  and  as  a  master  for  his 
disciples.  And  what  then  was  the  reason  why 
he  wished  to  die?  Only  one;  viz.,  that  they 
might  live.  But  in  what  did  their  life  con- 
sist? Simply  in  this,  as  he  himself  says, 
that  they  might  recognize  a  Divine  Christ 
born  according  to  the  flesh,  of  their  own  flesh. 
And  therefore  the  Apostle  grieved  the  more, 
because  those  who  ought  to  have  loved  Him 
the  more  as  sprung  from  their  own  stock, 
failed  to  understand  that  He  was  born  of 
Israel.  "Of  whom,"  said  he,  "is  Christ  ac- 
cording to  the  flesh,  who  is  over  all  things, 
God  blessed  for  ever."  Clearly  he  lays  down 
that  from  them  according  to  the  flesh,  was 
born  that  Christ  who  is  over  all,  God  blessed 
for  ever.  You  certainly  cannot  deny  that 
Christ  was  born  from  them  according  to  the 
flesh.  But  the  same  Berson,  who  was  born 
from  them,  is  God.  How  can  you  get  round 
this?  How  can  you  shuffle  out  of  it?  The 
Apostle  says  that  Christ  who  was  born  of 
Israel  according  to  the  flesh,  is  God.  Teach 
us,  if  you  can,  at  what  time  He  did  not  exist. 
"Of  whom,"  he  says,  "is  Christ  according  to 
the  flesh,  who  is  over  all,  God."  You  see  that 
because  the  Apostle  has  united  and  joined 
together  these,  "  God "  cannot  possibly  be 
separated  from  "Christ."  For  just  as  the 
Apostle  declares  that  Christ  is  of  them,  so 
he  asserts  that  God  is  in  Christ.  You  must 
either  deny  both  of  these  statements,  or  you 
must  accept  both.  Christ  is  said  to  be  born 
of  them  according  to  the  flesh :  but  the  same 
Berson  is  declared  by  the  Apostle  to  be  "  God 
in  Christ."  Whence  also  he  says  elsewhere: 
"For  God  was  i'n  Christ,  reconciling  the 
world  to  Himself."2  It  is  absolutely  impos- 
sible to  separate  one  from  the  other.  Either 
deny  that  Christ  sprang  from  them,  or  admit 
that  there  was  born  of  the  virgin  God  in 
Christ,  "who  is,"  as  he  says,  "over  all,  God 
blessed  for  ever." 


CHABTER   II. 

The    title   of    God   is   given    in   one  sense    to   Christ,  and  in 
another  to  men. 

The  name  of  God  would  for  the  faith- 
ful be  amply  sufficient  to  denote  the  glory  of 
His  Divinity,  but  by  adding  "over  all,  God 


2  2  Cor.  v.  19. 


blessed,"  he  excludes  a  blasphemous  and  per- 
verse interpretation  of  it,  for  fear  that  some 
evil-disposed  person  to  depreciate  His  abso- 
lute Divinity  might  quote  the  fact  that  the 
word  God«  is  sometimes  applied  by  grace  in 
the  Divine  economy  temporarily  to  men,  and 
thus  apply  it  to  God  by  unworthy  comparisons, 
as  where  God  says  to  Moses :  "  I  have  given 
thee  as  a  God  to  Bharaoh, "  3  or  in  this  pas- 
sage: "I  said  ye  are  Gods,"  4  where  it  clearly 
has  the  force  of  a  title  given  by  condescen- 
sion. For  as  it  says  "I  said,"  it  is  not  a 
name  showing  power,  so  much  as  a  title  given 
by  the  speaker.  But  that  passage  also,  where 
it  says:  "I  have  given  thee  as  a  God  to 
Bharaoh,"  shows  the  power  of  the  giver  rather 
than  the  Divinity  of  him  who  receives  the 
title.  For  when  it  says:  "I  have  given,"  it 
thereby  certainly  indicates  the  power  of  God, 
who  gave,  and  not  the  Divine  nature,  in  the 
person  of  the  recipient.  But  when  it  is  said 
of  our  God  and  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  "who  is 
over  all,  God  blessed  for  ever,"  the  fact  is 
at  once  proved  by  the  words,  and  the  mean- 
ing of  the  words  shown  by  the  name  given: 
because  in  the  case  of  the  Son  of  God  the 
name  of  God  does  not  denote  an  adoption 
by  favour,  but  what  is  truly  and  really  His 
nature. 

CHABTER    III. 

He  explains  the  apostle's  saying  :    "  If   from   henceforth  we 
know  no  man  according  to  the  flesh,"  etc. 

And  so  the  same  Apostle  says :  "  From 
henceforth  we  know  no  man  according  to  the 
flesh,  and  if  we  have  known  Christ  according 
to  the  flesh,  yet  now  we  know  Him  so  no 
longer."5  Admirably  consistent  are  all  the 
writings  of  the  sacred  word  with  each  other, 
and  in  every  portion  of  them :  even  where 
they  do  not  correspond  in  the  form  of  the 
words,  yet  they  agree  in  the  drift  and  sub- 
stance. As  where  he  says  :  "  And  if  we  have 
known  Christ  according  to  the  flesh,  yet  now 
we  know  Him  so  no  longer."  For  the  wit- 
ness of  the  passage  before  us  confirms  that 
quoted  above,  in  which  he  said:  "  Of  whom 
is  Christ  according  to  the  flesh,  who  is  over 
all,  God  blessed  for  ever."  For  there  he 
writes :  "  Of  whom  is  Christ  according  to  the 
flesh;"  and  here:  "  if  we  have  known  Christ 
according  to  the  flesh."  There:  "who  is 
over  all,  God  blessed  for  ever;''  and  here: 
"  yet  now  we  no  longer  know  Christ  accor- 
ding to  the  flesh."  The  look  of  the  words  is 
different,  but  their  force  and  drift  is  the 
same.      For  it  is  the  same  Berson  whom  he 


3  Exod. 


4  Ps.  lxxxi.  (lxxxii.)  6. 


564 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


there  declares  to  be  God  over  all  born  accord- 
ing to  the  flesh,  whom  he  here  asserts  that  he 
no  longer  knows  according  to  the  flesh.  And 
plainly  for  this  reason;  viz.,  because  Him 
whom  he  had  known  as  born  in  the  flesh,  he 
acknowledges  as  God  for  ever;  and  therefore 
says  that  he  knows  him  not  after  the  flesh, 
because  He  is  over  all,  God  blessed  for  ever; 
and  the  phrase  there:  "who  is  over  all  God," 
answers  to  this:  "we  no  longer  know  Christ 
according  to  the  flesh;  "  and  this  phrase:  "we 
no  longer  know  Christ  according  to  the  flesh" 
implies  this:  "who  is  God  blessed  for  ever."  x 
The  declaration  of  Apostolic  teaching  then 
somehow  rises,  as  it  were  to  greater  heights, 
and  though  it  is  self-consistent  throughout, 
yet  it  supports  the  mystery  of  the  perfect  faith, 
with  a  still  more  express  statement,  and  says : 
"And  though  we  have  known  Christ  accord- 
ing to  the  flesh,  yet  now  we  know  Him  so  no 
longer,"  i.e.,  as  formerly  we  knew  Him  as 
man  as  well  as  God,  yet  now  only  as  God. 
For  when  the  frailty  of  flesh  comes  to  an  end, 
we  no  longer  know  anything  in  Him  except 
the  power  of  Divinity,  for  all  that  is  in  Him 
is  the  power  of  Divine  Majesty,  where  the 
weakness  of  human  infirmity  has  ceased  to 
exist.  In  this  passage  then  he  has  tho- 
roughly expounded  the  whole  mystery  of  the 
Incarnation,  and  of  His  perfect  Divinity. 
For  where  he  says :  "  And  if  we  have  known 
Christ  according  to  the  flesh,"  he  speaks 
of  the  mystery  of  God  born  in  flesh.  But 
by  adding  "yet  now  we  know  Him  so  no 
longer,"  he  manifests  His  power  when  weak- 
ness is  laid  aside.  And  thus  that  knowledge 
of  the  flesh  has  to  do  with  His  humanity,  and 
that  ignorance,  with  the  glory  of  His  Divinity. 
For  to  say  "we  have  known  Christ  accord- 
ing to  the  flesh:"  means  "as  long  as  that 
which  was  known,  existed.  Now  we  no  longer 
know  it,  after  it  has  ceased  to  exist.  For 
the  nature  of  flesh  has  been  transformed  into 
a  spiritual  substance:  and  that  which  for- 
merly belonged  to  the  manhood,  has  all  become 
God's.  And  therefore  we  no  longer  know 
Christ  according  to  the  flesh,  because  when 
bodily  infirmity  has  been  absorbed  by  Divine 
Majesty,"2    nothing    remains    in    that    Sacred 

1  Petschenig's  text  reads  as  follows:  Ac  per  hoc  et  illud  tit; 
Qui  est  super  omnia  Deus,  hoc  die  it :  non  novimus,  jam  Christum 
secundum  carnem,  et  hie  :  non  novimus  jam  Christum  secundum 
carnem,  hoc  ait :  Qui  est  Deus  benedictus  in  siEcida.  That  of 
Gazaeus  has:  Ac  per  hoc  et  illud  ibi  qui  est  super  omnia  Deus:  et 
hoc  dicit,  non  novimus  jam  Christum  secundum  carnem  :  Quia  est 
Deus  benedictus  in  scecula. 

-  The  language  used  in  the  text  by  Cassian  is  scarcely  defensible. 
The  whole  tenour  of  the  treatise  shows  clearly  enough  that  his 
meaning  is  orthodox  enough,  and  that  he  fully  recognizes  that  the 
Human  nature  of  Christ  is  still  existing  (See  especially  c.  vi.)  : 
but  the  language  used  comes  perilously  near  to  Eutychianism,  and 
might  be  taken  to  imply  that  the  human  nature  had  been  absorbed 
in  the  Divine.  Again  in  Book  V.  c.  vii.  he  speaks  of  the  Son  of 
man  "  united  to  the  Son  of  God  "  (Cf.  also  c.  viii.)  language  which 
taken   by   itself    might   seem   to   sanction    Nestorianism,   the  very 


Body,  from  which  weakness  of  the  flesh  can 
be  known  in  it.  And  thus  whatever  had 
formerly  belonged  to  a  twofold  substance, 
has  become  attached  to  a  single  Power. 
Since  there  is  no  sort  of  doubt  that  Christ, 
who  was  crucified  through  human  weakness 
lives  entirely  through  the  glory  of  His 
Divinity. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

From  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians  he  brings  forward  a  passage 
to  show  that  the  weakness  of  the  flesh  in  Christ  was 
absorbed  by  His  Divinity. 

The  Apostle  indeed  declares  this  in  the 
whole  body  of  his  writings,  and  admirably 
says  in  writing  to  the  Galatians:  "Paul  an 
Apostle  not  of  men,  neither  by  man,  but  by 
Jesus  Christ  and  God  the  Father."3  You 
see  how  thoroughly  consistent  he  is  with  him- 
self in  the  former  and  the  present  passage. 
For  there  he  says  :  "  Now  we  no  longer  know 
Christ  according  to  the  flesh."  Here  he  says : 
"  Not  of  men,  neither  by  man,  but  by  Jesus 
Christ."  It  is  clear  that  his  doctrine  is  the 
same  here  as  in  the  former  passage.  For 
where  he  says  that  he  is  not  sent  by  man, 
he  implies:  "We  have  not  known  Christ  ac- 
cording to  the  flesh:"  and  so  I  am  "not  sent 
by  man  "  but  "by  Christ;  " 4  for  if  I  am  sent 
by  Christ,  I  am  not  sent  by  man  but  by  God. 
For  there  is  no  longer  room  for  the  name  of 
man,  in  Him  whom  Divinity  claims  entirely 
for  itself.  And  so  when  he  had  said  that  he 
was  sent  "not  of  men,  neither  by  man,  but 
by  Jesus  Christ,"  he  rightly  added:  "And 
God  the  Father,"  thus  showing  that  he  was 
sent  by  God  the  Father  and  God  the  Son ; 
in  whom  owing  to  the  mystery  of  the  sacred 
and  ineffable  generation  there  are  two  Persons 
(He  who  begets,  and  He  who  is  begotten), 
but  there  is  but  one  single  Power  of  God  who 
is  the  sender.  And  so  in  saying  that  he  was 
sent  by  God  the  Father  and  God  the  Son,  he 
shows  that  the  Persons  are  two  in  number, 
but  he  also  teaches  that  their  Power  is  One 
in  sending. 

CHAPTER   V. 

As  it  is  blasphemy  to  pare  away  the  Divinity  of  Christ,  so  also 
is  it  blasphemous  to  deny  that  He  is  true  man. 

But  he  says  "by  Jesus  Christ,  and  God  the 
Father,    who    raised    Him    from    the    dead." 

heresy  against  which  Cassian  himself  is  writing.  These  instances 
of  inaccurate  language,  which  a  later  writer  would  have  carefullv 
avoided,  serve  to  show  one  great  service  which  heresies  did  to  the 
Church  in  making  Churchmen  write  \oyLKiorepov.  Cf.  Dorner, 
Doctrine  of  the  Person  of  Christ,  Vol.  i.  p.  45S  (E.  T.). 

3  Gal.  i.  1.  i  Christian  (Petschenig) :  Jesum  (Gazaeus). 


BOOK    III. 


565 


That  renowned  and  admirable  teacher,  know- 
ing that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  must  be 
preached  as  true  man,  as  well  as  true  God, 
always  declares  the  glory  of  the  Divine  in 
Him,  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  lose  hold  of  the 
confession  of  the  Incarnation  :  plainly  exclud- 
ing the  phantasm  of  Marcion,  by  a  real  In- 
carnation, and  the  poverty  of  the  Ebionite, 
by  Divinity:  lest  through  one  or  other  of 
these  wicked  blasphemies  it  might  be  believed 
that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  either  alto- 
gether man  without  God,  or  God  without  man. 
Excellently  then  did  the  Apostle,  when  de- 
claring that  He  was  sent  by  God  the  Son  as 
well  as  by  God  the  Father,  add  at  once  a  con- 
fession of  the  Lord's  Incarnation,  by  saying: 
"Who  raised  Him  fromthe  dead:"  clearly 
teaching  that  it  was  a  real  body  of  the  Incar- 
nate God,  which  was  raised  from  the  dead :  in 
accordance  with  this:  "And  though  we  have 
known  Christ  according  to  the  flesh,"  excel- 
lently adding:  "Yet  now  we  know  Him  so  no 
longer."  For  he  says  that  he  knows  this  in 
Him  according  to  the  flesh;  viz.,  that  He  was 
raised  from  the  dead;  but  that  he  knows  Him 
no  longer  according  to  the  flesh  inasmuch  as 
when  the  weakness  of  the  flesh  is  at  an  end, 
he  knows  that  He  exists  in  the  Power  of  God 
only.  Surely  he  is  a  faithful  and  satisfactory 
witness  of  our  Lord's  Divinity  which  had  to 
be  proclaimed,  who  at  his  first  call  was  smit- 
ten from  heaven  itself,  and  did  not  merely 
believe  in  his  heart  the  glory  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  who  was  raised  from  the  dead, 
but  actually  established  its  truth  by  the 
evidence  of  his  bodily  eyes. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

He  shows  from  the  appearance  of  Christ  vouchsafed  to  the 
Apostle  when  persecuting  the  Church,  the  existence  of  both 
natures  in  Him. 

Wherefore  also,  when  arguing  before  King 
Agrippa  and  others  of  the  world's  judges,  he 
speaks  as  follows:  "When  I  was  going  to 
Damascus  with  authority  and  permission  of 
the  chief  priests,  at  midday,  O  king,  I  saw  in 
the  way  a  light  from  heaven  above  the  bright- 
ness of  the  sun,  shining  round  about  me  and 
all  those  that  were  with  me.  And  when  we 
were  all  fallen  down  to  the  ground,  I  heard  a 
voice  saying  unto  me  in  the  Hebrew  tongue, 
Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  Me?  It 
is  hard  for  thee  to  kick  against  the  goad. 
And  I  said,  Who  art  Thou,  Lord?  And  the 
Lord  said  to  me :  I  am  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
whom  thou  persecutest. "  1    You  see  how  truly 

1  Acts  xxvi.  12-15. 


the  Apostle  said  that  he  no  longer  knew  ac- 
cording to  the  flesh  one  whom  he  had  seen  in 
such  splendour  and  majesty.  For  when  as  he 
lay  prostrate  he  saw  the  splendour  of  that 
divine  light  which  he  was  unable  to  endure, 
there  followed  this  voice :  "  Saul,  Saul,  why 
persecutest  thou  Me  ?  "  And  when  he  asked 
who  it  might  be,  the  Lord  answers  and  clearly 
points  out  His  Personality:  "I  am  Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  whom  thou  persecutest."  Now 
then,  you  heretic,  I  ask  you,  I  summon  you. 
Do  you  believe  what  the  Apostle  says  of  him- 
self, or  do  you  not  believe  it?  Or  if  you 
think  that  unimportant,  do  you  believe  what 
the  Lord  says  of  Himself  or  do  you  not  be- 
lieve it?  If  you  do  believe  it,  there  is  an  end 
of  the  matter:  for  you  cannot  help  believing 
what  we  believe.  For  we,  like  the  Apostle, 
even  if  we  have  known  Christ  according  to 
the  flesh,  yet  know  Him  so  no  longer.  We 
do  not  heap  insults  on  Christ.  We  do  not 
separate  the  flesh  from  the  Divinity;  and  all 
that  is  in  Christ  we  believe  is  in  God.  If 
then  you  believe  the  same  that  we  believe  you 
must  acknowledge  the  same  mysteries  of  the 
faith.  But  if  you  differ  from  us,  if  you  refuse 
to  believe  the  Churches,  the  Apostle,  aye  and 
God's  own  testimony  about  Himself,  show  us 
in  this  vision  which  the  Apostle  saw,  how 
much  is  flesh,  and  how  much  God.  For  1 
cannot  here  separate  one  from  the  other.  I 
see  the  ineffable  light,  I  see  the  inexpressible 
splendour,  I  see  the  radiance  that  human 
weakness  cannot  endure,  and  beyond  what 
mortal  eyes  can  bear,  the  glory  of  God  shin- 
ing with  inconceivable  light.2  What  room  is 
there  here  for  division  and  separation?  In 
the  voice  we  hear  Jesus,  in  the  majesty  we  see 
God.  How  can  we  help  believing  that  in  one 
and  the  same  (Personal)  substance  God  and 
Jesus  exist.  But  I  should  like  to  have  a  few 
more  words  with  you  on  this  subject.  Tell 
me,  I  pray  you,  if  there  appeared  to  you  in 
your  present  persecution  of  the  Catholic  faith 
that  same  vision  which  then  appeared  to  the 
Apostle  in  his  ignorance,  if  when  you  were 
not  expecting  it  and  were  off  your  guard,  that 
radiance  shone  round  about  you,  and  the  glory 
of  that  boundless  light  smote  you  in  your 
terror  and  confusion,  and  you  lay  prostrate  in 
darkness  of  body  and  soul ;  which  the  un- 
limited and  indescribable  terror  of  your  heart 
increased,3  —  tell  me,  I  intreat  you;  When  the 
dread  of  immediate  death  was  pressing  on 
you,  and  the  terror  of  the  glory  that  threatened 
you  from  above,  weighed  you  down,  and  you 

2  Ineesthnabili  majestatem  Dei  luce  fulgentem  (Petschenig) : 
Gazaeus  edits  Ineestimabilem  majestatem.  Dei  luce  fulgentem. 

3  Quas  tibi  immensus  et  ineffabilis  pavor  men/is  aitgeret  (Pet- 
schenig) :  Gazaeus  has  Quas  tibi  immensus  et  ineffabiles  angustias 
pavor  mentis  augeret  ? 


566 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


heard  as  well  in  your  bewilderment  of  mind 
those  words  which  your  sin  so  well  deserves: 
"  Saul,  Saul,  why  persecutest  thou  Me  ?  "  and 
to  your  inquiry  who  it  was  the  answer  was 
given  from  heaven:  "I  am  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
whom  thou  persecutest,"  what  would  you  say? 
"I  do  not  know,  I  do  not  yet  fully  believe. 
I  want  to  think  over  it  with  myself  a  little 
longer,  who  I  think  that  Thou  art,  who  speak- 
est  from  heaven,  who  overwhelmest  me  with  the 
brightness  of  Thy  Divinity:  whose  voice  I 
hear  and  whose  splendour  I  cannot  bear.  I 
must  consider  of  this  matter,  whether  I  ought  to 
believe  Thee  or  not:  whether  Thou  art  Christ 
or  God.  If  Thou  art  God  alone  whether  it  is 
in  Christ.  If  Thou  art  Christ  alone,  whether 
it  is  in  God.  I  want  this  distinction  to  be 
carefully  observed,  and  thoroughly  considered, 
what  we  should  believe  that  Thou  art,  and 
what  we  should  judge  Thee  to  be.  For  I 
don't  want  any  of  my  offices  to  be  wasted.  As 
if  I  were  to  regard  Thee  as  a  man,  and  yet 
pay  to  Thee  some  Divine  honours."  If  then 
you  were  lying  on  the  ground,  as  the  Apostle 
Paul  was  then  lying,  and  overwhelmed  with 
the  brightness  of  the  Divine  light,  were  at 
your  last  gasp,  perhaps  you  would  say  this, 
and  prate  with  all  this  silly  chattering.  But 
what  shall  we  make  of  the  fact  that  another 
course  commended  itself  to  the  Apostle;  and 
when  he  had  fallen  down,  trembling  and  half 
dead,  he  did  not  think  that  he  ought  any 
longer  to  conceal  his  belief,  or  to  deliberate; 
it  was  enough  for  him  that  he  was  taught 
by  inexpressible  arguments  to  know  that  He 
whom  he  had  ignorantly  fancied  to  be  a  man, 
was  God.  He  did  not  conceal  his  belief,  he 
made  no  delay.  He  did  not  any  longer  pro- 
tract his  erroneous  ideas  by  deliberating  and 
disbelieving,  but  as  soon  as  he  heard  from 
heaven  the  name  of  Jesus  his  Lord,  he  replied 
in  a  voice,  subdued  like  that  of  a  servant, 
tremulous  like  that  of  one  scourged,  and  full 
of  fervour  like  that  of  one  converted,  "  What 
shall  I  do,  Lord?"  And  so  at  once  for  his 
ready  and  earnest  faith,  it  was  granted  to  him 
that  He  should  never  be  without  His  presence 
whom  he  had  faithfully  believed:  and  that 
He,  to  whom  he  had  passed  in  heart,  should 
Himself  pass  into  his  heart:  as  the  Apostle 
himself  says  of  himself :  "  Do  you  seek  a 
proof  of  Christ  that  speaketh  in  me  ?  " x 

CHAPTER   VII. 

He  shows  once  more  by  other  passages  of  the  Apostle  that 
Christ  is  God. 

I  want  you  to  tell  me,  you  heretic,  whether 
in  this  passage  He  who,  as  the  Apostle  tells 


1  2  Cor.  xiii.  3. 


us,  speaks  in  him,  is  man  or  God.  If  He  is 
man,  how  can  another's  body  speak  in  his 
heart?  If  God,  then  Christ  is  not  a  man  but 
God;  for  since  Christ  spoke  in  the  Apostle, 
and  only  God  could  speak  in  him,  therefore 
a  Divine  Christ  spoke  in  him.  And  so  you 
see  that  there  is 'nothing  to  be  said  here,  that 
no  division  or  separation  can  be  made  be- 
tween Christ  and  .God:  because  complete 
Divinity  was  in  Christ,  and  Christ  was  com- 
pletely in  God.  No  division  or  severing  of 
the  two  can  here  be  admitted.  There  is  only 
one  simple,  pious,  and  sound  confession  to  be 
made;  viz.,  to  adore,  love,  and  worship  Christ 
as  God.  But  do  you  want  to  understand  more 
fully  and  thoroughly  that  there  is  no  separa- 
tion to  be  made  between  God  and  Christ, 
and  that  we  must  hold  that  God  is  altogether 
one  with  Christ?  Hear  what  the  Apostle 
says  to  the  Corinthians:  "For  we  must  all 
be  manifested  before  the  judgment  seat  of 
Christ,  that  every  one  may  receive  the  proper 
things  of  the  body,  according  as  he  hath  done, 
whether  it  be  good  or  evil."  2  But  in  another 
passage,  in  writing  to  the  Romans  he  says: 
"We  shall  all  stand  before  the  judgment  seat 
of  God:  for  it  is  written:  As  I  live,  saith 
the  Lord,  every  knee  shall  bow  to  me,  and 
every  tongue  shall  confess  to  God.'"3  You 
see  then  that  the  judgment  seat  of  Gcd  is  the 
same  as  that  of  Christ ;  understand  then  with- 
out any  doubt  that  Christ  is  God;  and  when 
you  see  that  the  substance  of  God  and  Christ 
is  altogether  inseparable,  admit  also  that  the 
Person  cannot  be  severed.  Unless  forsooth  be- 
cause the  Apostle  in  one  Epistle  said  that  we 
should  be  manifested  before  the  judgment  seat 
of  Christ,  and  in  another  before  that  of  God, 
you  invent  two  judgment  seats,  and  fancy  that 
some  will  be  judged  by  Christ  and  others  by 
God.  But  this  is  foolish  and  wild,  and  mad- 
der than  a  madman '  s  utterances.  Acknowledge 
then  the  Lord  of  all,  the  God  of  the  universe, 
acknowledge  the  judgment  seat  of  God  in  the 
judgment  seat  of  Christ.  Love  life,  love  your 
salvation,  love  Him  by  whom  you  were 
created.  Fear  Him  by  whom  you  are  to  be 
judged.  For  whether  you  will  or  no,  you 
have  to  be  manifested  before  the  judgment 
seat  of  Christ,  and  laying  aside  wicked  blas- 
phemy and  the  childish  talk  of  unbelieving 
words,  though  you  think  that  the  judgment 
seat  of  God  is  different  from  that  of  Christ, 
you  will  come  before  the  judgment  seat  of 
Christ,  and  will  find  by  evidence  that  there  is 
no  gainsaying,  that  the  judgment  seat  of  God 
is  indeed  the  same  as  that  of  Christ,  and  that 
in  Christ  the  Son  of  God,  there  is  all  the  glory 
of  God  the  Son,  and  the  power  of  God  the 


2  2  Cor.  v.  10. 


3  Rom.  xiv.  10,  11. 


BOOK    III. 


567 


Father.  "  For  the  Father  judgeth  no  man,  but 
hath  committed  all  judgment  to  the  Son,  that 
all  men  may  honour  the  Son  as  they  honour 
the  Father. "  x  For  whoever  denies  the  Father 
denies  the  Son  also.  "Whosoever  denieth 
the  Son,  the  same  hath  not  the  Father:  he 
that  confesseth  the  Son,  hath  the  Father 
also."2  And  so  you  should  learn  that  the 
glory  of  the  Father  and  the  Son  is  insepa- 
rable, and  their  majesty  is  inseparable  also; 
and  that  the  Son  cannot  bedionoured  without 
the  Father,  nor  the  Father  without  the  Son. 
But  no  man  can  honour  God  and  the  Son  of 
God  except  in  Christ  the  only-begotten  Son  of 
God.  For  it  is  impossible  for  a  man  to  have 
the  Spirit  of  God  who  is  to  be  honoured  ex- 
cept in  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  as  the  Apostle 
says :  "  But  ye  are  not  in  the  flesh,  but  in 
the  Spirit,  if  so  be  that  the  Spirit  of  God 
dwell  in  you.  But  if  any  man  have  not  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  His."3  And 
again:  "Who  shall  lay  anything  to  the  charge 
of  God's  elect?  It  is  God  that  justifieth. 
Who  is  he  that  condemneth?  It  is  Christ 
lesus  who  died,  yea  rather  who  rose  again."4 
You  see  then  now,  even  against  your  will, 
that  there  is  absolutely  no  difference  between 
the  Spirit  of  God  and  the  Spirit  of  Christ, 
or  between  the  judgment  of  God  and  the 
judgment  of  Christ.  Choose  then  which  you 
will  —  for  one  of  the  two  must  happen  — ■  either 
acknowledge  in  faith  that  ■  Christ  is  God,  or 
admit  that  God  is  in  Christ  at  your  condem- 
nation. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

When  confessing  the  Divinity  of  Christ  we  ought  not  to  pass 
over  in  silence  the  confession  of  the  cross. 

But  let  us  see  what  else  follows.  In  writ- 
ing to  the  church  of  Corinth,  he  whom  we 
spoke  of  above,  the  instructor  of  all  the 
churches  viz.  Paul,  speaks  thus:  "The  Jews," 
says  he,  "  seek  signs,  and  the  Greeks  ask  for 
wisdom.  But  we  preach  Christ  crucified,  to 
the  Jews  a  stumbling-block,  to  the  Gentiles 
foolishness:  but  to  them  that  are  saved,  both 
Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ  the  power  of  God 
and  the  wisdom  of  God."5  O  most  power- 
ful teacher  of  the  faith,  who  even  in  this 
passage,  when  teaching  the  Church  thought 
it  not  enough  to  speak  of  Christ  as  God  with- 
out adding  that  He  was  crucified  on  purpose 
that  for  the  sake  of  the  open  and  solid  teach- 
ing of  the  faith  he  might  proclaim  Him,  whom 
he  called  the  crucified,  to  be  the  wisdom 
of    God.      He   then  employed    no  subtilty  or 


1  S.  John  v.  22,  23. 

2  1  John  ii.  23. 


3  Rom.  viii.  9. 
*  Ibid.  ver.  33,  34. 


5  1  Cor.  i.  22 


circumlocution,  nor  did  he  when  he  preached 
the  gospel  of  the  Lord  blush  at  the  mention 
of  the  cross  of  Christ.  And  though  it  was  a 
stumbling-block  to  the  Jews,  and  foolishness 
to  the  Gentiles  to  hear  of  God  as  born,  God 
in  bodily  form,  God  suffering,  God  crucified, 
yet  he  did  not  weaken  the  force  of  his  pious 
utterance  because  of  the  wickedness  of  the 
offence  of  the  Jews :.  nor  did  he  lessen  the 
vigour  of  his  faith  because  of  the  unbelief 
and  the  foolishness  of  others:  but  openly, 
persistently,  and  boldly  proclaimed  that  He, 
whom  a  mother 6  had  borne,  whom  men  had 
slain,  the  spear  had  pierced,  the  cross  had 
stretched  —  was  "the  power  and  wisdom  of 
God,  to  the  Jews  a  stumbling-block,  and  to 
the  Gentiles  foolishness."  But  still  that 
which  was  to  some  a  stumbling-block  and 
foolishness,  was  to  others  the  power  and  wis- 
dom of  God.  For  as  the  persons  differed,  so 
was  there  a  difference  of  their  thoughts:  and 
what  a  man  who  was  v<?id  of  sound  under- 
standing, and  incapable  of  true  good,  fool- 
ishly denied  in  unbelief,  that  a  wise  faith 
could  feel  in  its  inmost  soul  to  be  holy  and 
life  giving. 

CHAPTER    IX. 

How  the  Apostle's  preaching  was  rejected  by  Jews  and  Gentiles 
because  it  confessed  that  the  crucified  Christ  was  God. 

Tell  me  then,  you  heretic,  you  enemy  of 
all  men,  but  of  yourself  above  all  —  to  whom 
the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  an  offence 
as  with  the  Jews,  and  foolishness  as  with  the 
Gentiles,  you  who  reject  the  mysteries  of  true 
salvation,  with  the  stumbling  of  the  former, 
and  are  foolish  with  the  stubbornness  of  the 
others,  why  was  the  preaching  of  the  Apostle 
Paul  foolishness  to  the  pagans,  and  a  stum- 
bling-block to  the  Jews  ?  Surely  it  would 
never  have  offended  men,  if  he  had  taught 
that  Christ  was,  as  you  maintain  He  is,  a 
mere  man?  For  who  would  think  that  His 
birth,  passion,  cross,  and  death  were  incred- 
ible or  a  difficulty?  Or  what  would  there 
have  been  novel  or  strange  about  the  preach- 
ing of  Paul,  if  he  had  said  that  a  merely 
human  Christ  suffered  that  which  human 
nature  daily  endures  among  men  everywhere? 
But  it  was  surely  this  that  the  foolishness  of 
the  Gentiles  could  not  receive,  and  the  un- 
belief of  the  Jews  rejected;  viz.,  that  the 
Apostle  declared  that  Christ  whom  they,  like 
you,  fancied  to  be  a  mere  man,  was  God. 
This  it  certainly  was  which  the  thoughts  of 
these  wicked  men  rejected,  which  the  ears  of 
the  faithless  could  not  endure;  viz.,   that  the 


c  Mater  (Petschenig) :   Caro  (Gazaeus). 


568 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


birth  of  God  should  be  proclaimed  in  the  man 
Jesus  Christ,  that  the  passion  of  God  should 
be  asserted,  and  the  cross  of  God  proclaimed. 
This  it  was  which  was  a  difficulty:  this  was 
what  was  incredible;  for  that  was  incredible 
to  the  hearing  of  men,  which  had  never 
been  heard  of  as  happening  to  the  Divine 
nature.  And  so  you  are  quite  secure,  with 
such  an  announcement  and  teaching  as  yours, 
that  your  preaching  will  never  be  either  fool- 
ishness to  the  Gentiles  or  a  stumbling-block 
to  the  Jews.  You  will  never  be  crucified 
with  Peter  by  Jews  and  Gentiles,  nor  stoned 
with  James,  nor  beheaded  with  Paul.  For 
there  is  nothing  in  your  preaching  to  offend 
them.  You  maintain  that  a  mere  man  was 
born,  a  mere  man  suffered.  You  need  not  be 
afraid  of  their  troubling  you  with  persecution, 
for  you  are  helping  them  by  your  preaching. 


CHAPTER   X. 

How  the  apostle  maintains  that  Christ  is  the  power  of  God 
and  the  wisdom  of  God. 

But  let  us  see  something  more  on  the  sub- 
ject. Christ  then,  according  to  the  Apostle, 
is  the  power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God. 
What  have  you  to  say  to  this  ?  How  can  you 
get  out  of  it?  There  is  no  place  for  you  to 
escape  and  fly  to.  Christ  is  the  wisdom  of 
God  and  the  power  of  God.  He,  I  say,  whom 
the  Jews  attacked,  the  Gentiles  mocked,  whom 
you  yourself  together  with  them  are  persecu- 
ting,—  He,  I  say,  who  is  foolishness  to  the 
heathen,  and  a  stumbling-block  to  the  Jews, 
and  both  to  you,  He,  I  say,  is  the  power  of 
God  and  the  wisdom  of  God.  What  is  there 
that  you  can  do  ?  Shut  your  ears,  forsooth,  so 
as  not  to  hear?  This  the  Jews  did  also  when 
the  Apostle  was  preaching.  Do  what  you  will, 
Christ  is  in  heaven,  and  in  God,  a'nd  with 
Him,  and  in  Him  in  the  heavens  above  in 
whom  also  He  was  here  below:  you  can  no 
longer  persecute  Him  with  the  Jews.  But 
you  do  the  one  thing  that  you  can.  You 
persecute  Him  in  the  faith,  you  persecute 
Him  in  the  church,  you  persecute  Him  with 
the  arms  of  a  wicked  belief,  you  persecute 
Him  with  the  sword  of  false  doctrine.  Per- 
haps you  do  rather  more  than  the  Jews  of  old 
did.  You  now  persecute  Christ,  after  even 
those  who  did  persecute  Him,  have  believed. 
But  perhaps  you  think  that  the  sin  is  less 
because  you  can  no  longer  lay  hands  on  Him. 
No  less  grievous,  I  tell  you,  no  less  grievous 
to  Him  is  that  persecution,  in  which  sinful 
men  persecute  Him  in  the  persons  of  His  fol- 
lowers.     But  the  mention  of  the  Lord's  cross 


offends  you.  It  always  offended  the  Jews  as 
well.  You  shudder  at  hearing  that  God 
suffered:  the  Gentiles  in  their  error  mocked 
at  this  also.  I  ask  you  then,  in  what  point 
do  you  differ  from  them,  since  you  both  agree 
in  this  frowardness?  But  for  my  part  I  not 
only  do  not  water  down  this  preaching  of  the 
holy  cross,  this  preaching  of  the  Lord's  pas- 
sion, but  as  far  as  my  wishes  and  powers  go  I 
emphasise  it.  For  I  will  declare  that  He  who 
was  crucified  is  not  only  the  power  and  wis- 
dom of  God,  than  which  there  is  nothing 
greater,  but  actually  Lord  of  absolute  Divin- 
ity and  glory.  And  this  the  rather,  because 
this  assertion  of  mine  is  the  doctrine  of  God, 
as  the  Apostle  says:  "We  speak  wisdom 
among  them  that  are  perfect:  but  the  wisdom 
not  of  this  world,  nor  of  the  rulers  of  this 
world  who  are  brought  to  nought :  but  we 
speak  the  hidden  wisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery, 
which  God  ordained  before  the  world,  unto 
our  glory:  which  none  of  the  princes  of  this 
world  knew:  for  if  they  had  known  it,  they 
would  never  have  crucified  the  Lord  of  glory. 
But  as  it  is  written :  that  eye  hath  not  seen, 
nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into  the 
heart  of  man,  what  God  hath  prepared  for 
them  that  love  Him."1  You  see  what  great 
matters  the  Apostle's  discourse  comprises  in 
how  small  a  compass.  He  says  that  he  speaks 
wisdom,  but  a  wisdom  which  only  those  that 
are  perfect  can  know,  and  which  the  prudent 
of  this  world  cannot  know.  For  he  says  that 
this  is  the  wisdom  of  God,  which  is  hidden  in 
a  Divine  mystery,  and  predestined  before  all 
worlds  for  the  glory  of  the  saints :  and  that 
therefore  it  is  only  known  to  those  who  savour 
of  God;  while  the  princes  of  this  world  are 
utterly  ignorant  of  it.  But  he  adds  the  reason, 
to  establish  both  points  that  he  had  mentioned, 
saying :  "  For  if  they  had  known  it,  they  would 
never  have  crucified  the  Lord  of  glory.  But 
it  is  written,  that  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear 
hath  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into  the 
heart  of  man,  what  God  hath  prepared  for 
them  that  love  Him."  You  see  then  how  the 
wisdom  of  God,  hidden  in  a  mystery,  and 
predestined  before  all  worlds,  was  unknown  to 
those  who  crucified  the  Lord  of  glory,  and 
known  by  those,  who  received  it.  And  well 
does  he  say  that  the  wisdom  of  God  was  hid- 
den in  a  mystery,  for  never  yet  could  the  eye 
of  any  man  see,  or  the  ear  hear,  or  the  heart 
imagine  this;  viz.,  that  the  Lord  of  glory 
should  be  born  of  a  virgin  and  come  in  the 
flesh,  and  suffer  all  kinds  of  punishment,  and 
shameful  passion.  But  with  regard  to  these 
gifts  of  God,  as  there  is  no  one  who  —  since 


1  i  Cor.  i.  6-9. 


BOOK    III. 


569 


they  were  hidden  in  a  mystery  —  could  ever  of 
himself  understand  them,  so  blessed  is  he  who 
has  grasped  them  when  they  are  revealed. 
Thus  all  who  have  failed  to  grasp  them  must 
be  reckoned  among  the  princes  of  this  world, 
and  those  who  have  grasped  them  among 
God's  wise  ones.  He  then  does  not  grasp  it 
who  denies  God  born  in  the  flesh;  therefore 
you  also  do  not  grasp  it,  as  you  deny  this. 
But  do  what  you  will,  deny  as  impiously  as 
you  like,  we  the  rather  believe  the  Apostle. 
But  why  should  I  say  the  Apostle  ?  the  rather 
do  we  believe  God.  For  through  the  Apostle 
we  believe  Him,  whom  we  know  to  have 
spoken  by  the  Apostle.  The  Divine  word 
says  that  the  ord  of  glory  was  crucified  by 
the  princes  of  the  world.  You  deny  it.  They 
also  who  crucified  Him  denied  that  it  was  God 
whom  they  were  crucifying.  They  then  who 
confess  Him  have  their  portion  with  the 
Apostle  who  confessed  Him.  You  are  sure  to 
have  your  lot  with  His  persecutors.  What  is 
there  then  that  can  be  replied  to  this?  The 
Apostle  says  that  the  Lord  of  glory  was  cruci- 
fied. Alter  this  if  you  can.  Separate  now, 
if  you  please,  Jesus  from  God.  At  least  you 
cannot  deny  that  Christ  was  crucified  by  the 
Jews.  But  it  was  the  Lord  of  glory  who  was 
crucified.  Therefore  you  must  either  deny 
that  Christ  was  nailed  to  the  cross,  or  you 
must  admit  that  God  was  nailed  to  it. 


CHAPTER   XL 

He  supports  the  same  doctrine  by  proofs  from  the  gospel. 

But  perhaps  it  is  a  difficulty  to  you  that  all 
this  time  I  am  chiefly  using  the  witness  of  the 
Apostle  Paul  alone.  He  is  good  enough  for 
me,  whom  God  chose,  nor  do  I  blush  to  call 
as  the  witness  to  my  faith,  the  man  whom  God 
willed  to  be  the  teacher  of  the  whole  world. 
But  to  yield  to  your  wishes,  as  perhaps  you 
fancy  that  I  have  no  other  proofs  to  use,  hear 
the  perfect  mystery  of  man's  salvation  and 
eternal  bliss,  which  Martha  proclaims  in  the 
gospel.  For  what  does  she  say?  '"Of  a 
truth,  Lord,  I  have  believed  that  Thou  art  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God,  who  art 
come  into  this  world."  x  Learn  the  true  faith 
from  a  woman.  Learn  the  confession  of  eter- 
nal hope.  Yet  you  have  a  splendid  consola- 
tion :  you  need  not  blush  to  be  taught  the 
mystery  of  salvation  by  her,  whose  testimony 
God  did  not  refuse  to  accept. 

1  S.  John  xi.  27. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

He  proves  from  the  renowned  confession  of  the  blessed  Peter 
that  Christ  is  God. 

But  if  you  prefer  the  authority  of  a  greater 
person  (although  you  ought  not  to  slight  the 
authority  of  any  one  of  either  sex,  on  whom 
the  confession  of  the  mystery  confers  weight  — 
for  whatever  may  be  a  person's  condition,  or 
however  humble  his  position,  yet  the  value  of 
his  faith  is  not  thereby  diminished)  let  us 
interrogate  no  beginner  or  untaught  school- 
boy, nor  a  woman  whose  faith  might  perhaps 
appear  to  be  but  rudimentary ;  but  that  greatest 
of  disciples  among  disciples,  and  of  teachers 
among  teachers,  who  presided  and  ruled  over 
the  Roman  Church,  and  held  the  chief  place  2 
in  the  priesthood  as  he  did  in  the  faith.  Tell 
us  then,  tell  us,  we  pray,  O  Peter,  thou  chief 
of  Apostles,  tell  us  how  the  Churches  ought  to 
believe  in  God.  For  it  is  right  that  you 
should  teach  us,  as  you  were  taught  by  the 
Lord,  and  that  you  should  open  to  us  the  gate, 
of  which  you  received  the  key.  Shut  out  all 
those  who  try  to  overthrow  the  heavenly 
house:  and  those  who  are  endeavouring  to 
enter  by  secret  holes  and  unlawful  approaches: 
as  it  is  clear  that  none  can  enter  the  gate  of 
the  kingdom  save  one  to  whom  the  key  be- 
stowed on  the  Churches  is  revealed  by  you. 
Tell  us  then  how  we  ought  to  believe  in  Jesus 
Christ  and  to  confess  our  common  Lord.  You 
will  surely  reply  without  hesitation  :  "  Why  do 
you  consult  me  as  to  the  way  in  which  the 
Lord  should  be  confessed,  when  you  have  be- 
fore you  my  own  confession  of  Him?  Read 
the  gospel,  and  you  will  not  want  me  myself, 
when  you  have  got  my  confession.  Nay,  you 
have  got  me  myself  when  you  have  my  con- 
fession; for  though  /  have  no  weight  apart 
from  my  confession,  yet  the  actual  confession 
adds  weight  to  my  person."  Tell  us  then,  O 
Evangelist,  tell  us  the  confession:  tell  us  the 
faith  of  the  chief  Apostle :  did  he  confess  that 
Jesus  was  only  a  man,  or  God?  did  he  say 
that  there  was  nothing  but  flesh  in  Him,  or 
did  he  proclaim  Him  the  Son  of  God?  When 
then  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  asked  whom  the 
disciples  believed  and  confessed  Him  to  be, 
Peter,  the  first  of  the  Apostles,  replied  —  one 
in  the  name  of  all — for  the  answer  of  one  was 
to  the  same  effect  as  the  faith  of  them  all. 
But  it  was  fitting  that  he  should  first  give  the 
answer,  that  the  order  of  the  answer  might 
correspond  to  the  degree  of  honour:  and  that 
he  might  outstrip  them  in  confession,  as  he 
outstripped  them  in  age.      What  then  does  he 

2  Pri7icifiatus. 


5/o 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


say?  "Thou  art,"  he  says,  "the  Christ  the 
Son  of  the  living  God."  1  I  am  obliged,  you 
heretic,  to  make  use  of  a  plain  and  simple 
question  to  confute  you.  Tell  me,  I  pray, 
who  was  He,  to  whom  Peter  gave  that  answer? 
You  cannot  deny  that  it  was  the  Christ.  I  ask 
then,  what  do  you  call  Christ?  man  or  God? 
Man  certainly  without  any  doubt :  for  hence 
springs  the  whole  of  your  heresy,  because  you 
deny  that  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God.  And  so 
too  you  say  that  Mary  is  Christotocos,  but  not 
Theotocos,  because  she  was  the  mother  of 
Christ,  not  of  God.  Therefore  you  maintain 
that  Christ  is  only  a  man,  and  not  God,  and 
so  that  He  is  the  Son  of  man  not  of  God. 
What  then  does  Peter  reply  to  this?  "Thou 
art,"  he  says,  "the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 
living  God."  That  Christ  whom  you  declare 
to  be  only  the  Son  of  man,  he  testifies  to  be 
the  Son  of  God.  Whom  would  you  like  us  to 
believe?  you  or  Peter?  I  imagine  that  you 
are  not  so  shameless  as  to  venture  to  prefer 
your  own  opinion  to  that  of  the  first  of  the 
Apostles.  And  yet  what  is  there  that  you 
would  not  venture  on?  or  how  can  you  help 
scorning  the  Apostle,  if  you  can  deny  God? 
"Thou  art  then,'*  he  says,  "the  Christ,  the 
Son  of  the  living  God."  Is  there  anything 
puzzling  or  obscure  in  this?  It  is  nothing  but 
a  plain  and  open  confession :  he  proclaims 
Christ  to  be  the  Son  of  God.  Perhaps  you 
will  deny  that  the  words  were  spoken :  but 
the  Evangelist  testifies  that  they  were.  Or  do 
you  say  that  the  Apostle  told  a  lie?  But  it  is 
an  awful  lie  to  accuse  an  Apostle  of  lying. 
Or  perhaps  you  will  maintain  that  the  words 
were  spoken  of  some  other  Christ?  But  this 
is  a  novel  kind  of  monstrous  fabrication. 
What  then  is  left  for  you?  One  thing  indeed; 
viz.,  that  since  what  is  written  is  read,  and 
what  is  read  is  true,  you  should  finally  be 
driven  by  force  and  compulsion  (as  you 
cannot  assert  its  falsehood)  to  desist  from 
impugning  its  truth. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

The  confession  of  the  blessed  Peter  receives  a  testimony  to  its 
truth  from  Christ  Himself. 

But  still,  as  I  have  made  use  of  the  testi- 
mony of  the  chief  Apostle,  in  which  he  openly 
confessed  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  God,  let 
us  see  how  He  whom  he  confessed  approved 
of  his  confession ;  for  of  far  more  value  than 
the  Apostle's  words  is  the  fact  that  God 
Himself  commended  his  utterance.  When 
then  the  Apostle  said:  "Thou  art  the  Christ 


1  S.  Matt.  xvi.  16. 


the  Son  of  the  living  God,"  what  was  the 
answer  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour?  "Blessed 
art  thou,"  said  He,  "Simon  Barjonah,  for 
Mesh  and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee 
but  the  Spirit  of  My  Father  which  is  in 
heaven."  If  you  do  not  like  to  use  the  testi- 
mony of  the  Apostle  use  that  of  God.  For  by 
commending  what  was  said  God  added  His 
own  authority  to  the  Apostle's  utterance,  so 
that  although  the  utterance  came  from  the 
lips  of  the  Apostle,  yet  God  who  approved  of 
it  made  it  His  own.  "  Blessed  art  thou,"  said 
He,  "Simon  Barjonah,  for  flesh  and  blood 
hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but  the  Spirit 
of  My  Father  which  is  in  heaven."  Thus  in 
the  words  of  the  Apostle  you  have  the  testi- 
mony of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  of  the  Son  who 
was  present  and  of  God  the  Father.  What 
more  can  you  want,  or  what  comes  up  to  this? 
The  Son  commended  :  the  Father  was  present : 
the  Holy  Ghost  revealed.  The  utterance  of 
the  Apostle  thus  gives  the  testimony  of  the 
entire  Godhead :  for  this  utterance  must  neces- 
sarily have  the  authority  of  Him  from  whose 
prompting  it  proceeds.  "  Blessed  then  art 
thou,"  said  He,  "Simon  Barjonah,  for  flesh 
and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but 
the  Spirit  of  My  Father  which  is  in  heaven." 
If  then  flesh  and  blood  did  not  reveal  this  to 
Peter  or  inspire  him,  you  must  at  last  see  who 
inspires  you.  If  the  Spirit  of  God  taught  him 
who  confessed  that  Christ  was  God,  you  see 
how  you  are  taught  by  the  spirit  of  the  devil  if 
you  can  deny  it. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

How  the  confession  of  the  blessed   Peter  is  the  faith  of  the 
whole  Church. 

But  what  are  the  other  words  which  follow 
that  saying  of  the  Lord's,  with  which  He 
commends  Peter?  "And  I,"  said  He,  "say 
unto  thee,  that  thou  art  Peter  and  upon  this 
rock  I  will  build  My  Church."  Do  you  see 
how  the  saying  of  Peter  is  the  faith  of  the 
Church?  He  then  must  of  course  be  outside 
the  Church,  who  does  not  hold  the  faith  of  the 
Church.  "And  to  thee,"  saith  the  Lord,  "I 
will  give  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 
This  faith  deserved  heaven :  this  faith  re- 
ceived the  keys  of  the  heavenly  kingdom. 
See  what  awaits  you.  You  cannot  enter  the 
gate  to  which  this  key  belongs,  if  you  have 
denied  the  faith  of  this  key.  "And  the 
gate,"  He  adds,  "of  hell  shall  not  prevail 
against  thee."  The  gates  of  hell  are  the 
belief  or  rather  the  misbelief  of  heretics. 
For  widely  as  hell  is  separated  from  heaven, 


BOOK   III. 


571 


so  widely  is  he  who  denies  from  him  who 
confessed  that  Christ  is  God.  "Whatsoever," 
He  proceeds,,  "thou  shalt  bind  on  earth,  shalt 
be  bound  in  heaven,  and  whatsoever  thou 
shalt  loose  on  earth,  shalt  be  loosed  also  in 
heaven."  The  perfect  faith  of  the  Apostle 
somehow  is  given  the  power  of  Deity,  that 
what  it  should  bind  or  loose  on  earth,  might 
be  bound  or  loosed  in  heaven.  For  you  then, 
who  come  against  the  Apostle's  faith,  as  you 
see  that  already  you  are  bound  on  earth,  it 
only  remains  that  you  should  know  that  you 
are  bound  also  in  heaven.  But  it  would 
take  too  long  to  go  into  details  which  are  so 
numerous  as  to  make  a  long  and  wearisome 
story,  even  if  they  are  related  with  brevity 
and  conciseness. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

St.  Thomas  also  confessed  the  same  faith  as  Peter  after  the 
Lord's  resurrection. 

But  I  want  still  to  add  one  more  testimony 
from  an  Apostle  for  you:  that  you  may  see 
how  what  followed  after  the  passion  corres- 
ponded with  what  went  before  it.  When  then 
the  Lord  appeared  in  the  midst  of  His  dis- 
ciples when  the  doors  were  shut,  and  wished 
to  make  clear  to  the  Apostles  the  reality  of 
His  body,  when  the  Apostle  Thomas  felt  His 
flesh  and  handled  His  side  and  examined  His 
wounds  —  what  was  it  that  he  declared,  when 
he  was  convinced  of  the  reality  of  the  body 
shown  to  him?  "My  Lord,"  he  said,  "and 
my  God."  1  Did  he  say  what  you  say,  that  it 
was  a  man  and  not  God?  Christ  and  not 
Divinity?  He  surely  touched  the  body  of  his 
Lord  and  answered  that  He  was  God.  Did 
he  make  any  separation  between  man  and 
God?  or  did  he  call  that  flesh  Theotocos,  to 
use  your  expx'ession,  i.e.,  that  which  received 
Divinity?  or  did  he,  after  the  fashion  of  your 
blasphemy,  declare  that  He  whom  he  touched 
was  to  be  honoured  not  for  His  own  sake,  but 
for  the  sake  of  Him  whom  He  had  received 
into  Himself?  But  perhaps  God's  Apostle 
knew  nothing  of  that  subtle  separation  of 
yours,  and  had  no  experience  of  the  fine  dis- 
tinctions of  your  judgment,  as  he  was  a  rude 
countryman,  ignorant  of  the  dialectic  art,  and 
of  the  method  of  philosophic  disputation;  for 
whom  the  Lord's  teaching  was  amply  suffi- 
cient, and  as  he  was  one  who  knew  nothing 
whatever  except  what  he  learnt  from  the  in- 
struction of  the  Lord !  And  so  his  words  con- 
tain heavenly  doctrine;  his  faith  is  a  Divine 
lesson.      He  had  never  learnt  to  separate,  as 


1  S.  John  xx.  28. 


you  do,  the  Lord  from  His  body:  and  had  no 
idea  how  to  rend  God  asunder  from  Himself. 
He  was  holy,  straightforward,  upright:  filled 
with  practical  innocence,  unalloyed  faith,  and 
pure  knowledge :  having  a  simple  understand- 
ing joined  with  prudence,  a  wisdom  entirely 
free  from  all  evil,  together  with  perfect  sim- 
plicity: ignorant  of  any  corruption,  and  free 
from  all  heretical  perversity,  and  as  one  who 
had  experienced  in  himself  the  force  of  the 
Divine  lesson,  he  held  fast  everything  which 
he  had  learnt.  And  so  he  —  countryman  and 
ignorant  fellow  as  you  fancy  him  —  shuts  you 
up  with  a  brief  answer,  and  destroys  your 
position  with  a  few  words  of  his.  What  then 
did  the  Apostle  Thomas  touch  when  he  drew 
near  to  handle  his  God?  Certainly  it  was 
Christ  without  any  doubt.  But  what  did  he 
exclaim?  "My  Lord,"  he  said,  "and  my 
God. "  Now,  if  you  can,  separate  Christ  from 
God,  and  change  this  saying,  if  you  are  able 
to.  Make  use  of  all  dialectic  art  —  all  the 
prudence  of  this  world,  and  that  foolish  wis- 
dom which  consists  in  wordy  subtlety.  Turn 
yourself  about  in  every  direction,  and  draw  in 
your  horns.  Do  whatever  you  can  with  inge- 
nuity and  art.  Say  what  you  like,  and  do 
what  you  like  ;  you  cannot  possibly  get  out  of 
this  without  confessing  that  what  the  Apostle 
touched  was  God.  And  indeed,  if  the  thing 
can  possibly  be  done,  perhaps  you  will  want  to 
alter  the  statement  of  the  gospel  story,  so  that 
we  may  not  read  that  the  Apostle  Thomas 
touched  the  body  of  the  Lord,  or  that  he 
called  Christ  Lord  and  God.  But  it  is  abso- 
lutely impossible  to  alter  what  is  written  in 
the  gospel  of  God.  For  "heaven  and  earth 
shall  pass  away,  but  the  words  "  of  God  "  shall 
not  pass  away."  2  For  lo,  even  now  he  who 
then  bore  his  witness,  the  Apostle  Thomas, 
proclaims  to  you :  "Jesus  whom  I  touched  is 
God.  It  is  God  whose  limbs  I  handled.  I  did 
not  feel  what  was  incorporeal,  not  handle  what 
was  intangible :  I  touched  not  a  Spirit  with 
my  hand,  so  that  it  might  be  believed  that  I 
said  of  it  alone  'It  is  God.'  For  'a  spirit,' 
as  my  Lord  Himself  said,  '  hath  not  flesh  and 
bones.' 3  I  touched  the  body  of  my  Lord. 
I  handled  flesh  and  bones.  I  put  my  fingers 
into  the  prints  of  the  wounds  :  and  I  declared 
of  Christ  my  Lord,  whom  I  had  handled : 
'  My  Lord  and  my  God.'  For  I  know  not 
how  to  make  a  separation  between  Christ  and 
God,  and  I  cannot  insert  blasphemous  distinc- 
tions between  Jesus  and  God,  or  rend  my  Lord 
asunder  from  Himself.  Away  from  me,  who- 
ever is  of  a  different  opinion,  and  whoever 
says    anything    different.     I    know    not    that 


2  S.  Matt.  xxiv.  35. 


3  S.  Luke  xxiv.  39. 


572 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


Christ  is  other  than  God.  This  faith  I  held 
together  with  my  fellow  apostles  :  this  I  de- 
livered to  the  Churches:  this  I  preached  to 
the  Gentiles :  this  I  proclaim  to  thee  also, 
Christ  is  God,  Christ  is  God.  A  sound  mind 
imagines  nothing  else :  a  sound  faith  says 
nothing  else.  The  Deity  cannot  be  parted 
from  Itself.  And  since  whatever  is  Christ  is 
God,  there  can  be  found  in  God  none  other 
but  God." 


CHAPTER   XVI. 


He   brings   forward  the  witness  of    God   the   Father  to  the 
Divinity  of  the  Son. 


What  do  you  say  now,  you  heretic  ?  Are 
these  evidences  of  the  faith,  aye  and  of  all 
your  unbelief,  enough  for  you  :  or  would  you 
like  some  more  to  be  added  to  them  ?  but 
what  can  be  added  after  Prophets  and  Apos- 
tles? unless  perhaps  —  as  the  Jews  once  de- 
manded —  you  too  might  ask  for  a  sign  to  be 
given  you  from  heaven  ?  But  if  you  ask  this, 
we  must  give  you  the  same  answer  which  was 
formerly  given  to  them  :  "  An  evil  and  adul- 
terous generation  seeketh  after  a  sign.  And 
no  sign  shall  be  given  to  it,  but  the  sign  of  the 
prophet  Jonah."  1  And  indeed  this  sign  would 
be  enough  for  you  as  for  the  Jews  who  cruci- 
fied Him,  that  you  might  be  taught  to  believe 
in  the  Lord  God  by  this  alone,  through  which 
even  those  who  had  persecuted  Him,  came  to 
believe.  But  as  we  have  mentioned  a  sign 
from  heaven,  I  will  show  you  a  sign  from 
heaven :  and  one  of  such  a  character  that 
even  the  devils  have  never  gainsaid  it : 
while,  constrained  by  the  demands  of  truth, 
though  they  saw  Jesus  in  bodily  form,  they  yet 
cried  out  that  He  was  God,  as  indeed  He  was. 
What  then  does  the  Evangelist  say  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ?  "When  He  was  baptized,"  he 
says,  "  straightway  He  went  up  out  of  the 
water.  And  lo,  the  heavens  were  opened  to 
Him,  and  He  saw  the  Spirit  descending  like 
a  dove,  and  coining  upon  Him.  And  behold, 
a  voice  from  heaven,  saying :  This  is  My  be- 
loved Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased."2 
What  do  you  say  to  this,  you  heretic  ?  Do  you 
dislike  the  words  spoken,  or  the  Person  of  the 
Speaker  ?  The  meaning  of  the  utterance  at 
any  rate  needs  no  explanation  :  nor  does  the 
worth  of  the  Speaker  need  the  commendation 
of  words.  It  is  God  the  Father  who  spoke. 
What  He  said  is  clear  enough.  Surely  you 
cannot  make  so  shameless  and  blasphemous 
an  assertion  as  to  say  that  God  the  Father  is 


1  S.  Matt.  xvi.  4. 


2  S.  Matt.  iii.  16,  17. 


not  to  be  believed  concerning  the  only  begotten 
Son  of  God?  "This,"  He  then  says,  "is  My 
beloved  Son  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased." 
But  perhaps  you  will  try  to  maintain  that  this 
is  madness,  and  that  this  was  said  of  the  Word 
and  not  of  Christ.  Tell  me  then  who  was  it 
who  was  baptized  ?  The  Word  or  Christ  ? 
Flesh  or  Spirit  ?  You  cannot  possibly  deny 
that  it  was  Christ.  That  man  then,  born  of 
man  and  of  God,  conceived  by  the  descent 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  the  Virgin,  and  by 
the  overshadowing  of  the  Power  of  the  Most 
High,  and  thus  the  Son  of  man  and  of  God, 
He  it  was,  as  you  cannot  deny,  who  was  bap- 
tized. If  then  it  was  He  who  was  baptized, 
it  was  He  also  who  was  named,  for  certainly 
the  Person  who  was  baptized  was  the  one 
named.  "This,"  said  He,  "is  My  beloved 
Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased."  Could 
anything  be  said  with  greater  significance 
or  clearness  ?  Christ  was  baptized.  Christ 
went  up  out  of  the  water.  When  Christ  was 
baptized  the  heavens  were  cpened.  For 
Christ's  sake  the  dove  descended  upon  Christ, 
the  Holy  Spirit  was  present  in  a  bodily  form. 
The  Father  addressed  Christ.  #  If  you  ven- 
ture to  deny  that  this  was  spoken  of  Christ, 
the  only  thing  is  for  you  to  maintain  that 
Christ  was  not  baptized,  that  the  Spirit  did 
not  descend,  and  that  the  Father  did  not 
speak.  But  the  truth  itself  is  urgent  and 
weighs  you  down  so  that  even  if  you  will  not 
confess  it,  yet  you  cannot  deny  it.  For  what 
says  the  Evangelist  ?  "  When  He  was  bap- 
tized, straightway  Fie  went  up  out  of  the 
water."  Who  was  baptized  ?  Most  certainly 
Christ.  "And  behold,"  he  says,  "the  heavens 
were  opened  to  Him."  To  whcm,  forsooth, 
save  to  Him  who  was  baptized  ?  Most  cer- 
tainly to  Christ.  "And  He  saw  the  Spirit  of 
God  descending  like  a  dove  and  ccming  upon 
Him."  Who  saw?  Christ  indeed.  Fpcn 
whom  did  It  descend  ?  Most  certainly  upon 
Christ.  "  And  a  voice  came  from  heaven, 
saying"  —  of  whom?  Cf  Christ  indeed:  for 
what  follows?  "This  is  My  beloved  Sen,  in 
whom  I  am  well  pleased."  In  order  that  it 
might  be  made  clear  on  whose  account  all 
this  happened,  there  followed  the  voice,  say- 
ing :  "This  is  My  beloved  Son,"  as  if  to  say  : 
This  is  He  on  whose  account  all  this  tcok 
place.  For  this  is  My  Son  :  on  His  account 
the  heavens  were  opened:  on  His  account  My 
Spirit  came :  on  His  account  My  voice  was 
heard.  For  this  is  My  Son.  In  saying  then 
"This  is  My  Son"  whom  did  He  so  desig- 
nate ?  Certainly  Him  whom  the  clove  touched. 
And  whom  did  the  dove  touch  ?  Christ  in- 
deed. Therefore  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God. 
My  promise  is  fulfilled,  I  fancy.     Do  you  see 


BOOK    IV. 


573 


then  now,  O  heretic,  a  sign  given  you  from 
heaven ;  and  not  one  only,  but  many  and 
special  ones  ?  For  there  is  one  in  the  opening 
of  heaven,  another  in  the  descent  of  the  Spirit, 
a  third  in  the  voice  of  the  Father.  All  of 
which  most  clearly  show  that  Christ  is  God, 
for  the  laying  open  of  the  heavens  indicates 
that  He  is  God,  and  the  descent  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  upon  Him  supports  His  Divinity,  and 
the  address  of  the  Father  confirms  it.  For 
heaven  would  not  have  been  opened  except 
in  honour  of  its  Lord  :  nor  would  the  Holy 
Ghost  have  descended  in  a  bodily  form  except 
upon  the  Son  of  God :  nor  would  the  Father 
have  declared  Him  to  be  the  Son,  had  he  not 
been  truly  such;  especially  with  such  tokens 
of  a  Divine  birth,  as  not  merely  to  confirm  the 
truth  of  the  right  faith,  but  also  to  exclude 
the  wickedness  of  guilty  and  erroneous  belief. 
For  when  the  Father  had  expressly  and  point- 
edly said  with  the  inexpressible  majesty  of  a 
Divine  utterance,  "This  is  My  Son,"  He 
added  also  what  follows  —  I  mean,  "  My  be- 
loved, in  whom  I  am  well  pleased."  As  He 
had  already  declared  Him  by  the  prophet  to 
be  God  the  Mighty  and  God  the  Great,  so 
when  He  says  here,  "My  beloved  Son  in 
whom  I  am  well  pleased,"  He  adds  further 
to  the  name  of  His  own  Son  the  title  also  of 
His  beloved  Son,  in  whom  He  is  well  pleased  : 
that  the  addition  of  the  titles  might  denote  the 


special  properties  of  the  Divine  nature  ;  and 
I  that  that  might  specially  redound  to  the  glory 
,  of  the  Son  of  God,  which  had  never  happened 
I  to  any  man.     And  so  just  as  in  the  case  of  our 
Lord   Jesus  Christ   these  special  and   unique 
'  things  happened ;  viz.,  that  the  heavens  were 
opened,  that  in  the  sight  of  all  God  the  Father 
touched   Him   in    a  sort  of  way,  through  the 
coming  and  presence  of  the  dove,  and  pointed 
almost  with  His  finger  to  Him  saying,  "  This 
is  My  Son  ;  "  so  this  too  is  special  and  unique 
in  His  case  ;  viz.,  that  He  is  specially  beloved, 
and  is  specially  named  as  well-pleasing  to  the 
Father,  in  order  that  these  special  accompani- 
ments might  mark  the  special  import  of  His 
nature,  and  that  the  special  character  of  His 
names  might  support  the  special  position  of 
the  only  begotten  Son,  which  the  honour  of  the 
signs  previously  given  had  already  confirmed. 
But  here   comes  the  end  of  this  book.     For 
I  this  saying  of  God  the  Father  can  neither  be 
added  to,  nor  equalled  by  any  words  of  men. 
For   us    God  the   Father   Himself  is  a  suffi- 
ciently  satisfactory   witness    concerning    our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  when  He  says  "This  is  My 
,  Son."     If  you  think  that  it  is  possible  for  these 
utterances  of  God  the  Father  to  be  gainsaid, 
,  then  you  are  forced  to  contradict  Him,  who  by 
the  clearest    possible    announcement   caused 
Him  to  be  acknowledged  as  His  Son  by  the 
whole  world. 


BOOK   IV. 


CHAPTER   I. 

That  Christ  was  before  the  Incarnation  God  from 
everlasting. 

As  we  have  finished  three  books  with  the 
most  certain  and  the  most  valuable  witnesses, 
whose  truth  is  substantiated  not  only  by  human 
but  also  by  Divine  evidences,  they  would 
abundantly  suffice  to  prove  our  case  by  Divine 
authority,  especially  as  the  Divine  authority 
of  the  case  itself  would  be  enough  for  this. 
But  still  as  the  whole  mass  of  the  sacred 
Scriptures  is  full  of  these  evidences,  and 
where  there  are  so  many  witnesses,  there  are 
so  many  opinions  to  be  urged  —  nay  where 
Holy  Scripture  itself  gives  its  witness  so  to 
speak  with  one  Divine  mouth  —  we  have 
thought  it  well  to  add  some  others  still,  not 
from  any  need  of  confirmation,  but  because  of 
the  supply  of  material  at  our  disposal ;  so  that 
anything  which  might  be  unnecessary  for  pur- 
poses of  defence,  might  be  useful  by  way  of 


ornamentation.  Therefore  since  in  the  earlier 
books  we  proved  the  Divinity  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  while  He  was  in  the  flesh  by  the 
evidence  not  only  of  prophets  and  apostles, 
but  of  evangelists  and  angels  as  well,  let  us 
now  show  that  He  who  was  born  in  the  flesh 
was  God  even  before  His  Incarnation  ;  that 
you  may  understand  by  the  harmony  and  con- 
cord of  the  evidences  from  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures, that  you  ought  to  believe  that  at  His 
birth  in  the  body  He  was  both  God  and  man, 
who  before  His  birth  was  only  God,  and  that 
He  who  after  He  had  been  brought  forth  by 
the  Virgin  in  the  body  was  God,  was  before 
His  birth  from  the  Virgin,  God  the  Word. 
Learn  then  first  of  all  from  the  Apostle  the 
teacher  of  the  whole  world,  that  He  who  is 
without  beginning,  God,  the  Son  of  God,  be- 
came the  Son  of  man  at  the  end  of  the  world, 
i.e.,  in  the  fulness  of  the  times.  For  he  says : 
"  But  when  the  fulness  of  the  times  was  come, 
God  sent  His  Son,  made  of  a  woman,  made 


574 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


under  the  law."  1  Tell  me  then,  before  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  born  of  His  mother 
Mary,  had  God  a  Son  or  had  He  not  ?  You 
cannot  deny  that  He  had,  for  never  yet  was 
there  either  a  son  without  a  father,  or  a 
father  without  a  son :  because  as  a  son  is 
so  called  with  reference  to  a  father,  so  is  a 
father  so  named  with  reference  to  a  son. 


CHAPTER    II. 

He  infers  from  what  he  has  said  that  the  Virgin  Mary  gave 
birth  to  a  Son  who  had  pre-existed  and  was  greater  than  she 
herself  was. 

You  see  then  that  when  the  Apostle  says 
that  God  sent  His  Son,  it  was  His  own  Son, 
to  use  the  actual  words  of  the  Apostle,  "  His 
own  Son"  that  God  sent.  For,  since  He  sent 
His  own  Son,  it  was  not  some  one  else's  Son 
that  He  sent,  nor  could  He  send  Him  at  all 
if  He  who  was  sent  had  no  existence.  He 
sent  then,  he  says,  "  His  own  Son,  made  of  a 
woman."  Therefore  because  He  sent  Him, 
He  sent  one  who  existed  :  and  because  He 
sent  His  own,  it  certainly  was  not  another's 
but  His  own  whom  He  sent.  What  then  be- 
comes of  that  argument  of  yours  drawn  from 
this  world's  subtleties  ?  No  one  ever  yet  gave 
birth  to  one  who  had  already  existed  before. 
For  had  not  the  Lord  a  pre-existence  before 
Mary?  Was  not  the  Son  of  God  existent 
before  the  daughter  of  man  ?  In  a  word  did 
not  God  Himself  exist  before  man  —  since  cer- 
tainly there  is  no  man  who  is  not  from  God. 
You  see  then  that  I  do  not  merely  say  that 
Mary  gave  birth  to  one  who  had  existed  be- 
fore her,  not  only,  I  say,  one  who  had  existed 
before  her,  but  one  who  was  the  author  of 
her  being,  and  that  in  giving  birth  to  her  Cre- 
ator, she  became  the  mother  of  Him  who  gave 
her  being  :  because  it  was  as  simple  for  Gcd 
to  bring  about  birth  for  Himself  as  for  man, 
and  as  easy  for  Him  to  arrange  that  He  Him- 
self should  be  born  of  mankind,  as  that  a  man 
should  be  born.  For  the  power  of  God  is  not 
limited  in  regard  to  His  own  Person,  as  if 
what  was  allowable  to  Him  in  the  case  of  all 
others,  was  not  allowable  in  His  own  case,  and 
as  if  He  who  in  the  Divine  nature  could  do  all 
things  as  God,  was  yet  unable  in  His  own  Per- 
son to  become  God  in  man.  Setting  aside  then 
and  rejecting  your  foolish  and  feeble  and  dull 
arguments  from  earthly  things,  we  ought  merely 
to  put  credence  in  straightforward  evidence 
and  the  naked  truth,  and  to  adapt  our  faith  to 
those  witnesses  of  God  alone,  whom  God  sent, 


and  in  whose  person  He  Himself,  so  to  speak, 
preached.  For  it  is  right  to  believe  Him  in  a 
matter  concerning  knowledge  of  Himself,  as 
everything  that  we  know  of  Him  comes  from 
Him  Himself,  for  God  could  not  possibly  be 
known  of  men,  unless  He  Himself  gave  us  the 
knowledge  of  Himself.  And  so  it  is  right  that 
we  should  believe  everything  of  Him  that  we 
know,  from  whom  comes  everything  that  we 
know,  for  if  we  do  not  believe  Him  from  whom 
our  knowledge  comes,  the  result  will  be  that 
we  shall  know  nothing  at  all,  since  we  refuse 
to  believe  Him,  through  whom  our  knowledge 
comes. 

CHAPTER   III. 

He  proves  from  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  the  eternal 
Divinity  of  Christ. 

And  so  as  it  is  clear  from  the  above  testi- 
mony that  God  sent  His  own  Son,  and  that 
He  who  was  ever  the  Son  of  God  became  the 
Son  of  man,  let  us  see  whether  the  same 
Apostle  gives  any  other  testimony  of  the  same 
sort  elsewhere,  that  the  truth  which  is  already 
clear  enough  in  itself,  may  be  rendered  still 
more  clear  by  the  light  of  a  twofold  testimony. 
So  then-  the  same  Apostle  says:  "God  sent 
His  own  Son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh."2 
You  see  that  the  Apostle  certainly  did  not 
use  these  words  by  chance  or  at  random,  as 
he  repeated  what  he  had  already  said  once 
—  for  indeed  there  could  not  be  found  in  him 
chance  or  want  of  consideration  as  the  fulness 
of  Divine  counsel  and  speech  had  taken  up  its 
abode  in  him.  What  then  does  he  say?  "  God 
sent  His  own  Son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful 
flesh."  He  says  the  same  thing  again  and  re- 
peats it,  saying,  "  God  sent  His  own  Son." 
Oh  renowned  and  excellent  teacher !  for 
knowing  that  in  this  is  contained  the  whole 
mystery3  of  the  Catholic  faith,  in  order  that  it 
might  be  believed  that  the  Lord  was  born  in 
the  flesh  and  that  the  Son  of  God  was  sent  into 
this  world,  again  and  again  he  makes  the  same 
proclamation  saying,  "  God  sent  His  own 
Son."  Nor  need  we  wonder  that  he  who  was 
specially  sent  to  preach  the  coming  of  God, 
made  this  announcement,  since  even  before 
the  law,  the  giver  of  the  law  himself  proclaimed 
it,  saying  :  "  I  beseech  Thee,  O  Lord,  provide 
another  whom  Thou  mayest  send,"  or  as  it 
stands  still  more  clearly  in  the  Hebrew  text : 
"  I  beseech  Thee,  O  Lord,  send  whom  Thou 
wilt  send."  4     It  is  clear  that  the  holy  prophet, 


1  Gal.  iv.  4. 


2  Rom.  viii.  3.  3  Sacramenttim. 

*  Exod.  iv.  13.  Where  the  LXX.  has  Aeo/xai.  xvpie,  Trpoxei'p'O'ai 
Swa/ievov  aAAoi'  ov  a.irotne\el<;,  which  was  followed  by  the  old 
Latin.  Jerome  however  rendered  the  passage  correctly  from  the 
Hebrew:  "  obsecro,  Domine,  mitte  quem  misurus  es."  Cf.  the 
note  on  the  Institutes,  XII.  xxxi. 


BOOK    IV. 


575 


feeling  in  himself  a  yearning  for  the  whole 
human  race,  prayed  as  it  were  with  the  voices 
of  all  mankind  to  God  the  Father  that  He 
would  send  as  speedily  as  possible  Him  who 
was  to  be  sent  by  the  Father  for  the  redemp- 
tion and  salvation  of  all  men,  when  he  said, 
"  I  beseech  Thee,  O  Lord,  send  whom  Thou 
wilt  send."  "  God,"  he  therefore  says,  "  sent 
His  own  Son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh." 
Full  well,  when  he  says  that  He  was  sent  in 
the  flesh,  does  he  exclude  for  Him  sin  of  the 
flesh  :  for  he  says  "God  sent  His  own  Son  in 
the  likeness  of  the  flesh  of  sin,"  in  order  that 
we  may  know  that  though  the  flesh  was  truly 
taken,  yet  there  was  no  true  sin,  and  that,  as 
far  as  the  body  is  concerned,  we  should  under- 
stand that  there  was  reality ;  as  far  as  sin  is 
concerned,  only  the  likeness  of  sin.  For  though 
all  flesh  is  sinful,  yet  He  had  flesh  without 
sin,  and  had  in  Himself  the  likeness  of  sinful 
flesh,  while  He  was  in  the  flesh :  but  He  was 
free  from  what  was  truly  sin,  because  He  was 
without  sin :  and  therefore  he  says :  "  God 
sent  His  own  Son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful 
flesh." 

CHAPTER    IV. 

He  brings  forward  other  testimonies  to  the  same  view. 

If  you  would  know  how  admirably  the 
Apostle  preached  this,  hear  how  this  utter- 
ance was  put  into  his  mouth  ;  as  if  from  the 
mouth  of  God  Himself,  as  the  Lord  says : 
"  For  God  sent  not  His  Son  into  the  world  to 
judge  the  world,  but  that  the  world  might  be 
saved  through  Him."  :  For  lo,  as  you  see, 
the  Lord  Himself  affirms  that  He  was  sent  by 
God  the  Father  to  save  mankind.  But  if  you 
think  that  it  ought  to  be  shown  still  more 
clearly,  what  Son  God  sent  to  save  men,  — 
though  God's  own  and  only  begotten  can  only 
be  one,  and  when  God  is  said  to  have  sent 
His  Son,  He  is  certainly  shown  to  have  sent 
His  only  begotten  Son,  — -  yet  hear  the  prophet 
David  pointing  out  with  the  utmost  clear- 
ness Him  who  was  sent  for  the  salvation  of  Men. 
"  He  sent,"  said  he,  "  His  Word  and  healed 
them."  2  Can  you  twist  this  so  as  to  refer  it  to 
the  flesh  as  if  you  could  say  that  a  mere  man 
was  sent  by  God  to  heal  mankind  ?  You  cer- 
tainly cannot,  for  the  prophet  David  and  all 
the  holy  Scriptures  would  cry  out  against  you, 
saying,  "He  sent  His  Word  and  healed  them." 
You  see  then,  that  the  Word  was  sent  to  heal 
men,  for  though  healing  was  given  through 
Christ,  yet  the  Word  of  God  was  in  Christ, 
and  healed  all  things  through  Christ :  and  so 


1  S.  John  iii.  17. 


3  Ps.  cvi.  (cvii.)  20. 


since  Christ  and  the  Word  were  united  in  the 
mystery  of  the  Incarnation,  Christ  and  the 
Word  of  God  became  one  Son  of  God  in 
either  substance.  And  when  the  Apostle 
John  was  anxious  to  state  this  clearly,  he  said 
"  God  sent  His  Son  to  be  the  Saviour  of  the 
world."3  Do  you  see  how  he  joined  together 
God  and  man  in  an  union  that  cannot  be 
severed  ?  For  Christ  who  was  born  of  Mary 
is  without  the  slightest  doubt  called  Saviour, 
as  it  is  said,  "  For  to  you  is  born  this  day  a 
Saviour,  which  is  Christ  the  Lord."  4  But  here 
he  calls  the  very  Word  of  God,  which  was  sent, 
a  Saviour,  saying :  "  God  sent  his  Son  to  be 
the  Saviour  of  the  world." 


CHAPTER   V. 

How  in  virtue  of  the  hypostatic  union  of  the  two  natures  in 
Christ  the  Word  is  rightly  termed  the  Saviour,  or  incarnate 
man,  and  the  Son  of  God. 

And  so  it  is  clear  that  through  the  mystery 
of  the  Word  of  God  joined  to  man,  the  Word, 
which  was  sent  to  save  men,  can  be  termed 
Saviour,  and  the  Saviour,  who  was  born  in  the 
flesh,  can  through  union  with  the  Word  be 
called  the  Son  of  God  ;  and  so  through  the 
indifferent  use  of  either  title,  since  God  is 
joined  to  man,  whatever  is  God  and  man,  can 
be  termed  altogether  God.5  And  so  the  same 
Apostle  well  adds  the  words :  "  Whoever  be- 
lieveth  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God,  God 
abideth  in  him,  and  the  love  of  God  is  per- 
fected in  him."  6  He  tells  us  that  he  believes, 
and  declares  that  he  is  filled  with  divine  love, 
who  believes  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God. 
But  he  testifies  that  the  Word  of  God  is  the 
Son  of  God,  and  thus  means  us  fully  to  under- 
stand that  the  only  begotten  Word  of  God, 
and  Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  God  are  one  and 
the  same  Person.  But  do  you  want  to  be  told 
more  fully  that,  —  though  Christ  according  to 
the  flesh  was  truly  born  as  man  of  man,  —  yet 
in  virtue  of  the  ineffable  unity  of  the  mystery, 
by  which  man  was  joined  to  God,  there  is  no 
separation  between  Christ  and  the  Word  ?  Hear 
the  gospel  of  the  Lord,  or  rather  hear  the  Lord 


3  1  John  iv.  14.  4  S.  Luke  ii.  11. 

5  Cf.  Hooker  Eccl:  Polity.,  Book  V.  c.  liii.  §4.  "A  kind  of  mu- 
tual commutation  there  is  whereby  those  concrete  names,  God  and 
man,  when  we  speak  of  Christ,  do  take  interchangeably  one  an- 
other's room,  so  that  for  truth  of  speech  it  skilleth  not  whether  we 
say  that  the  Son  of  God  hath  created  the  world,  and  the  Son  of 
man  by  His  death  hath  saved  it,  or  else  that  the  Son  of  man  did 
create,  and  the  Son  of  God  die  to  save  the  world.  Howbeit  as  oft 
as  we  attribute  to  God  what  the  manhood  of  Christ  claimeth,  or  to 
man  what  His  Deity  hath  right  unto,  we  understand  by  the  name  of 
God  and  the  name  of  man  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  nature,  but 
the  whole  person  of  Christ,  in  whom  both  natures  are."  The  tech- 
nical phrase  by  which  this  interchange  of  names  is  described  is  the 
Communicatio  idiomatum,  and  in  Greek  avri&ocn';.  Cf .  Pearson  on 
the  Creed,  Art.  IV.  c.  i. 

6  1  John  iv.  12. 


576 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


Himself  saying  of  Himself:  *  "This,"  says  He, 
"is  life  eternal,  that  they  may  know  Thee,  the 
only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  Thou 
hast  sent."  2  You  heard  above  that  the  Word 
of  God  was  sent  to  heal  mankind :  here  you 
are  told  that  He  who  Avas  sent  is  Jesus  Christ. 
Separate  this,  if  you  can,  —  though  you  see 
that  so  great  is  the  unity  of  Christ  and  the 
Word,  that  it  was  not  merely  that  Christ  was 
united  with  the  Word,  but  that  in  virtue  of  the 
actual  unity  [of  Person]  Christ  may  even  be 
said  to  be  the  Word. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

That  there  is  in  Christ  but  one  Hypostasis  (i.e.,  Personal 
self). 

But  perhaps  you  think  it  a  trifle  to  make 
this  clear :  not  because  it  fails  in  clearness, 
but  because  the  obscurity  of  unbelief  always 
causes  obscurity  even  in  what  is  clear.  Hear 
then  how  the  Apostle  sums  up  in  a  few  words 
this  whole  mystery  of  the  Lord's  unity  [of 
Person].  "Our  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  he 
says,  "  by  whom  are  all  things." 3  O  good 
Jesus,  what  weight  there  is  in  Thy  words  ! 
For  Thine  they  are,  when  spoken  of  Thee  by 
Thine  own.  See  how  much  is  embraced  in 
the  few  words  of  this  saying  of  the  Apostle's. 
"One  Lord,"  says  he,  "Jesus  Christ,  by  whom 
are  all  things."  Did  he  make  use  of  any  cir- 
cumlocution in  order  to  proclaim  the  truth  of 
this  great  mystery  ? 4  or  did  he  make  a  long 
story  of  that  which  he  wanted  us  to  grasp  ? 
"Oar  one  Lord,"  he  says,  "Jesus  Christ,  by 
whom  are  all  things."  In  a  plain  and  short 
phrase  he  taught  the  secret  of  this  great  mys- 
tery, through  this  confidence  by  which  he 
realized  that  in  what  refers  to  God  his  state- 
ments had  no  need  of  lengthened  arguments, 
and  that  the  Divinity  added  faith  to  his  utter- 
ances. For  the  demonstration  of  facts  is 
enough  to  confirm  what  is  said,  whenever  the 
proof  rests  on  the  authority  of  the  speaker. 
There  is  then,  he  siys,  "one  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  by  whom  are  all  things."  Notice  how 
you  read  the  same  thing  of  the  Word  of  the 
Father,  which  you  read  of  Christ.  For  the 
gospel  tells  us  that  "  All  things  were  made 
by  Him,  and  without  Him  was  not  anything 
made."5  The  Apostle  says,  "  By  Christ  are  all 
things :  "  the  gospel  says,  "  By  the  Word  are 
all  things."  Do  these  sacred  utterances  con- 
tradict each  other  ?  Most  certainly  not.  But 
by  Christ,  by  whom  the  Apostle  said  that  all 


1  De  se  dicentem  (Petschenig)  :   Gazaens  reads  descendentem. 

2  S    John  xvii.  3.  *   Tanti  mysterii  sacramentum. 

3  1  Cor.  viii.  6.  6  S.  John  i.  3. 


things  were  created,  and  by  the  Word,  by 
whom  the  Evangelist  relates  that  all  thing's 
were  made,  we  are  meant  to  understand  one 
and  the  same  Person.  Hear,  I  tell  you,  what 
the  Word  of  God,  Himself  God,  has  said  of 
Himself.  "No  man,"  he  saith,  "  hath  ascended 
into  heaven,  save  He  who  came  down  from 
heaven,  even  the  Son  of  man,  who  is  in 
heaven."  6  And  again  He  says  :  "  If  ye  shall 
see  the  Son  of  man  ascending  where  He  was 
before."  7  He  said  that  the  Son  of  man  was 
in  heaven  :  He  asserted  that  the  Son  of  man 
had  come  down  from  heaven.  What  does  it 
mean  ?  Why  are  you  muttering  ?  Deny  it,  if 
you  can.  But  do  you  ask  the  reason  of  what 
is  said  ?  However  I  do  not  give  it  you.  God 
has  said  this.  God  has  spoken  this  to  me : 
His  Word  is  the  best  reason.  I  get  rid  of 
arguments  and  discussions.  The  Person  of  the 
Speaker  alone  is  enough  to  make  me  believe. 
I  may  not  debate  about  the  trustworthiness  of 
what  is  said,  nor  discuss  it.  Why  should  I 
question  whether  what  God  has  said  is  true, 
since  I  ought  not  to  doubt  that  what  Gcd  says 
is  true.  "  No  man,"  He  says,  "hath  ascended 
into  heaven,  save  He  who  came  down  frcm 
heaven,  even  the  Son  of  man,  who  is  in 
heaven."  Certainly  the  Word  of  the  Father 
was  ever  in  heaven  :  and  how  did  He  assert 
that  the  Son  of  man  was  ever  in  heaven  ?  You 
are  then  to  understand  that  He  showed  that 
He  who  was  ever  the  Son  of  God  was  also  the 
Son  of  man  :  when  He  asserted  that  He,  who 
had  but  recently  appeared  as  the  Sen  of  man, 
Avas  ever  in  heaven.  To  this  points  still  mere 
that  other  passage  in  Avhich  He  testifies  that 
the  same  Son  of  man  ;  viz.,  the  Word  of  Gcd 
Avho,  as  He  said,  came  down  from  heaven, 
even  at  the  time  when  He  was  speaking  on 
earth,  Avas  in  heaven.  For  "no  man,"  He 
said,  "hath  ascended  into  heaven,  save  HeAvhc 
came  doAvn  from  heaven,  e\Ten  the  Son  of  man 
who  is  in  heaven."  Who,  I  pray  you,  is  this 
Avho  is  speaking  ?  Assuredly  it  is  Christ. 
But  Avhere  Avas  He  at  the  moment  Avhen  He 
spoke  ?  Assuredly  on  earth.  And  how  can 
He  assert  that  He  came  doAvn  from  heaven 
when  He  Avas  born,  and  that  He  Avas  in  heaven 
when  He  was  speaking,  or  say  that  He  is  the 
same  Son  of  man,  when  certainly  no  one  but 
God  can  come  doAvn  from  heaven,  and  when 
He  speaks  on  earth,  and  certainly  cannot  be 
in  heaven  except  through  the  Infinite  nature 
of  God?  Consider  then  this  at  last,  and  note 
that  the  Son  of  man  is  the  same  Person  as  the 
Word  of  God:  for  He  is  the  Son  of  man  since 
He  is  truly  born  of  man,  and  the  Word  of 
God,  since   He  who  speaks  on  earth    abideth 


6  S.  John  iii.  13. 


S   John  vi.  63. 


BOOK    IV. 


577 


ever  in  heaven.  And  so  when  He  truly  terms 
Himself  the  Son  of  man,  it  refers  to  His 
human  birth,  while  the  fact  that  He  never 
departs  from  heaven,  refers  to  the  Infinite 
character  of  His  Divine  nature.  And  so  the 
Apostle's  teaching  is  admirably  in  accordance 
with  those  sacred  words :  ("  for  He  that  de- 
scended," says  He,  "  is  the  same  that  ascended 
also  above  all  heavens,  that  He  might  fill  all 
things,"  l)  when  He  says  that  He  that  de- 
scended is  the  same  that  ascended.  But  none 
can  descend  from  heaven  except  the  Word  of 
God  :  who  certainly  "  being  in  the  form  of  God, 
emptied  Himself,  taking  the  form  of  a  servant, 
being  made  in  the  likeness  of  men,  and  being 
found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  He  humbled  Him- 
self, and  became  obedient  unto  death,  even  the 
death  of  the  Cross."  2  Thus  the  Word  of  God 
descended  from  heaven  ;  but  the  Son  of  man 
ascended.  But  He  says  that  the  same  Person 
ascended  and  descended.  Thus  you  see  that 
the  Son  of  man  is  the  same  Person  as  the 
Word  of  God. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

He  returns  to  the  former  subject,  in  order  to  show  against  the 
Nestorians  that  those  things  are  said  of  the  man,  which  be- 
long to  the  Divine  nature  as  it  were  of  a  Person  of  Divine 
nature,  and  conversely  that  those  things  are  said  of  God, 
which  belong  to  the  human  nature  as  it  were  of  a  Person  of 
human  nature,  because  there  is  in  Christ  but  one  and  a 
single  Personal  self. 

And  so  following  the  guidance  of  the  sacred 
word  we  may  now  say  fearlessly  and  unhesi- 
tatingly that  the  Son  of  man  came  down  from 
heaven,  and  that  the  Lord  of  Glory  was  cruci- 
fied :  because  in  virtue  of  the  mystery  of  the 
Incarnation,  the  Son  of  God  became  Son  of 
man,  and  the  Lord  of  Glory  was  crucified  in 
(the  nature  of)  the  Son  of  man.3  What  more 
is  there  need  of  ?  It  would  take  too  long 
to  go  into  details:  for  time  would  fail  me, 
were  I  to  try  to  examine  and  explain  every- 
thing which  could  be  brought  to  bear  on  this 
subject.  For  one  who  wished  to  do  this 
would  have  to  study  and  read  the  whole  Bible. 
For  what  is  there  which  does  not  bear  on  this, 


1  Eph.  iv.  10.  2  Phil.  ii.  6-8. 

3  See  Hooker  as  above  (V.  liii.  4)  "When  the  Apostle  saith  of 
the  Jews  that  they  crucified  the  Lord  of  Glory,  and  when  the  Son 
of  man  being  on  earth  affirmeth  that  the  Son  of  man  was  in  heaven 
at  the  same  instant,  there  is  in  these  two  speeches  that  mutual  cir- 
culation before  mentioned.  In  the  one,  there  is  attributed  to  God 
or  the  Lord  of  Glory  death,  whereof  Divine  nature  is  not  capable  ; 
in  the  other  ubiquity  unto  man  which  human  nature  admitteth  not. 
Therefore  by  the  Lord  of  Glory  we  must  needs  understand  the 
whole  person  of  Christ,  who  being  Lord  of  Glory,  was  indeed 
crucified,  but  not  in  that  nature  for  which  he  is  termed  the  Lord  of 
Glory.  In  like  nfenner  by  the  Son  of  man  the  whole  person  of 
Christ  must  necessarily  be  meant,  who  being  man  upon  earth,  filled 
heaven  with  his  glorious  presence,  but  not  according  to  that  nature 
for  which  the  title  of  man  is  given  Him." 


when  all  Scripture  was  written  with  reference 
to  this  ?  We  must  then  say  —  as  far  as  can  be 
said  —  some  things  briefly  and  cursorily,  and 
enumerate  rather  than  explain  them,  and  sac- 
rifice some  to  save  the  rest,  as  for  this  reason 
it  would  certainly  be  well  hurriedly  to  run 
through  some  points,  lest  one  should  be 
obliged 4  to  pass  over  almost  everything  in 
silence.  The  Saviour  then  in  the  gospel  says 
that  "  the  Son  of  man  is  come  to  save  what 
was  lost."  5  And  the  Apostle  says  :  "  This  is 
a  faithful  saying  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation  ; 
that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save 
sinners,  of  whom  I  am  chief."  °  But  the  Evan- 
gelist John  also  says  :  "  He  came  unto  his  own, 
and  His  own  received  Him  not."  7  You  see 
then  that  Scripture  says  in  one  place  that  the 
Son  of  man,  in  another  Jesus  Christ,  in  an- 
other the  Word  of  God  came  into  the  world. 
And  so  we  must  hold  that  the  difference  is 
one  of  title  not  of  fact,  and  that  under  the 
appearance  of  different  names  there  is  but  one 
Power  [or  Person].  For  though  at  one  time 
we  are  told  that  the  Son  of  man,  and  at  an- 
other that  the  Son  of  God  came  into  the 
world,  but  one  Person  is  meant  under  both 
names. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


How  this  interchange   of  titles  does  not  interfere  with    His 
Divine  power. 


For  certainly  when  the  evangelist  says  that 
He  came  into  the  world  by  whom  the  world 
itself  was  made,  and  that  He  was  made  the  Son 
of  man,  who  is  as  God  the  creator  of  the 
world,  it  makes  no  difference  what  particular 
title  is  used,  as  God  in  all  cases  is  meant. 
For  His  condescension  and  will  do  not  inter- 
fere with  His  Divinity,  since  they  the  rather 
prove  His  Divinity,  because  whatever  He 
willed  came  to  pass.  Therefore  also  because 
He  willed  it,  He  came  into  the  world  ;  and 
because  He  willed  it,  He  was  born  a  man  ; 
and  because  He  willed  it,  He  was  termed  the 
Son  of  man.  For  just  as  there  are  so  many 
words,  so  are  they  powers  belonging  to  God. 
The  variety  of  names  in  Him  does  not  take 
anything  away  from  the  efficacy  of  His  power. 
Whatever  may  be  the  names  given  Him,  in  all 
cases  it  is  one  and  the  same  Person.  Though 
there  may  be  some  variety  in  the  appearance 
of  His  titles,  yet  there  is  but  a  single  Divine 
Person  (Majestas)  meant  by  all  the  names. 


4  Ne  necesse  sit  (Petschenig). 

5  S.  Luke  xix.  10. 


6  1  Tim.  i.  15. 

7  S.  John  i.  11. 


578 


THE   SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

He  corroborates  this  statement  by  the  authority  of  the  old 
prophets. 

But  since  up  to  this  point  we  have  made 
use  more  particularly  of  the  witness,  compara- 
tively new,  of  evangelists  and  apostles,  now 
let  us  bring  forward  the  testimony  of  the  old 
prophets,  intermingling  at  times  new  things 
with  old,  that  everybody  may  see  that  the  holy 
Scriptures  proclaim  as  it  were  with  one  mouth 
that  Christ  was  to  come  in  the  flesh,  with  a 
body  of  His  own  complete.  And  so  that  far- 
famed  and  renowned  prophet  as  richly  en- 
dowed with  God's  gifts  as  with  his  testimony, 
to  whom  alone  it  was  given  to  be  sanctified 
before  His  birth,1  Jeremiah,  says,  "This  is 
our  Lord,  and  there  shall  no  other  be  ac- 
counted of  in  comparison  with  Him.  He 
found  out  all  the  way  of  knowledge  and  gave 
it  to  Jacob  His  servant  and  Israel  His  be- 
loved. Afterwards  He  was  seen  upon  earth 
and  conversed  with  men."  2  "  This  is,"  then, 
he  says,  "  our  God."  You  see  how  the 
prophet  points  to  God  as  it  were  with  his 
hand,  and  indicates  Him  as  it  were  with  his 
finger.  "This  is,"  he  says,  "  our  God."  Tell 
me  then,  who  was  it  that  the  prophet  showed 
by  these  signs  and  tokens  to  be  God  ?  Surely 
it  was  not  the  Father  ?  For  what  need  was 
there  that  He  should  be  pointed  out,  whom 
all  believed  that  they  knew  ?  For  even  then 
the  Jews  were  not  ignorant  of  God,  for  they 
were  living  under  God's  law.  But  he  was 
clearly  aiming  at  this,  that  they  might  come  to 
know  the  Son  of  God  as  God.  And  so  excel- 
lently did  the  Prophet  say  that  He  who  had 
found  out  all  knowledge,  i.e.,  had  given  the 
law,  was  to  be  seen  upon  earth,  i.e.,  was  to 
come  in  the  flesh,  in  order  that,  as  the  Jews 
did  not  doubt  that  He  who  had  given  the  law 
was-  God,  they  might  recognize  that  He  who 
was  to  come  in  the  flesh  was  God,  ^specially 
since  they  heard  that  He,  in  whom  they  be- 
lieved as  God  the  giver  of  the  law,  was  to  be 
seen  among  men  by  taking  upon  Him  man- 
hood, as  He  Himself  promises  His  own  advent 
by  the  prophet :  "  For  I  myself  that  spoke, 
behold  I  am  here."  3  "  There  shall  then," 
says  the  Scriptures,  "  be  no  other  accounted  of 


i  Cf.  Jer.  i.  5. 

2  The  passage  comes  not  from  Jeremiah,  but  from  Baruch  (iii.  36- 
38).  It  is  also  quoted  as  from  Jeremiah  by  Augustine  (c.  Faustin. 
xii.  c.  43) :  and  in  the  LXX.  version  the  book  of  Baruch  is  placed 
among  the  works  of  Jeremiah,  e.g.,  In  both  the  Vatican  and  Alex- 
andrine MSS.  they  stand  in  the  following  order:  (1)  Jeremiah,  (2) 
Baruch,  (3)  Lamentations,  (4)  the  Epistle  of  Jeremy  (Baruch  c.vi.  in 
A. V.).  The  passage  which  Cassiau  here  quotes  is  constantly  ap- 
pealed to  by  both  Greek  and  Latin  Fathers,  as  a  prophecy  of  the 
Incarnation.  See  e.g.  S.  Augustine  (I.e.)  S.  Chrysost.  "  Ecloga" 
Horn,  xxxiv.      Rufinus  in.  Symb.  §  5. 

3  Isa.  Iii.  6. 


in  comparison  of  Him."  Beautifully  does  the 
prophet  here  foresee  false  teaching,  and  so  ex- 
clude the  interpretations  of  heretical  perverse- 
ness.  "  There  shall  no  other  be  accounted  of 
in  comparison  of  Him."  For  He  is  alone  be- 
gotten to  be  God  of  God :  at  whose  bidding 
the  completion  of  the  universe  followed  :  whose 
will  is  the  beginning  of  things :  whose  empire 
is  the  fabric  of  the  world  :  who  spake  all  things, 
and  they  came  to  pass  :  commanded  all  things, 
and  they  were  created.  He  then  alone  it  is 
who  spake  to  the  patriarchs,  dwelt  in  the 
prophets,  was  conceived  by  the  Spirit,  born  of 
the  Virgin  Mary,  appeared  in  the  world,  lived 
among  men,  fastened  to  the  wood  of  the  cross 
the  handwriting  of  our  offences,  triumphed  in 
Himself,4  slew  by  His  death  the  powers  that 
were  at  enmity  and  hostile  to  us  ;  and  gave  to 
all  men  belief  in  the  resurrection,  and  by  the 
glory  of  His  body  put  an  end  to  the  corruption 
of  man's  flesh.  You  see  then  that  all  these 
belong  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  alone :  and 
therefore  no  other  shall  be  accounted  of  in 
comparison  with  Him,  for  He  alone  is  God  be- 
gotten of  God  in  this  glory  and  unique  bless- 
edness. This  then  is  what  the  prophet's 
teaching  was  aiming  at ;  viz.,  that  He  might 
be  known  by  all  men  to  be  the  only  begotten 
Son  of  God  the  Father,  and  that  when  they 
heard  that  no  other  was  accounted  of  as  God 
in  comparison  with  the  Son,  they  might  con- 
fess that  there  was  but  one  God  in  the  Persons 
of  the  Father  and  the  Son.  "  After  this,"  he 
said,  "  He  was  seen  upon  earth  and  conversed 
with  men."  You  see  how  plainly  this  points 
to  the  advent  and  nativity  of  the  Lord.  For 
surely  the  Father  —  of  whom  we  read  that  He 
can  only  be  seen  in  the  Son  —  was  not  seen 
upon  earth,  nor  born  in  the  flesh,  nor  con- 
versed with  men  ?  Most  certainly  not.  You 
see  then  that  all  this  is  spoken  of  the  Son  of 
God.  For  since  the  prophet  said  that  God 
should  be  seen  upon  earth,  and  no  other  but 
the  Son  was  seen  upon  earth,  it  is  clear  that 
the  prophet  said  this  only  of  Him,  of  whom 
facts  afterwards  proved  that  it  was  spoken. 
For  when  He  said  that  God  should  be  seen, 
He  could  not  say  this  truly,  except  of  Him 
who  was  indeed  afterwards  seen.  But  enough 
of  this.  Now  let  us  turn  to  another  point. 
"The  labour  of  Egypt,"  says  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  "  and  the  merchandise  of  Ethiopia  and 
of  the  Sabasans,  men  of  stature,  shall  come 
over  to  thee  and  shall  be  thy  servants.  They 
shall  walk  after  thee,  bound  with  manacles, 
and  they  shall  worship  thee,  and  they  shall 
make  supplication  to  thee :  for  in  thee  is  God, 
and  there  is  no  God  beside  thee.     For  thou 


4  Cf.  Col.  ii.  14,  15. 


BOOK    IV. 


579 


art  our  God  and  we  knew  thee  not,  O  God  of 
Israel  the  Saviour."  1  How  wonderfully  con- 
sistent the  Holy  Scriptures  always  are  !  For 
the  first  mentioned  prophet  said,  "  This  is  our 
God,"  and  this  one  says,  "  Thou  art  our  God." 
In  the  one  there  is  the  teaching  of  Divinity,  in 
the  other  the  confession  of  men.  The  one 
exhibits  the  character  of  the  Master  teaching, 
the  other  that  of  the  people  confessing.  For 
consider  now  the  prophet  Jeremiah  daily  teach- 
ing, as  he  does,  in  the  church,  and  saying  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  "This  is  our  God," 
what  else  could  the  whole  Church  reply,  as  it 
does,  than  what  the  other  prophet  said  to  the 
Lord  Jesus,  "Thou  art  our  God."  So  that 
full  well  could  the  mention  of  their  past  igno- 
rance be  joined  to  their  present  acknowledg- 
ment, in  the  words  of  the  people  :  "  Thou  art 
our  God,  and  we  knew  thee  not."  For  well 
can  these  who,  in  times  past  being  taken  up 
with  the  superstitions  of  devils  did  not  know 
God,  yet  when  now  converted  to  the  faith  say, 
"  Thou  art  our  God,  and  we  knew  thee  not." 


CHAPTER   X. 

He  proves  Christ's  Divinity  from  the  blasphemy  of  Judaizing 
Jews  as  well  as  from  the  confession  of  converts  to  the  faith 
of  Christ. 

But  if  you  would  like  to  have  this  proved 
to  you  rather  from  representatives  of  the  Jews, 
consider  the  Jewish  people  when  after  their 
unhappy  ignorance  and  wicked  persecution 
they  were  converted,  and  acknowledged  God 
here  and  there,  and  see  whether  they  could 
not  rightly  say,  "  Thou  art  our  God,  and  we 
knew  Thee  not."  But  I  will  add  something 
else,  to  prove  it  to  you  not  only  from  those 
Jews  who  confess  Him,  but  also  from  those 
who  deny  Him.  For  ask  those  Jews  who  still 
continue  in  their  state  of  unbelief  whether 
they  know  or  believe  in  God.  They  will  cer- 
tainly confess  that  they  both  know  and  believe 
in  Flim.  But  on  the  other  hand  ask  them 
whether  they  believe  in  the  Son  of  God.  They 
will  at  once  deny  and  begin  to  blaspheme 
against  Him.  You  see  then  that  the  Prophet 
said  this  of  Him  of  whom  the  Jews  have 
always  been  ignorant,  and  whom  now  they 
know  not ;  and  not  of  Him  whom  they  imagine 
that  they  believe  in  and  confess.  And  so  full 
well  can  those,  who  after  having  been  in  igno- 
rance come  out  of  Judaism  to  the  faith,  say, 
"Thou  art  our  God,  and  we  knew  Thee  not." 
For  rightly  do  those,  who  after  having  been 
ignorant  come  to  believe,  say  that  they  knew 
not  Him  in  whom  up  to  this  time  they  have 
not   believed,   and   whom   they   strive   not   to 


1  Isa.  xiv.  14,  15. 


know.  For  it  is  clear  that  those  who  after 
their  previous  ignorance  come  to  confess  Him, 
say  that  formerly  they  knew  Him  not,  whom 
up  to  this  time  they  have  ignorantly  denied. 

CHAPTER   XL 

He  returns  to  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah. 

"The  labour,"  says  he,  "of  Egypt,  and  the 
merchandize  of  Ethiopia,  and  the  Sabaeans, 
men  of  stature  shall  come  over  to  thee."  No 
one  can  doubt  that  in  these  names  of  different 
nations  is  signified  the  coming  of  the  nations 
who  were  to  believe.  But  you  cannot  deny 
that  the  nations  have  come  over  to  Christ,  for 
since  the  name  of  Christianity  has  arisen,  they 
have  come  over  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  not 
only  in  faith  but  actually  in  name.  For  since 
they  are  called  what  they  really  are,  that  which 
was  the  work  of  faith  becomes  the  token  by 
which  they  are  named.  "  They  shall,"  he  says, 
"come  over  to  thee  and  shall  be  thine:  they 
shall  walk  after  thee  bound  with  manacles." 
As  there  are  chains  of  coercion,  so  too  there 
are  chains  of  love,  as  the  Lord  says  :  "  I  drew 
them  with  chains  of  love."  2  For  indeed  great 
are  these  chains,  and  chains  of  ineffable  love, 
for  those  who  are  bound  with  them  rejoice  in 
their  fetters.  Do  you  want  to  know  whether 
this  is  true  ?  Hear  how  the  Apostle  Paul 
exults  and  rejoices  in  his  chains,  when  he 
says  :  "  I  therefore  a  prisoner  in  the  Lord  be- 
seech you."3  And  again:  "I  beseech  thee, 
whereas  thou  art  such  an  one  as  Paul  the  aged, 
and  now  a  prisoner  also  of  Jesus  Christ." 4 
You  see  how  he  rejoiced  in  the  dignity  of  his 
chains,  by  the  example  of  which  he  actually 
stirred  up  others.  But  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  where  there  is  single-minded  love  of  the 
Lord,  there  is  also  single-minded  delight  in 
chains  worn  for  the  Lord's  sake  :  as  it  is  writ- 
ten: "  But  the  multitude  of  the  believers  was 
of  one  heart  and  one  soul."  5  "And  they 
shall  worship  thee,"  he  says,  "  and  shall  make 
supplication  to  thee  :  for  in  thee  is  God,  and 
there  is  no  God  beside  thee."  The  Apostle 
clearly  explains  the  prophet's  words,  when  he 
says  that  "  God  was  in  Christ  reconciling  the 
world  to  Himself."  G  "  In  Thee  then,"  he  says, 
"  is  God  and  there  is  no  God  beside  thee." 
When  the  prophet  says  "  In  Thee  is  God," 
most  admirably  does  he  point  not  merely  to 
Him  who  was  visible,  but  to  Him  who  was  in 
what  was  visible,  distinguishing  the  indweller 
from  Him  in  whom  He  dwelt,  by  pointing  out 
the  two  natures,  not  by  denying  the  unity  (of 
Person). 


2  Hosea  xi.  4. 

3  Eph.  iv.  1. 


4  Philemon,  ver.  9. 

5  Acts  iv.  32. 


Cor.  v.  19. 


5  So 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

How  the  title  of  Saviour  is  given  to  Christ  in  one  sense,  and 
to  men  in  another. 

"  Thou,"  he  says,  "  art  our  God,  and  we 
knew  Thee  not,  O  God  of  Israel  the  Sav- 
iour." Although  holy  Scripture  has  already 
shown  by  many  and  clear  tokens,  who  is  here 
spoken  of,  yet  it  has  most  plainly  pointed  to 
the  name  of  Christ  by  using  the  name  of  Sav- 
iour: for  surely  the  Saviour  is  the  same  as 
Christ,  as  the  angel  says :  "  For  to  you  is 
born  this  day  a  Saviour  who  is  Christ  the 
Lord."  1  For  everybody  knows  that  in  Heb- 
rew "Jesus"  means  "Saviour,"  as  the  angel 
announced  to  the  holy  Virgin  Mary,  saying  : 
"  And  thou  shalt  call  His  name  Jesus,  for  He 
it  is  that  shall  save  His  people  from  their 
sins."  2  And  that  you  may  not  say  that  He  is 
termed  Saviour  in  the  same  sense  as  the  title 
is  given  to  others  ("And  the  Lord  raised  up  to 
them  a  Saviour,  Othniel  the  Son  of  Kenaz,"  3 
and  again,  "  the  Lord  raised  up  to  them  a 
Saviour,  Ehud  the  son  of  Gera  "  *),  he  added : 
"for  He  it  is  that  shall  save  His  people  from 
their  sins."  But  it  does  not  lie  in  the  power 
of  a  man  to  redeem  his  people  from  the  cap- 
tivity of  sin,  —  a  thing  which  is  only  possible 
for  Him  of  whom  it  is  said,  "Behold  the  Lamb 
of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the 
world."  5  For  the  others  saved  a  people  not 
their  own  but  God's,  and  not  from  their  sins, 
but  from  their  enemies. 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

He  explains  who   are  those  in   whose  person   the   Prophet 
Isaiah  says  :  "  Thou  art  our  God,  and  we  knew  Thee  not.'' 

"Thou  art  then,"  he  says,  "our  God,  and 
we  knew  Thee  not,  O  God  of  Israel  the  Sav- 
iour." Who  do  you  imagine  chiefly  say  this; 
and  in  whose  mouths  are  such  words  specially 
suitable,  Jews  or  Gentiles  ?  If  you  say  Jews  : 
certainly  the  Jews  did  not  know  Christ,  as  it 
is  said,  "  But  Israel  hath  not  known  Me,  My 
people  have  not  considered  ;  "  6  and,  "  The 
world  was  made  by  Him,  and  the  world  knew 
Him  not.     He  came  unto  His  own,  and  His 


own  received  Him  not."  7  But  if  you  say 
Gentiles,  it  is  clear  that  the  Gentile  world  was 
given  over  to  idols,  and  knew  not  Christ, 
though  it  knew  not  the  Father  any  more  ;  but 
still  if  it  has  now  come  to  know  Him,  it  is  only 
through  Christ.  You  see  then  that  whether 
the  believing  people  belong  to  the  Jews  or  the 
Gentiles,  in  either  case  they  can  truly  say  for 
themselves  :  "Thou  art  our  God,  and  we  knew 
Thee  not,  O  God  of  Israel  the  Saviour."  For 
the  Gentiles  who  formerly  worshipped  idols 
knew  not  God  ;  and  the  Jews  who  denied  the 
Lord,  knew  not  the  Son  of  God.  And  thus 
both  truly  say  of  Christ :  "  Thou  art  our  God 
and  we  knew  Thee  not."  For  those  who  did 
not  believe  in  God  were  as  ignorant  of  Him  as 
those  who  denied  the  Son  of  God.  If  there- 
fore Christ  is  to  be  believed  in,  as  the  truth 
declares,  as  the  Deity  asserts,  as  indeed  Christ 
Himself  declares,  who  is  both,  why  are  you 
miserably  trying  in  your  madness  to  interpose 
between  God  and  Christ  ?  Why  do  you  seek 
to  divide  His  body  from  the  Son  of  God,  and 
try  to  separate  God  from  Himself?  You  are 
severing  what  is  one,  and  dividing  what  is 
joined  together.  Believe  the  Word  of  God 
concerning  God  :  for  you  cannot  possibly  make 
a  better  confession  of  God"s  Divinity  than  by 
confessing  with  your  voice  that  which  God 
teaches  about  Himself.  For  you  must  know 
that,  as  the  Prophet  says,  "the  Lord  Himself 
is  God,  who  found  out  all  the  way  of  know- 
ledge ;  who  was  seen  upon  earth  and  conversed 
with  men."  8  He  brought  the  light  of  faith 
into  the  world.  He  showed  the  light  of  salva- 
tion. "  For  God  is  the  Lord,  and  hath  given 
us  light."  9  Then  believe  Him,  and  love  Him, 
and  confess  Him.  For  since,  as  it  is  written, 
"  Every  knee  shall  bow  to  Him,  of  things  in 
heaven,  and  things  on  earth,  and  things  under 
the  earth,  and  every  tongue  shall  confess  that 
Jesus  Christ  is  Lord  in  the  glory  of  God  the 
Father,"  10  whether  you  will  or  no,  you  cannot 
deny  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord  in  the  glory  of 
God  the  Father.  For  this  is  the  crowning 
virtue  of  a  perfect  confession,  to  acknowledge 
that  Jesus  Christ  is  ever  Lord  and  God  in  the 
glory  of  God  the  Father. 


BOOK   V. 


CHAPTER   I.  |  ism,  strives  and  contends  in  ever)'  way  to  make 

it  believed  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son 
of  God,  when  born  of  the  Virgin  was  only  a 
mere  man ;  and  that  having  afterwards  taken 
We  said  in  the  first  book  that  that  heresy   the  path  of  virtue   He   merited  by  His  holy 
which  copies  and  follows  the  lead  of  Pelagian-   and  pious  life  to  be  counted  worthy  for  this 


He  vehemently  inveighs  against  the  error  of  the  Pelagians 
who  declared  that  Christ  was  a  mere  man. 


1  S.  Luke  ii.  n. 

2  S.  Matt.  i.  2i. 


3  Judges  iii.  g. 
*  Ii.  ver.  15. 


5  S.  John  i.  29. 

6  Isa.  i.  3. 


7  S.  John  i.  11. 

8  Baruch  iii.  37,  38. 


9  Ps.  cxvii.  (cviii.)  27. 
10  Phil.  ii.  10,  11. 


BOOK   V. 


holiness  of  His  life  that  the  Divine  Majesty- 
should  unite  Itself  to  Him  :  and  thus  by  cut- 
ting off  altogether  from  Him  the  honour  of 
His  sacred  origin,  it  only  left  to  Him  the  selec- 
tion on  account  of  His  merits.1  And  their 
aim  and  endeavour  was  this ;  viz.,  that,  by 
bringing  Him  down  to  the  level  of  common 
men,  and  making  Him  one  of  the  common 
herd,  they  might  assert  that  all  men  could  by 
their  good  life  and  deeds  secure  whatever  He 
had  secured  by  His  good  life.2  A  most  dan- 
gerous and  deadly  assertion  indeed,  which  takes 
away  what  truly  belongs  to  God,  and  holds 
out  false  promises 'to  men;  and  which  should 
be  condemned  for  abominable  lies  on  both 
sides,  since  it  attacks  God  with  wicked  blas- 
phemy, and  gives  to  men  the  hope  of  a  false 
assurance.  A  most  perverse  and  wicked  asser- 
tion as  it  gives  to  men  what  does  not  belong  to 
them,  and  takes  away  from  God  what  is  His. 
And  so  of  this  dangerous  and  deadly  evil  this 
new  heresy  which  has  recently  sprung  up,3  is 
in  a  way  stirring  and  reviving  the  embers,  and 
raising  a  fresh  flame  from  its  ancient  ashes  : 
by  asserting  that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was 
born  a  mere  man.  And  so  why  is  there  any 
need  for  us  to  ask  whether  its  consequences 
are  dangerous,  as  in  its  fountain  head  it  is 
utterly  wrong.  It  is  unnecessary  to  examine 
what  it  is  like  in  its  issues,  as  in  its  commence- 
ment it  leaves  us  no  reason  for  examination. 
For  what  object  is  there  in  inquiring  whether 
like  the  earlier  heresy,  it  holds  out  the  same 
promises  to  man,  if  (which  is  the  most  awful 
sin)  it  takes  away  the  same  things  from  God  ? 
So  that  it  would  be  almost  wrong,  when  we  see 
what  it  begins  like,  to  ask  what  there  is  to  fol- 
low ;  as  if  some  possible  way  might  appear  in 
the  sequel,  in  which  a  man  who  denies  God, 
could  prove  that  he  was  not  irreligious.  The 
new  heresy  then,  as  we  have  already  many  times 
declared,  says  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was 
born  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  only  a  mere  man  :  and 
so  that  Mary  should  be  called  Christotocos 
not  Theotocos,  because  she  was  the  mother  of 
Christ,  not  of  God.  And  further  to  this  blas- 
phemous statement  it  adds  arguments  that  are 
as  wicked  as  they  are  foolish,  saying,  "  No  one 
ever  gave  birth  to  one  who  was  before  her." 

1  See  above  Book  I.  cc.  ii.  iii. 

2  See  below  Book  VI.  c.  xiv.  For  the  twofold  error  of  Pelagi- 
anism  cf.  a  striking  article  on  "  Theodore  of  Mopsuestia  and  Modern 
Thought "  in  the  Church  Quarterly  Review,  vol.  i.  See  esp.  p.  135  ; 
where,  speaking  of  Pelagianism,  the  writer  says:  "As  the  hypo- 
static union  was  denied,  lest  it  should  derogate  from  the  ethical 
completeness  of  Christ,  so  the  efficacious  working  of  grace  must  be 
explained  awav  lest  it  should  derogate  from  the  moral  dignity  of 
Christians.  The  divine  and  human  elements  must  be  kept  as  jea- 
lously apart  in  the  moral  life  of  the  members  as  in  the  person  of  the 
Head  ofthe  Church.  In  the  ultimate  analysis  it  must  be  proved 
that  the  initial  movement  in  every  good  action  came  from  the  human 
will  itself,  though  when  this  was  allowed,  the  grace  of  Clod  might 
receive,  by  an  exact  process  of  assessment,  its  due  share  of  credit 
for  the  result." 

3  Viz.,  Nestorianism. 


As  if  the  birth  of  the  only  begotten  of  God, 
predicted  by  prophets,  announced  since  the 
beginning  of  the  world,  could  be  dealt  with  or 
measured  by  human  reasons.  Or  did  the  Vir- 
gin Mary,  O  you  heretic,  whoever  you  are,  who 
slander  her  for  her  childbearing  —  bring  about 
and  consummate  that  which  came  to  pass,  by 
her  own  strength,  so  that  in  a  matter  and 
event  of  so  great  importance,  human  weak- 
ness can  be  brought  as  an  objection  ?  And 
so  if  there  was  anything  in  this  great  event 
which  was  the  work  of  man,  look  for  human 
arguments.  But  if  everything,  which  was  done, 
was  due  to  the  power  of  God,  why  should  you 
consider  what  is  impossible  with  men,  when 
you  see  that  it  is  the  work  of  Divine  power? 
But  of  this  more  anon.  Now  let  us  follow  up 
the  subject  we  began  to  treat  of  some  little 
way  back;  that  everybody  may  know  that  you 
are  trying  to  fan  the  flame  in  the  ashes  of 
Pelagianism,  and  to  revive  the  embers  by 
breathing  out  fresh  blasphemy. 


CHAPTER    II. 

That  the  doctrine  of  Nestorius  is  closely  connected  with  the 
error  of  the  Pelagians. 

You  say  then  that  Christ  was  born  a  mere 
man.  But  certainly  this  was  asserted  by  that 
wicked  heresy  of  Pelagius,  as  we  clearly 
showed  in  the  first  book ;  viz.,  that  Christ  was 
born  a  mere  man.  You  add  besides,  that 
Jesus  Christ  the  Lord  of  all  should  be  termed 
a  form  that  received  God  (Oeodv/a;).  i.e.,  not 
God,  but  the  receiver  of  God,  so  that  your  view 
is  that  He  is  to  be  honoured  not  for  His  own 
sake  because  He  is  God,  but  because  He  re- 
ceives God  into  Himself.  But  clearly  this  also 
was  asserted  by  that  heresy  of  which  I  spoke 
before  ;  viz.,  that  Christ  was  not  to  be  wor- 
shipped for  His  own  sake  because  He  was 
God,  but  because  owing  to  His  good  and  pious 
actions  He  won  this  ;  viz.,  to  have  God  dwell- 
ing in  Him.  You  see  then  that  you  are  belch- 
ing out  the  poison  of  Pelagianism,  and  hissing 
with  the  very  spirit  of  Pelagianism.  Whence 
it  comes  that  you  seem  rather  to  have  been 
already  judged,  than  to  have  now  to  undergo 
judgment,  for  since  your  error  is  one  and  the 
same,  you  must  be  believed  to  fall  under 
the  same  condemnation  :  not  to  mention  for  the 
present  that  you  compare  the  Lord  to  a  statue 
of  the  Emperor,  and  break  out  into  such 
wicked  and  blasphemous  impieties  that  you 
seem  in  this  madness  of  yours  to  surpass  even 
Pelagius  himself,  who  surpassed  almost  every 
one  else  in  impiety. 


5§2 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


CHAPTER   III. 

How  this  participation  in  Divinity  which  the  Pelagians  and 
Nestorians  attribute  to  Christ,  is  common  to  all  holy  men. 

You  say  then  that  Christ  should  be  termed 
a  form  which  received  God  (Qeod6%og),  i.e., 
that  He  should  be  revered  not  for  His  own  sake 
because  He  is  God,  but  because  He  received 
God  within  Him.  And  so  in  this  way  you 
make  out  that  there  is  no  difference  between 
Him  and  all  other  holy  men  :  for  all  holy  men 
have  certainly  had  God  within  them.  For  we 
know  well  that  God  was  in  the  patriarchs,  and 
that  He  spoke  in  the  prophets.  In  a  word  we 
believe  that,  I  do  not  say  apostles  and  martyrs, 
but,  all  the  saints  and  servants  of  God  have 
within  them  the  Spirit  of  God,  according  to 
this :  "  Ye  are  the  temple  of  the  living  God  : 
as  God  said,  For  I  will  dwell  in  them."  1  And 
again:  "Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temple 
of  God,  and  the  Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in 
you  ?  "  2  And  thus  we  are  all  receivers  of  God 
(QeoSoxot)  ;  and  in  this  way  you  say  that  all 
the  saints  are  only  like  Christ,  and  equal  to 
God.  But  away  with  such  a  wicked  and 
abominable  heresy  as  that  the  Creator  should 
be  compared  to  His  creatures,  the  Lord  to 
His  servants,  the  God  of  things  earthly  and 
heavenly,  to  earthly  frailty  :  and  out  of  His 
very  kindnesses  this  wrong  be  done  to  Him  ; 
viz.,  that  He  who  honours  man  by  dwelling  in 
him  should  therefore  be  said  to  be  only  the 
same  as  man. 

CHAPTER    IV. 

What  the  difference  is  between  Christ  and  the  saints. 

Moreover  there  is  between  Him  and  all 
the  saints  the  same  difference  that  there  is 
between  a  dwelling  and  one  who  dwells  in  it, 
for  certainly  it  is  the  doing  of  the  dweller  not 
the  dwelling,  if  it  is  inhabited,  for  on  him 
it  depends  both  to  build  the  house  and  to 
occupy  it.  I  mean,  that  he  can  choose,  if  he 
will,  to  make  it  a  dwelling,  and  when  he  has 
made  it,  to  live  in  it.  "  Or  do  you  seek  a 
proof,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  of  Christ  speaking 
in  me  ?  " 3  And  elsewhere,  "  Know  ye  not 
that  Jesus  Christ  is  in  you  except  ye  be  repro- 
bate ?  "4  And  again  :  "in  the  inner  man,  that 
Christ  may  dwell  in  your  hearts  by  faith."  6 
Do  you  not  see  what  a  difference  there  is 
between  the  Apostle's  doctrine  and  your  blas- 
phemies ?  You  say  that  God  dwells  in  Christ 
as  in  a  man.  He  testifies  that  Christ  Himself 
dwells  in  men  :  which  certainly,  as  you  admit, 


flesh  and  blood  cannot  do ;  so  that  He  is 
shown  to  be  God,  from  the  very  fact  from 
which  you  deny  Him  to  be  God.  For  since 
you  cannot  deny  that  He  who  dwells  in  man  is 
God,  it  follows  that  we  must  believe  that  He, 
whom  we  know  to  dwell  in  men,  is  most  de- 
cidedly God.  All,  then,  whether  patriarchs, 
or  prophets,  or  apostles,  or  martyrs,  or  saints, 
had  every  one  of  them  God  within  him,  and 
were  all  made  sons  of  God  and  were  all  re- 
ceivers of  God  (Oeodozoi),  but  in  a  very  differ- 
ent and  distinct  way.  For  all  who  believe  in 
God  are  sons  of  God  by  adoption :  but  the 
only  begotten  alone  is  Son  by  nature  :  who  was 
begotten  of  His  Father,  not  of  any  material 
substance,  for  all  things,  and  the  substance  of 
all  things  exist  through  the  only  begotten  Son 
of  God — and  not  out  of  nothing,  because  He 
is  from  the  Father  :  not  like  a  birth,  for  there 
is  nothing  in  God  that  is  void  or  mutable,  but 
in  an  ineffable  and  incomprehensible  manner 
God  the  Father,  wherein  He  Himself  was 
ingenerate,  begat  his  only  begotten  Son  ;  and 
so  from  the  Most  High,  Ingenerate,  and  Eter- 
nal Father  proceeds  the  Most  High,  Only 
Begotten,  and  Eternal  Son.  Who  must  be 
considered  the  same  Person  in  the  flesh  as  He 
is  in  the  Spirit :  and  must  be  held  to  be  the 
same  Person  in  the  body  as  He  is  in  glory,  for 
when  He  was  about  to  be  born  in  the  flesh,6 
He  made  no  division  or  separation  within 
Himself,  as  if  some  portion  of  Him  was  born 
while  another  portion  was  not  born  :  or  as  if 
some  portion  of  Divinity  afterwards  came  upon 
Him,  which  had  not  been  in  Him  at  His  birth 
from  the  Virgin.  For  according  to  the  Apostle, 
"  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  dwelleth  in 
Christ  bodily."  7  Not  that  It  dwells  in  Hini  at 
times,  and  at  times  dwells  not ;  nor  that  It  was 
there  at  a  later  date,  and  not  an  earlier  one  : 
otherwise  we  are  entangled  in  that  impious 
heresy  of  Pelagius,  so  as  to  say  that  from  a 
fixed  moment  God  dwelt  in  Christ,  and  that 
He  then  came  upon  Him  ;  when  He  had  won 
by  His  life  and  conversation  this  ;  viz.,  that 
the.  power  of  the  Godhead  should  dwell  in 
Him.  These  things  then  belong  to  men,  to 
men,  I  say,  not  to  God,  —  that  as  far  as  human 
weakness  can,  they  should  humble  themselves 
to  God,  be  subject  to  God,  make  themselves 
dwellings  for  God,  and  by  their  faith  and  piety 
win  this,  to  have  God  as  their  guest  and  in- 
dweller.  For  in  proportion  as  anyone  is  fit  for 
God's  gift,  so  does  the  Divine  grace  reward 
him  :  in  proportion  as  a  man  seems  worthy  of 


1  2  Cor.  vi.  16. 

2  I  Cor.  iii.  16. 


3  2  Cor.  xiii.  3. 

4  lb.  ver.  5. 


5  Eph.  iii.  16,  17. 


6  Idem  credendits  in  corfiore  qni  crediiur  in  majestate,  quia 
nascitnrns  in  came  non  divisionem,  etc.,  (Petschenig) :  Gazsus 
reads  Idem  credcndus  in  majestate  quia  nascitunts  in  came.  Non 
divisionem,  etc. 

7  Col.  ii.  9. 


BOOK   V. 


583 


God,  so  does  he  enjoy  God's  presence,  accord- 
ing to  the  Lord's  promise  :  "  If  any  man  love 
Me,  he  will  keep  My  word  ;  and  I  and  My 
Father  will  come  to  him  and  make  Our  abode 
with  Him."  x  But  very  different  is  the  case  as 
regards  Christ ;  in  whom  all  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  dwelleth  bodily  :  for  He  has  within 
Him  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  so  that  He 
gives  to  all  of  His  fulness,  and  He  —  as  the 
fulness  of  the  Godhead  dwells  in  Him  —  Him- 
self dwells  in  each  of  the  saints  in  proportion 
as  He  deems  them  worthy  of  His  Presence, 
and  gives  of  His  fulness  to  all,  yet  in  such  a 
way  that  He  Himself  continues  in  all  that  ful- 
ness, —  who  even  when  He  was  on  earth  in 
the  flesh,  yet  was  present  in  the  hearts  of  all 
the  saints,  and  filled  the  heaven,  the  earth,  the 
sea,  aye  and  the  whole  universe  with  His  in- 
finite power  and  majesty ;  and  yet  was  so 
complete  in  Himself  that  the  whole  world 
could  not  contain  Him.  For  however  great 
and  inexpressible  whatever  is  made  may  be,  yet 
there  are  no  things  so  boundless  and  'infinite 
as  to  be  able  to  contain  the  Creator  Himself. 


CHAPTER   V. 

That  before  His  birth  in  time  Christ  was  always  called  God  by 
the  prophets. 

He  it  is  then  of  whom  the  Prophet  says  : 
"  For  in  Thee  is  God,  and  there  is  no  God  be- 
side Thee.  For  Thou  art  our  God  and  we 
knew  Thee  not,  O  God  of  Israel  the  Saviour."  2 
Who  "  afterwards  appeared  on  earth  and  con- 
versed with  men."  3  Of  whom  and  in  whose 
Person  the  Prophet  David  also  speaks  :  "  From 
my  mother's  womb  Thou  art  my  God  :  "  4  show- 
ing clearly  that  He  who  was  Lord  and  man  5 
was  never  separate  from  God  :  in  whom  even 
in  the  Virgin's  womb  the  fulness  of  the  God- 
head dwelt.  As  elsewhere  the  same  Prophet 
says :    "  Truth    has    sprung    from    the    earth 


1  S.  John  xiv.  23.  3  Baruch  iii.  37. 

2  Isa.  xlv.  14,  15.  4  Ps.  xxi.  (xxii.)  11. 

5  Dominicus  Homo,  literally  "  the  Lordly  man."  The  same 
title  is  used  again  by  Cassian  in  Book  VI.  cc.  xxi.,  xxii.,  and  in  the 
Conferences  XI.  xiii.  It  is  however  an  instance  of  a  title  which  the 
mature  judgment  of  the  Church  has  rejected  as  savouring  of  an  here- 
tical interpretation.  We  learn  from  Gregory  Nazianzen  (Orat.  51) 
that  the  Greek  equivalent  of  the  title  6  Kupia/cb?  avtipunros,  was  a  fa- 
vourite term  with  the  Apollinarians,  as  it  might  be  taken  to  favour 
their  view  that  the  Divinity  supplied  the  place  of  a  human  soul  in 
Christ.  It  is  however  freely  used  by  Epiphanius  in  his  Anchoratus, 
and  is  also  found  in  the  exposition  of  faith  assigned  to  Alhanasius 
(Migne.  Pat.  (Irec.  xxv.  p.  197).  And  Augustine  himself  actually 
uses  the  tide  Dominicus  Homo  in  his  treatise  on  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  Book  II.  c.  vi.,  though  he  afterwards  retracted  the  term,  see 
"  Retract,"  Book  I.  c.  xx.  "  Non  video  utrum  recte  dicatur  Homo 
Dominicus,  qui  est  mediator  Dei  et  hominum,  homo  Christus  Jesus, 
cum  sit  utique  Domiuus :  Dominicus  antem  homoquis  in  ejussancta 
familia  non  potest  dici  ?  Et  hoc  quidem  ut  dicerem,  apud  quos- 
dam  legi  tractores  catholicos  divinorum  eloqniorum.  Sed  ubicunque 
hoc  dici,  dixisse  me  nollem.  Postea  quippe  vidi  non  esse  dicendum, 
quamvis  nonnulla  possit  ratione  defendi."  The  question  is  discussed 
by  S.  Thomas,  whether  the  title  is  rightlv  applied  to  Christ  and  de- 
cided by  him  in  the  negative.     Summa  III.  Q.  vi.  art.  3. 


and  righteousness  hath  looked  down  from 
heaven,"  6  that  we  may  know  that  when  the 
Son  of  God  looked  down  from  heaven  (i.e., 
came  and  descended),  righteousness  was  born 
of  the  flesh  of  the  Virgin,  no  phantasm  of  a 
body,  but  the  Truth :  for  He  is  the  Truth,  ac- 
cording to  His  own  witness  of  Truth  :  "  I  am 
the  Truth  and  the  life."  '  And  so  as  we  have 
proved  in  the  earlier  books  that  this  Truth ; 
viz.,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  was  God  when 
born  of  the  Virgin,  let  us  now  do  as  we  deter- 
mined to  do  in  the  book  before  this,  and  show 
that  He  who  was  to  be  born  of  the  Virgin,  was 
always  declared  to  be  God  beforehand.  And 
so  the  prophet  Isaiah  says,  "  Cease  ye  from 
the  man  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils,  for  it 
is  He  in  whom  he  is  reputed  to  be ;  "  or  as  it 
is  more  exactly  and  clearly  in  the  Hebrew : 
"for  he  is  reputed  high."8  But  by  saying 
"  cease  ye,"  a  term  which  deprecates  violence, 
he  admirably  denotes  the  disturbance  of  per- 
secution. "  Cease  ye,"  he  says,  "  from  the 
man  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils,  for  he  is 
reputed  high."  Does  he  not  in  one  and  the 
same  sentence  speak  of  the  taking  upon  Him 
of  the  manhood,  and  the  truth  of  His  God- 
head ?  "  Cease  ye,"  he  says,  "from  the  man 
whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils,  for  he  is  re- 
puted high."  Does  he  not,  I  ask  you,  seem 
plainly  to  address  the  Lord's  persecutors,  and 
to  say,  "  Cease  ye  from  the  man  "  whom  ye 
are  persecuting,  for  this  man  is  God :  and 
though  He  appears  in  the  lowliness  of  human 
flesh,  yet  He  still  continues  in  the  high  estate 
of  Divine  glory  ?  But  by  saying  "  Cease  ye 
from  the  man  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils," 
he  admirably  showed  His  manhood,  by  the 
clearest  tokens  of  a  human  body,  and  this  fear- 
lessly and  confidently,  as  one  who  would  as 
urgently  assert  the  truth  of  His  humanity  as 
that  of  His  Godhead,  for  this  is  the  true  and 
Catholic  faith,  to  believe  that  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  possessed  the  substance  of  a  true 
body  just  as  Lie  possessed  a  true  and  perfect 
Divinity.  Unless  possibly  you  think  that  any- 
thing can  be  made  out  of  the  fact  that  he  uses 
the  word  "  High  "  instead  of  '•  God  "  ;  whereas 
it  is  the  habit  of  holy  Scripture  to  put  "  High  " 
for  "God,"  as  where  the  prophet  says:  "the 
Most  High  uttered  His  voice  and  the  earth 
was  moved," 9  and  "  Thou  alone  art  Most  High 
over  all  the  earth." 10  Isaiah  too,  who  says 
this  :  "  The  High  and  lofty  one  who  inhabit- 
eth  eternity  "  :  u  where  we  are  clearly  to  under- 
stand that  as  he  there  puts  Most  High  without 
adding  the  name  of  God,  so  here  too  he  speaks 
of  God  by  the  name  of  Most  High.     So  then, 

"  Ps.  lxxxiv.  (Ixxxv.)  12.  7  S.  John  xiv.  6. 

8  Isa.  ii.  22.      Cf.  the  note  on  the  Institutes  xii.  xxxi. 

0  Ps.  xlv.  (xlvi.)  7.       10  Ps.  lxxxii.  (lxxxiii.)  19.      u  Isa.  Ivii.  15. 


5§4 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


since  the  Divine  word  spoken  by  the  prophet 
clearly  announced  beforehand  that  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  would  be  both  God  and  man,  let 
us  now  see  whether  the  New  Testament  corre- 
sponds to  and  harmonizes  with  the  testimony 
of  the  Old. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

He  illustrates  the  same  doctrine  by  passages  from  the  New 
Testament. 

"  That,"  says  the  Apostle  John,  "which  was 
from  the  beginning,  which  we  have  heard, 
which  we  have  seen  with  our  eyes,  which  we 
have  looked  upon,  and  our  hands  have  handled, 
of  the  word  of  the  life  :  for  the  life  was  mani- 
fested :  and  we  have  seen,  and  do  bear  wit- 
ness, and  declare  unto  you  the  life  eternal, 
which  was  with  the  Father,  and  hath  appeared 
unto  us."  J  You  see  how  the  old  testimonies 
are  confirmed  by  fresh  ones,  and  the  support 
of  the  new  preaching  is  given  to  the  ancient 
prophecy.  Isaiah  said:  "Cease  ye  from  the 
man  whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils  for  he  is 
reputed  high."  But  John  says  :  "  That  which 
was  from  the  beginning,  which  we  have  seen 
with  our  eyes,  which  we  have  looked  upon, 
and  our  hands  have  handled."  The  former 
said  that  as  man  He  would  be  persecuted  by 
the  Jews  :  the  latter  declared  that  as  man  He 
was  handled  by  men's  hands.  The  one  pre- 
dicted that  He  whom  he  announced  as  man, 
would  be  God  Most  High  :  the  other  asserts 
that  He  whom  he  showed  to  have  been  handled 
by  men,  was  ever  God  in  the  beginning.  It  is 
then  as  clear  as  possible  that  they  both  showed 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  be  both  God  and 
man ;  and  that  the  same  Person  was  after- 
wards man  who  had  always  been  God,  and 
thus  He  was  God  and  man,  because  God 
Himself  became  man.  That  then,  he  says, 
"  which  was  from  the  beginning,  which  we  have 
heard,  which  we  have  seen  with  our  eyes, 
which  we  have  looked  upon,  and  our  hands 
have  handled  of  the  word  of  life ;  and  the 
life  was  manifested,  and  we  have  seen,  and  do 
bear  witness,  and  declare  unto  you  the  life 
eternal  which  was  with  the  Father,  and  hath 
appeared  unto  us."  You  see  the  number  of 
proofs  and  ways,  very  different  and  numerous, 
in  which  that  Apostle  so  well  beloved  and  so 
devoted  to  God,  indicates  the  mystery  of  the 
Divine  Incarnation.  In  the  first  instance  he 
testifies  that  He,  who  ever  was  in  the  begin- 
ning, was  seen  in  the  flesh.  Lest  in  case  it 
might  not  seem  sufficient  for  unbelievers  that 
he  had  spoken  of  Him  as  seen  and  heard,  he 
supports  it  by  saying  that  He  was  handled, 

1  i  John  i.  i,  2. 


i.e.,  touched  and  felt  by  his  own  hands  and  by 
those  of  others.  Admirably  indeed  by  show- 
ing how  He  took  flesh,  does  he  shut  out  the 
view  of  the  Marcionites  and  the  error  of  the 
Manichees,  so  that  no  one  may  think  that  a 
phantom  appeared  to  men,  since  an  apostle 
has  declared  that  a  true  body  was  handled  by 
him.  Then  he  adds  "  the  word  of  life  :  and 
the  life  was  manifested,"  and  that  he  saw  it, 
announced  it,  and  proclaimed  it :  thus  at  the 
same  time  carrying  out  the  duties  of  the  faith 
and  striking  the  unbelievers  with  terror,  that 
while  he  declares  that  he  proclaims  Him,  he 
may  bring  home  the  danger  in  which  he  stands, 
to  the  man  who  will  not  listen.  "We  declare 
to  you,"  he  says,  "  the  life  eternal  which  was 
with  the  Father,  and  hath  appeared  to  us." 
He  teaches  that  that  which  was  ever  with  the 
Father  appeared  to  men  :  and  that  which  was 
ever  in  the  beginning,  was  seen  of  men  :  and 
that  which  was  the  Word  of  life  without  be- 
ginning, was  handled  by  men's  hands.  You 
see  the  number  and  variety,  the  particularity 
and  the  clearness  of  the  ways  in  which  he  un- 
folds the  mystery  of  the  flesh  joined  to  God, 
in  such  a  way  that  no  one  could  speak  at  all 
of  either  without  acknowledging  both.  As  the 
Apostle  himself  clearly  says  elsewhere  :  "  For 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  same  yesterday,  and  to-day, 
and  for  ever."  "  This  is  what  he  said  in  the 
passage  given  above:  "That  which  was  from 
the  beginning,  our  hands  have  handled."  Not 
that  a  spirit  can  in  its  own  nature  be  handled  : 
but  that  the  Word  made  flesh  was  in  a  sense 
handled  in  the  manhood  with  which  it  was 
joined.  And  so  Jesus  is  "the  same  yesterday 
and  to-day  "  :  i.e.,  the  same  Person  before  the 
commencement  of  the  world,  as  in  the  flesh ; 
the  same  in  the  past  as  in  the  present,  the 
same  also  for  ever,  for  He  is  the  same  through 
all  the  ages,  as  before  all  the  ages.  And  all 
this  is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

He  shows  again  from  the  union  in  Christ  of  two  natures  in  one 
Person  that  what  belongs  to  the  Divine  nature  may  rightly 
be  ascribed  to  man,  and  what  belongs  to  the  human  nature 
to  God. 

And  how  was  it  the  same  Person  before  the 
origin  of  the  world,  who  was  but  recently  born  ? 
Because  it  was  the  same  Person,  who  was  re- 
cently born  in  human  nature,  who  was  God  be- 
fore the  rise  of  all  things.  And  so  the  name 
of  Christ  includes  everything  that  the  name  of 
God  does ;  for  so  close  is  the  union  between 
Christ  and  God  that  no  one,  when  he  uses  the 
name  of  Christ  can  help  speaking  of  God  un- 

=  Heb.  xiii.  8. 


BOOK   V. 


535 


der  the  name  of  Christ,  nor,  when  he  speaks 
of  God,  can  he  help  speaking  of  Christ  under 
the  name  of  God.  And  as  through  the  glory 
of  His  holy  nativity  the  mystery  of  each  sub- 
stance is  joined  together  in  Him,  whatever 
was  in  existence  —  I  mean  both  human  and 
Divine  —  all  is  regarded  as  God.  And  hence 
the  Apostle  Paul  seeing  with  unveiled  eyes  of 
faith  the  whole  mystery  of  the  ineffable  glory  in 
Christ,  spoke  as  follows,  in  inviting  the  peoples 
who  were  ignorant  of  God's  goodness  to  give 
thanksgiving  to  God:  "Giving  thanks  to  the 
Father,  who  hath  made  us  worthy  to  be  par- 
takers of  the  lot  of  the  saints  in  light,  who 
hath  delivered  us  from  the  power  of  darkness, 
and  hath  translated  us  into  the  kingdom  of  the 
Son  of  His  love,  in  whom  we  have  redemption 
through  His  blood,  the  remission  of  sins  ;  who 
is  the  image  of  the  invisible  God,  the  first-born 
of  every  creature  :  for  in  Him  were  all  things 
created  in  heaven  and  on  earth,  visible  and 
invisible,  whether  thrones  or  dominations,  or 
powers :  all  things  were  created  by  Him  and 
in  Him.  And  He  is  before  all,  and  by  Him 
all  things  consist.  And  He  is  the  head  of  the 
body  the  Church,  who  is  the  beginning,  the 
first-born  from  the  dead ;  that  in  all  things  He 
may  hold  the  primacy.  Because  it  pleased 
the  Father  that  in  Him  should  all  fulness 
dwell ;  and  through  Him  to  reconcile  all  things 
unto  Himself,  making  peace  through  the  blood 
of  His  cross,  both  as  to  the  things  on  earth, 
and  the  things  that  are  in  heaven."  x  Surely 
this  does  not  need  the  aid  of  any  further  ex- 
planation, as  it  is  so  fully  and  clearly  expressed 
that  in  itself  it  contains  not  merely  the  sub- 
stance of  the  faith,  but  a  clear  exposition  of  it. 
For  he  bids  us  give  thanks  to  the  Father:  and 
adds  a  weighty  reason  for  thus  giving  thanks ; 
viz.,  because  He  hath  made  us  worthy  to  be 
partakers  with  the  saints,  and  hath  delivered  us 
from  the  power  of  darkness,  hath  translated  us 
unto  the  kingdom  of  the  Son  of  His  love,  in 
whom  we  have  redemption  and  remission  of 
sins  :  who  is  the  image  of  the  invisible  God, 
the  first-born  of  every  creature  ;  for  in  Him 
and  through  Him  were  all  things  created  ;  of 
which  He  is  both  the  Creator  and  the  ruler  : 
and  what  follows  after  this  ?  "  He  is,"  he 
says,  "  the  head  of  the  body  the  Church  :  who 
is  the  beginning,  the  first-born  from  the  dead." 
Scripture  speaks  of  the  resurrection  as  a  birth  : 
because  as  birth  is  the  beginning  of  life,  so 
resurrection  gives  birth  unto  life.  Whence 
also  the  resurrection  is  actually  spoken  of  as 
regeneration,  according  to  the  words  of  the 
Lord  :  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  ye  which 
have  followed  me,  in  the    regeneration    when 


the  Son  of  man  shall  sit  on  the  throne  of  His 
glory,  ye  also  shall  sit  upon  twelve  thrones, 
judging  the  twelve  tribes  of  Israel."  2  There- 
fore he  calls  Him  the  first-born  from  the  dead, 
whom  he  had  previously  declared  to  be  the 
invisible  Son  and  image  of  God.  But  who  is 
the  image  of  the  invisible  God,  except  the  only- 
begotten,  the  Word  of  God  ?  And  how  can 
we  say  that  He  rose  from  the  dead,  who  is 
termed  the  image  and  word  of  the  invisible 
God  ?  And  what  is  it  that  follows  afterwards  ? 
"  That  in  all  things  He  may  hold  the  primacy : 
for  it  pleased  the  Father  that  in  Him  should 
all  fulness  dwell,  and  by  Him  to  reconcile  all 
things  to  Himself,  making  peace  through  the 
blood  of  His  cross,  both  as  to  things  on  earth 
and  the  things  that  are  in  heaven."  Surely 
the  Creator  of  all  things  has  no  need  of  the 
primacy  in  all  things  ?  Nor  He  who  made 
them,  of  the  primacy  of  those  things  which 
were  made  by  Him  ?  And  how  can  we  say  of 
the  Word,  that  it  pleased  God  that  all  fulness 
should  dwell  in  Him  who  was  the  first-born 
from  the  dead,  when  He  was  Himself  the 
only-begotten  Son  of  God  and  the  Word  of 
God,  before  the  origin  of  all  things,  and  had 
within  Him  the  invisible  Father,  and  so  first 
had  within  Him  all  fulness,  that  He  might 
Himself  be  the  fulness  of  all  things  ?  And 
what  next  ?  "  Bringing  all  things  to  peace 
through  the  blood  of  His  cross,  both  things 
on  earth,  and  the  things  which  are  in  heaven." 
Certainly  he  has  made  it  as  clear  as  possible 
of  whom  he  was  speaking,  when  he  called  Him 
the  first-born  from  the  dead.  For  are  all  things 
reconciled  and  brought  into  peace  through  the 
blood  of  the  Word  or  Spirit  ?  Most  certainly 
not.  For  no  sort  of  passion  can  happen  to 
nature  that  is  impassible,  nor  can  the  blood 
of  any  but  a  man  be  shed,  nor  any  but  a  man 
die  :  and  yet  the  same  Person  who  is  spoken 
of  in  the  following  verses  as  dead,  was  above 
called  the  image  of  the  invisible  God.  How 
then  can  this  be  ?  Because  the  apostles  took 
every  possible  precaution  that  it  might  not  be 
thought  that  there  was  any  division  in  Christ, 
or  that  the  Son  of  God  being  joined  to  a  Son 
of  man,  might  come  by  wild  interpretations  to  be 
made  into  two  Persons,  and  thus  He  who  is  in 
Himself  but  one  might  by  wrongful  and  wicked 
notions  of  ours,  be  made  into  a  double  Person 
in  one  nature.  And  so  most  excellently  and 
admirably  does  the  apostle's  preaching  pass 
from  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  to  the  Son 
of  man  united  to  the  Son  of  God,  that  the  ex- 
position of  the  doctrine  might  follow  the  actual 
course  of  the  things  that  happened.  And  so 
he  continues  with  an  unbroken  connexion,  and 


1  Col.  i.  12-20. 


S.  Matt.  xix.  2S. 


586 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


makes  as  it  were  a  sort  of  bridge,  that  without 
any  gap  or  separation  you  might  find  at  the 
end  of  time  Him  whom  we  read  of  as  in  the 
beginning  of  the  world ;  and  that  you  might 
not  by  admitting  some  division  and  erroneous 
separation  imagine  that  the  Son  of  God  was 
one  person  in  the  flesh  and  another  in  the 
Spirit ;  when  the  teaching  of  the  apostle  had 
so  linked  together  God  and  man  through  the 
mystery  of  His  birth  in  the  body,  so  as  to  show 
that  it  was  the  same  Person  reconciling  to 
Himself  all  things  on  the  Cross,  who  had  been 
proclaimed  the  image  of  the  invisible  God 
before  the  foundation  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

He  confirms  the  judgment  of  the  Apostle  by  the  authority  of 
the  Lord. 

And  though  this  is  the  saying  of  an  Apos- 
tle, yet  it  is  the  very  doctrine  of  the  Lord. 
For  the  same  Person  says  this  to  Christians 
by  His  Apostle,  who  had  Himself  said  some- 
thing very  like  it  to  Jews  in  the  gospel,  when 
He  said:  "  But  now  ye  seek  to  kill  me,  a  man, 
who  have  spoken  the  truth  to  you,  which  I 
heard  of  God :  for  I  am  not  come  of  Myself, 
but  He  sent  me."  *  He  clearly  shows  that 
He  is  both  God  and  man:  man,  in  that  He 
says  thaf  He  is  a  man :  God,  in  that  He 
affirms  that  He  was  sent.  For  He  must  have 
been  with  Him  from  whom  He  came  :  and 
He  came  from  Him,  from  whom  He  said  that 
He  was  sent.  Whence  it  comes  that  when  the 
Jews  said  to  Him,  "  Thou  art  not  yet  fifty 
years  old  and  hast  Thou  seen  Abraham  ? " 
He  replied  in  words  that  exactly  suit  His 
eternity  and  glory,  saying,  "  Verily,  verily,  I 
say  unto  you,  Before  Abraham  came  into 
being,  I  am."'-  I  ask  then,  whose  saying  do 
you  think  this  is  ?  Certainly  it  is  Christ's 
without  any  doubt.  And  how  could  He  who 
had  been  but  recently  born,  say  that  He  was 
before  Abraham  ?  Simply  owing  to  the  Word 
of  God,  with  which  He  was  entirely  united,  so 
that  all  might  understand  the  closeness  of  the 
union  of  Christ  and  God  :  since  whatever  God 
said  in  Christ,  that  in  its  fulness  the  unity  of 
the  Divinity  claimed  for  Himself.  But  con- 
scious of  His  own  eternity,  He  rightly  then 
when  in  the  body,  replied  to  the  Jews,  with  the 
very  words  which  He  had  formerly  spoken  to 
Moses  in  the  Spirit.  For  here  He  says,  "  Be- 
fore Abraham  came  into  being,  I  am."  But 
to  Moses  He  says,  "I  am  that  I  am."3     He 


1  S.  John  viii.  40,  42.        2  Ibid.  ver.  5S.       3  Exod.  iii.  14. 


certainly  announced  the  eternity  of  His  Divine 
nature  with  marvellous  grandeur  of  language 
for  nothing  can  be  spoken  so  worthily  of  God, 
as  that  He  should  be  said  ever  to  be.  For 
"to  be  "  admits  of  no  beginning  in  the  past 
or  end  in  the  future.  And  so  this  is  very 
clearly  spoken  of  the  nature  of  the  eternal 
God,  as  it  exactly  describes  His  eternity. 
And  this  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  Himself,  when 
He  was  speaking  of  Abraham,  showed  by  the 
difference  of  terms  used,  saying,  "  Before  Abra- 
ham came  into  being  I  am."  Of  Abraham  he 
said,  "Before  he  came  into  being:"  Of  Him- 
self, "  I  am,"  for  it  belongs  to  things  temporal 
to  come  into  being :  to  be  belongs  to  eternity. 
And  so  "  to  come  into  being  "  He  assigns  to 
human  transitoriness :  but  "  to  be "  to  His 
own  nature.  And  all  this  was  found  in  Christ 
who,  by  virtue  of  the  mystery  of  the  manhood 
and  Divinity  joined  together  in  Him  who  ever 
"was,"  could  say  that  He  already  "was." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Since  those  marvellous  works  which  from  the  days  of  Moses 
were  shown  to  the  children  of  Israel  are  attributed  to  Christ, 
it  follows  that  He  must  have  existed  long  before  His  birth 
in  time. 

And  when  the  Apostle  wanted  to  make  this 
clear  and  patent  to  everybody  he  spoke  as  fol- 
lows, saying  that,  "  Jesus  having  saved  the 
people  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt  afterward 
destroyed  them  that  believed  not."  4  But  else- 
where too  we  read :  "  Neither  let  us  tempt 
Christ,  as  some  of  them  tempted,  and  were 
destroyed  by  serpents."  5  Peter  also  the  chief 
of  the  apostles  says  :  "  And  now  why  tempt  ye 
God  to  put  a  yoke  upon  the  neck  of  the  disci- 
ples, which  neither  our  fathers  nor  we  have 
been  able  to  bear.  But  we  believe  that  we 
shall  be  saved  by  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  even  as  they  were."6  We  know  most 
certainly  that  the  people  of  God  were  delivered 
from  Egypt,  and  led  dryshod  through  mighty 
tracts  of  water,  and  preserved  in  the  vast  desert 
wastes,  by  none  but  God  alone  ;  as  it  is  writ- 
ten :  "  The  Lord  alone  did  lead  them,  and 
there  was  no  strange  God  among  them." 7 
And  how  can  an  Apostle  declare  in  so 
many  and  such  clear  passages  that  the  peo- 
ple of  the  Jews  were  delivered  from  Egypt 
by  Jesus,  and  that  Christ  was  at  that  time 
tempted  by  the  Jews  in  the  wilderness,  say- 
ing, "  Neither   let  us  tempt    Christ,  as   some 


i  S.  Jude,  ver.  5. 
c  1  Cor.  x.  9. 


6  Acts  xv.  10,  11. 

7  Deut.  xxxii.  12. 


BOOK   V. 


587 


of  them  tempted,  and  were  destroyed  of  the 
serpents  ?  '*'  And  further  the  blessed  Apostle 
Peter  says  of  all  the  saints  who  lived  under 
the  law  of  the  Old  Covenant  that  they  were 
saved  by  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
Get  out  then,  and  wriggle  out  of  this  if  you 
can  —  whoever  you  are  —  you  who  rage  with 
vapid  mouth  and  a  spirit  of  blasphemy,  and 
think  that  there  is  no  difference  at  all  between 
Adam  and  Christ ;  and  you  who  deny  that  He 
was  God  before  His  birth  of  the  Virgin,  show 
clearly  how  you  can  prove  that  He  was  not 
God  before  His  body  came  into  existence. 
For  lo,  an  Apostle  says  that  the  people  were 
saved  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt  by  Jesus  :  and 
that  Christ  was  tempted  by  unbelievers  in  the 
wilderness :  and  that  our  fathers,  i.e.,  the  pa- 
triarchs and  prophets,  were  saved  by  the  grace 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Deny  it  if  you  can. 
I  shall  not  be  surprised  if  you  manage  to  deny 
what  we  all  read,  as  you  have  already  denied 
what  we  all  believe.  Know  then  that  even  then 
it  was  Christ  in  God  who  led  the  people  out 
of  Egypt,  and  it  was  Christ  in  God  who  was 
tempted  by  the  people  who  tempted,  and  it 
was  Christ  in  God  who  saved  all  the  righteous 
men  by  His  lavish  grace :  for  through  the 
oneness  of  the  mystery  (of  the  Incarnation) 
the  terms  God  and  Christ  so  pass  into  each 
other,  that  whatever  God  did,  that  we  may 
say  that  Christ  did ;  and  whatever  afterwards 
Christ  bore,  we  may  say  that  God  bore.  And 
so  when  the  prophet  said,  "  There  shall  no 
new  God  be  in  thee,  neither  shalt  thou  worship 
any  other  God,"  1  he  announced  it  with  the 
same  meaning  and  in  the  same  spirit  as  that 
with  which  the  Apostle  said  that  Christ  was 
the  leader  of  the  people  of  Israel  out  of 
Egypt ;  to  show  that  He  who  was  born  of  the 
Virgin  as  man,  was  even  through  the  unity  of 
the  mystery  still  in  God.  Otherwise,  unless 
we  believe  this,  we  must  either  believe  with 
the  heretics  that  Christ  is  not  God,  or  against 
the  teaching  of  the  prophet  hold  that  He  is  a 
new  God.  But  may  it  be  far  from  the  Catho- 
lic people  of  God,  to  seem  either  to  differ  from 
the  prophet  or  to  agree  with  heretics  :  or  per- 
chance the  people  who  should  be  blessed  may 
be  involved  in  a  curse,  and  be  charged  with 
putting  their  hope  in  man.  For  whoever  de- 
clares that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  at  His 
birth  a  mere  man,  is  doubly  liable  to  the  curse, 
whether  he  believes  in  Him  or  not.  For  if  he 
believes,  "  Cursed  is  he  who  puts  his  hope  in 
man."  2  But  if  he  does  not  believe,  none  the 
less  is  he  still  cursed,  because  though  not  be- 
lieving in  man,  he  still  has  altogether  denied 
God. 


1   Ps.  lxxx.  (lxxxi.).  10. 


2  Jer.  xvii.  5. 


CHAPTER   X. 

He  explains  what  it  means  to  confess,  and  what  it  means  to 
dissolve  Jesus. 

For  this  it  is  which  John,  the  man  so  dear 
to  God,  foresaw  from  the  Lord's  own  revela- 
tion to  him  and  so  spoke  of  Him,  who  was 
speaking  in  him.  "  Every  spirit,"  he  says, 
"  which  confesseth  Jesus  come  in  the  flesh  is  of 
God,  and  every  spirit  that  dissolveth  Jesus  is 
not  of  God  :  and  this  is  the  spirit  of  Antichrist, 
of  whom  you  have  heard  already,  and  he  is 
now  already  in  the  world."  3  O  the  marvel- 
lous and  singular  goodness  of  God,  who  like 
a  most  careful  and  skilful  physician,  foretold 
beforehand  the  diseases  that  should  come 
upon  His  Church,  and  when  He  showed  the 
mischief  beforehand,  gave  in  showing  it, 
a  remedy  for  it :  that  all  men  when  they  saw 
the  evil  approaching,  might  at  once  flee  as  far 
as  possible  from  that  which  they  already  knew 
to  be  imminent.  And  so  Saint  John  says, 
"  Every  spirit  that  dissolveth  Jesus  is  not  of 
God;  and  this  is  the  spirit  of  Antichrist." 
Do  you  recognize  him,  O  you  heretic  ?  Do 
you  recognize  that  it  is  plainly  and  markedly 
spoken  of  you  ?  For  no  one  thus  dissolves 
Jesus  but  he  who  does  not  confess  that  He  is 
God.  For  since  in  this  consists  all  the  faith 
and  all  the  worship  of  the  Church  ;  viz.,  to 
confess  that  Jesus  is  very  God ;  who  can 
more  dissolve  His  glory  and  worship  than 
one  who  denies  the  existence  in  Him  of  all 
that  we  all  worship  ?  Take  then,  I  beseech 
you,  take  care  lest  any  one  may  even  term 
you  Antichrist.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  re- 
viling and  cursing  ?  What  I  am  saying  is  not 
my  own  idea :  for  lo,  the  Evangelist  says, 
"  Every  one  that  dissolveth  Jesus  is  not  of 
God;  and  this  is  Antichrist."  If  you  do  not 
dissolve  Jesus,  and  deny  God,  no  one  may  call 
you  Antichrist.  But  if  you  deny  it  why  do 
you  accuse  anyone  for  calling  you  Antichrist?: 
While  you  are  denying  it,  I  declare  you  have 
said  it  of  yourself.  Would  you  like  to  know 
whether  this  is  true  ?  Tell  me,  when  Jesus 
was  born  of  a  Virgin,  what  do  you  make  Him 
to  be  —  man  or  God  ?  If  God  only,  you  cer- 
tainly dissolve  Jesus,  as  you  deny  that  in  Him 
manhood  was  joined  to  Divinity.  But  if  you 
say  He  was  man,  none  the  less  do  you  dissolve 
Him,  as  you  blasphemously  say  that  a  mere 


3  1  S.  John  iv.  2,  3.  It  will  be  no'iiced  that  Cassian  quotes  this 
passage  with  the  reading  "  Qui  solvit  Jesum,"  where  the  Greek  has 
6  /j.rj  6/xoAoyet  tov  'Ir;5o0i'.  Auet  is  found  in  no  Greek  MS.,  uncial  or 
cursive,  and  the  only  Greek  authority  for  it  is  that  of  Socrates,  who 
says  it  was  the  reading  in  "the  old  copies."  "  Qui  solvit "  was 
probably  an  early  gloss,  current  in  very  early  days  in  the  West,  being 
found  in  Tertulhan  (adv.  Marc.  v.  16 ;  De  Jejun  :  i.)  and  in  all  Latin 
MSS.  whether  of  the  Vetus  or  Vulgate  (with  a  single  exception), 
and  finally  becoming  universal  in  the  Fathers  of  the  Western  Church. 
Cf.  Westcott  on  the  Epp.  of  S.  John,  p.  156,  sq. 


588 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF    JOHN    CASSIAN. 


man  (as  you  will  have  it)  was  born.  Unless 
perhaps  you  think  that  you  do  not  dissolve 
Jesus,  you  who  deny  Him  to  be  God,  you  who 
would  certainly  dissolve  Him  even  if  you  did 
not  deny x  that  man  was  born  together  with  God. 
But  possibly  you  would  like  this  to  be  made 
clearer  by  examples.  You  shall  have  them  in 
both  directions.  The  Manichees  are  outside 
the  Church,  who  declare  that  Jesus  was  God 
alone  :  and  the  Ebionites,  who  say  that  he  was 
a  mere  man.  For  both  of  them  deny  and  dis- 
solve Jesus :  the  one  by  saying  that  He  is 
only  man,  the  other  by  saying  that  He  is  only 
God.  For  though  their  opinions  were  the 
opposite  of  each  other,  yet  the  blasphemy  of 
these  diverse  opinions  is  much  the  same,  ex- 
cept that  if  any  distinction  can  be  drawn 
between  the  magnitude  of  the  evils,  your 
blasphemy  which  asserts  that  He  is  a  mere 
man  is  worse  than  that  which  says  that  He  is 
only  God  :  for  though  both  are  wrong,  yet  it  is 
more  insulting  to  take  away  from  the  Lord 
what  is  Divine  than  what  is  human.  This 
then  alone  is  the  Catholic  and  the  true  faith  ; 
viz.,  to  believe  that  as  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
is  God  so  also  is  He  man ;  and  that  as  He  is 
man  so  also  is  He  God.  "  Every  one  who  dis- 
solves Jesus  is  not  of  God."  But  to  dissolve 
Him  is  to  try  to  rend  asunder  what  is  united 
in  Jesus  ;  and  to  sever  what  is  but  one  and  in- 
divisible. But  what  is  it  in  Jesus  that  is  united 
and  but  one  ?  Certainly  the  manhood  and  the 
Godhead.  He  then  dissolves  Jesus  who  severs 
these  and  rends  them  asunder.  Otherwise,  if 
he  does  not  rend  them  asunder  and  sever 
them,  he  does  not  dissolve  Jesus :  But  if  he 
rends  them  asunder  he  certainly  dissolves 
Him.2 


CHAPTER   XL 


The  mystery  of  the  Lord's  Incarnation  clearly  implies  the 
Divinity  of  Christ. 


And  so  to  every  man  who  breaks  out  into  this 
mad  blasphemy,  the  Lord  Jesus  in  the  gospel 
Himself  repeats  what  He  said  to  the  Phari- 
sees, and  declares  :  "  What  God  hath  joined 
together,  let  not  man  put  asunder."  3  For 
although  where  it  was  originally  spoken  by 
God  it  seems  to  be  in  answer  to  another  mat- 
ter, yet  the  deep  wisdom  of  God  which  was 
speaking  not  more  of  carnal  than  of  spiritual 
things,  would  have  this  to  be  taken  of  that 
subject  indeed,   but   even   more  of   this :   for 


1  Non  negares  (Petschenig).     Gazaeus  has  denegares. 

2  The  last  sentences  are  placed  in  brackets  by  Petschenig. 

3  S.  Matt.  xix.  6. 


when  the  Jews  of  that  day  believed  with  you 
that  Jesus  was  only  a  man  without  Divinity,, 
and  the  Lord  was  asked  a  question  about  the 
union  in  marriage,  in  His  teaching  He  not 
only  referred  to  it,  but  to  this  also  :  though 
consulted  about  matters  of  less  importance 
PI  is  answer  applied  to  greater  and  deeper 
matters,  when  he  said,  "What  God  hath 
joined  together,  let  not  man  put  asunder,"  i.e., 
Do  not  sever  what  God  hath  joined  together 
in  My  Person.  Let  not  human  wickedness 
sever  that  which  the  Divine  Glory  hath  united 
in  Me.  But  if  you  want  to  be  told  more  fully 
that  this  is  so,  hear  the  Apostle  talking  about 
these  very  subjects  of  which  the  Saviour  was 
then  teaching,  for  he,  as  a  teacher  sent  from 
God  that  his  weak-minded  hearers  might  be 
able  to  take  in  his  teaching,  expounded  those 
very  subjects  which  God  had  proclaimed  in  a 
mystery.  For  when  he  was  discussing  the 
subject  of  carnal  union,  on  which  the  Saviour 
had  been  asked  a  question  in  the  gospel,  he 
repeated  those  very  passages  from  the  old  Law 
on  which  He  had  dwelt,  on  purpose  that  they 
might  see  that  as  he  was  using  the  same 
authorities  he  was  expounding  the  same  sub- 
ject :  besides  which,  that  nothing  may  seem  to 
be  wanting  to  his  case,  he  adds  the  mention  of 
carnal  union,  and  puts  in  the  names  of  hus- 
band and  wife  whom  he  exhorts  to  love  one 
another  :  "  Husbands,  love  your  wives  even  as 
Christ  also  loved  the  Church."  And  again  : 
"  So  also  ought  men  to  love  their  wives  even 
as  their  own  bodies.  He  that  loveth  his  wife 
loveth  himself.  For  no  man  ever  hated  his 
own  flesh,  but  nourisheth  and  cherisheth  it,  as 
Christ  also  doth  the  Church,  for  we  are  mem- 
bers of  His  body."4  You  see  how  by  adding 
to  the  mention  of  man  and  wife  the  mention  of 
Christ  and  the  Church,  he  leads  all  from  tak- 
ing it  carnally  to  understand  it  in  a  spiritual 
sense.  For  when  he  had  said  all  this,  he 
added  those  passages  which  the  Lord  had 
applied  in  the  Gospel,  saying :  "  For  this 
cause  shall  a  man  leave  his  father  and  his 
mother,  and  shall  cleave  unto  his  wife,  and 
they  twain  shall  be  one  flesh."  And  after 
this  with  special  emphasis  he  adds :  "  This  is 
a  great  mystery."  He  certainly  altogether 
cuts  off  and  gets  rid  of  any  carnal  interpreta- 
tion, by  saying  that  it  is  a  Divine  mystery. 
And  what  did  he  add  after  this  ?  "  But  I  am 
speaking  of  Christ  and  the  Church."  That  is 
to  say  :  "  But  that  is  a  great  mystery.  But  I 
am  speaking  of  Christ  and  the  Church,"  i.e., 
since  perhaps  at  the  present  time  all  cannot 
grasp  that,  they  may  at  least  grasp  this,  which 
is  not  at  variance  with  it,  nor  different  from  it, 


4  Eph.  v.  25-30. 


BOOK   V. 


539 


because  both  refer  to  Christ.  But  because 
they  cannot  grasp  those  more  profound  truths, 
let  them  at  least  take  in  these  easier  ones, 
that  by  making  a  commencement  by  grasping 
what  lies  on  the  surface,  they  may  come  to  the 
deeper  truths,  and  that  the  acquisition  of  a 
somewhat  simple  matter  may  open  the  way  in 
time  to  what  is  more  profound. 


CHAPTER   XII. 


He  explains  more  fully  what  the  mystery  is  which  is  signified 
under  the  name  of  the  man  and  wife. 


What  then  is  that  great  mystery  which  is  sig- 
nified under  the  name  of  the  man  and  his  wife  ? 
Let  us  ask  the  Apostle  himself,  who  elsewhere 
to  teach  the  same  thing  uses  words  of  the 
same  force,  saying:  "  And  evidently  great  is  the 
mystery  of  godliness,  which  was  manifested  in 
the  flesh,  justified  in  the  Spirit,  seen  of  angels, 
preached  to  the  Gentiles,  believed  on  in  the 
world,  received  up  in  glory."  1  What  then  is 
that  great  mystery  which  was  manifested  in 
the  flesh  ?  Clearly  it  was  God  born  of  the 
flesh,  God  seen  in  bodily  form :  who  was 
openly  received  up  in  glory  just  as  He  was 
openly  manifested  in  the  flesh.  This  then  is 
the  great  mystery,  of  which  he  says  :  "  For  this 
cause  shall  a  man  leave  his  father  and  mother, 
and  shall  cleave  to  his  wife ;  and  they  two 
shall  be  one  flesh."  Who  then  were  the  two 
in  one  flesh  ?  God  and  the  soul,  for  in  the  one 
flesh  of  ram  which  is  joined  to  God  are  pres- 
ent God  and  the  soul,  as  the  Lord  Himself 
says :  "  No  man  can  take  My  life  (anima) 
away  from  Me.  But  I  lay  it  down  of  Myself. 
I  have  power  to  lay  it  down,  and  I  have  power 
to  take  it  again."2  You  see  then  in  this, 
three ;  viz.,  God,  the  flesh,  and  the  soul.  It 
is  God  who  speaks :  the  flesh  in  which  He 
speaks :  the  soul  of  which  He  speaks.  Is  He 
therefore  that  man  of  whom  the  prophet  says  : 
"A  brother  cannot  redeem,  nor  shall  a  man 
redeem"?3  Who,  as  it  was  said,  "ascended 
up  where  He  was  before,"  4  and  of  whom  we 
re  id  :  "  No  man  hath  ascended  into  heaven,  but 
He  who  came  down  from  heaven,  even  the  Son 
of  man  wno  is  in  heaven."  5  For  this  cause,  I 
say,  He  has  left  his'  father  and  mother,  i.e., 
God  from    whom    He  was  begotten  and  that 


1  1  Tim.  iii.  16.  Quod  manifestum  in  earne.  The  true  readingis 
pretty  cert-unhy  6?,  see  Westcott  and  Hort,  Greek  Testament,  vol.  ii., 
p.  112.  The  neuter  6  is  found  in  D.  and  in  many  Latin  Fathers,  as 
well  as  the  Vulgate. 

2  S.  John  x.  18.  4  Cf.  S.  John  vi.  62. 

3  Ps.  xlviii.  (xlix.).  8.  5  S.  John  iii.  13. 


"Jerusalem  which  is  the  mother  of  us  all,"6 
and  has  cleaved  to  human  flesh,  as  to  his  wife. 
And  therefore  he  expressly  says  in  the  case  of 
the  father  "  a  man  shall  leave  his  father,"  but 
in  the  case  of  the  mother  he  does  not  say 
"his,"  but  simply  says  "mother:"  because  she 
was  not  so  much  his  mother,  as  the  mother  of 
all  believers,  i.e.,  of  all  of  us.  And  He  was 
joined  to  his  wife,  for  just  as  man  and  wife 
make  but  one  body,  so  the  glory  of  Divinity  and 
the  flesh  of  man  are  united  and  the  two,  viz., 
God  and  the  soul,  become  one  flesh.  For  just 
as  that  flesh  had  God  as  an  indweller  in  it,  so 
also  had  it  the  soul  within  it  dwelling  with 
God.  This  then  is  that  great  mystery,  to 
search  out  which  our  admiration  for  the  Apcs- 
tle  summons  us,  and  Cod's  own  exhortation 
bids  us  :  and  it  is  one  not  foreign  to  Christ 
and  His  Church,  as  he  says,  "  But  I  am  speak- 
ing of  Christ  and  the  Church."  Because  the 
flesh  of  the  Church  is  the  flesh  of  Christ,  and 
in  the  flesh  of  Christ  there  is  present  God  and 
the  soul  :  and  so  the  same  person  is  present  in 
Christ  as  in  the  Church,  because  the"  mystery 
which  we  believe  in  the  flesh  of  Christ,  is  con- 
tained also  by  faith  in  the  Church. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Of  the  longing  with  which  the  old  patriarchs  desired  to  see  the 
revelation  of  that  mystery. 

This  mystery  then,  which  was  manifested  in 
the  flesh  and  appeared  in  the  world,  and  was 
preached  to  the  Gentiles,  many  of  the  saints  of 
old  longed  to  see  in  the  flesh,  as  they  foresaw 
it  in  the  spirit.  For  "Verily,"  saith  the  Lord, 
"  I  say  unto  you  that  many  prophets  and 
righteous  men  have  desired  to  see  the  things 
which  ye  see,  and  have  not  seen  them  ;  and  to 
hear  the  things  which  ye  hear  and  have  not 
heard  them." 7  And  so  the  prophet  Isaiah 
says :  "  O  that  Thou,  Lord,  would  rend  the 
heavens  and  come  down,"  8  and  David  too : 
"O  Lord,  bow  the  heavens  and  come  down."  9 
Moses  also  says :  "  Show  me  Thyself  that  I 
may  see  Thee  plainly."  10  No  one  ever  ap- 
proached nearer  to  God  speaking  out  of  the 
clouds,  and  to  the  very  presence  of  His  glory 
than  Moses  who  received  the  law.  And  if  no 
one  ever  saw  more  closely  into  God  than  he 
did,  why  did  he  ask  for  a  still  clearer  vision, 
saying,  "  Show  me  Thyself  that  I  may  see  Thee 
plainly  "  ?     Simply  because  he  prayed  that  this 


Gal.  iv.  26. 

S.  Matt.  xiii.  17. 


8  Isa.  lxiv.  1.  10  Exod.  xxxiii.  13. 

9  Ps.  xcliii.  (cxliv).  5. 


590 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


might  happen  which  the  apostle  tells  us  in 
almost  the  same  words  actually  did  happen ; 
viz.,  that  the  Lord  might  be  openly  manifested 
in  the  flesh,  might  openly  appear  to  the  world, 
openly  be  received  up  in  glory ;  and  that  at 
last  the  saints  might  with  their  very  bodily 
eyes  see  all  those  things  which  with  spiritual 
sight  they  had  foreseen. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

He  refutes  the  wicked  and  blasphemous  notion  of  the  here- 
tics who  said  that  God  dwelt  and  spoke  in  Christ  as  in  an 
instrument  or  a  statue. 

Otherwise,  as  the  heretics  say,  God  would 
be  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  in  a  statue  or 
in  an  instrument,  i.e.,  He  would  dwell  as  it 
were  in  a  man  and  speak  as  it  were  through  a 
man,  and  it  would  not  be  He  who  dwelt  and 
spoke  as  God  of  Himself  and  in  His  own 
body :  and  certainly  He  had  already  thus 
dwelt  in  the  saints  and  spoken  in  the  per- 
sons of  the  saints.  In  those  men  too,  of 
whom  I  spoke  above,  who  had  prayed  for 
His  advent,  He  had  thus  dwelt  and  spoken. 
And  what  need  was  there  for  all  these  to  ask 
for  what  they  already  possessed,  if  they  were 
seeking  for  what  they  had  previously  received  ? 
Or  why  should  they  long  to  see  with  their  eyes 
what  they  were  keeping  in  their  hearts,  espe- 
cially as  it  is  better  for  a  man  to  have  the 
same  thing  within  himself  than  to  see  it  out- 
side ?  Or  if  God  was  to  dwell  in  Christ  in  the 
same  way  as  in  all  the  saints,  why  should  all 
the  saints  long  to  see  Christ  rather  than  them- 
selves ?  And  if  they  were  only  to  see  the 
same  thing  in  Jesus  Christ,  which  they  them- 
selves possessed,  why  should  they  not  much 
rather  prefer  to  have  this  in  themselves  than 
to  see  it  in  another  ?  But  you  are  wrong,  you 
wretched  madman,  "not  understanding,"  as 
the  Apostle  says,  "  what  you  say  and  whereof 
you  affirm  "  : 1  for  all  the  prophets  and  all  the 
saints  received  from  God  some  portion  of  the 
Divine  Spirit  as  they  were  able  to  bear  it. 
But  in  Christ  "  all  the  fulness  of  the  God- 
head "  dwelt  and  "  dwells  bodily."  And  there- 
fore they  all  fall  far  short  of  His  fulness,  from 
whose  fulness  they  receive  something  :  for  the 
fact  that  they  are  filled  is  the  gift  of  Christ : 
because  they  would  all  certainly  be  empty, 
were  He  not  the  fulness  of  all. 


CHAPTER   XV 

What  the  prayers  of  the  saints  for  the  coming  of  Messiah 
contained;  and  what  was  the  nature  of  that  longing  of 
theirs. 

This  then  all  the  saints  wished  for  :  for  this 
they  prayed.  This  they  longed  to  see  with 
their  eyes  in  proportion  as  they  were  wise  in 
heart  and  mind.  And  so  the  prophet  Isaiah 
says  :  "  O  that  Thou  wouldst  rend  the  heavens 
and  come  down." 2  But  Habakkuk  too  de- 
claring the  same  thing  which  the  other  was 
wishing  for,  says  :  "  When  the  years  draw  nigh, 
Thou  wilt  show  Thyself :  at  the  coming  of  the 
times  Thou  wilt  be  manifested  :  God  will  come 
from  Teman,"  or  "  God  will  come  from  the 
south." 3  David  also  :  "  God  will  clearly 
come  :  "  and  again  :  "  Thou  that  sittest  above 
the  Cherubim,  show  Thyself."4  Some  de- 
clared His  advent  which  He  presented  to  the 
world  :  others  prayed  for  it.  Some  in  different 
forms  but  all  with  equal  longing :  understand- 
ing up  to  a  certain  point  how  great  a  thing 
they  were  praying  for,  that  God  dwelling  in 
God,  and  continuing  in  the  form  and  bosom 
of  God,  might  "  empty  Himself,"  5  and  take 
the  form  of  a  servant  and  submit  Himself  to 
endure  all  the  bitterness  and  insults  of  the  pas- 
sion, and  undergo  punishment  for  His  good- 
ness, and  what  is  hardest,  and  the  most  dis- 
graceful thing  of  all,  meet  with  death  at  the 
hands  of  those  very  persons  for  whom  He 
would  die.  All  the  saints  then  understanding 
this  up  to  a  certain  point  —  up  to  a  certain 
point,  I  say,  for  how  vast  it  is  none  can  under- 
stand — with  concordant  voice  and  (so  to  speak) 
by  mutual  consent  all  prayed  for  the  advent 
of  God  :  for  indeed  they  knew  that  the  hope  of 
all  men  lay  therein,  and  that  the  salvation 
of  all  was  bound  up  in  this,  because  no  one 
could  loose  the  prisoners  except  one  who  was 
Himself  free  from  chains :  no  one  could  re- 
lease sinners,  save  one  Himself  without  sin  : 
for  no  one  can  in  any  case  set  free  anyone, 
unless  he  is  himself  free  in  that  particular,  in 
which  another  is  freed  by  him.  And  so  when 
death  had  passed  on  all,  all  were  wanting  in 
life,  that,  dying  in  Adam,  they  might  live  in 
Christ.  For  though  there  were  many  saints, 
many  elect  and  even  friends  of  God,  yet  none 
could  ever  of  themselves  be  saved,  had  they 
not  been  saved  by  the  advent  of  the  Lord  and 
His  redemption. 

2  Isa.  lxiv.  i. 

3  Hab.  iii.  2,  3,  where  the  Old  Latin  has  "Theman,''  and  the 
Vulgate  "Austro." 

4  Ps.  xlix.  (1.)  3;  lxxix.  (lxxx.)  2.  °  Phil.  ii.  7. 


BOOK   VI. 


591 


BOOK   VI. 


CHAPTER   I. 

From  the  miracle  of  the  feeding  of  the  multitude  from  five 
barley  loaves  and  two  fishes  he  shows  the  majesty  of  Divine 
Power. 

We  read  in  the  gospel  that  when  five  loaves 
were  at  the  Lord's  bidding  brought  to  Him, 
an  immense  number  of  God's  people  were  fed 
with  them.  But  how  this  was  done  it  is  im- 
possible to  explain,  or  to  understand  or  to 
imagine.  So  great  and  so  incomprehensible 
is  the  might  of  Divine  Power,  that  though  we 
are  perfectly  assured  of  the  fact,  yet  we  are 
unable  to  understand  the  manner  of  the  fact. 
For  first  one  would  have  to  comprehend  how 
so  small  a  number  of  loaves  could  be  sufficient, 
I  will  not  say  for  them  to  eat  and  be  filled,  but 
even  to  be  divided  and  set  before  them,  when 
there  were  many  more  thousands  of  men 
than  there  were  loaves ;  and  almost  more 
companies  than  there  could  be  fragments  of 
the  whole  number  of  loaves.  The  plentiful 
supply  then  was  the  creation  of  the  word  of 
the  Lord.  The  work  grew  in  the  doing  of  it. 
And  though  what  was  visible  was  but  little  ; 
yet  what  was  given  to  them  became  more  than 
could  be  reckoned.  There  is  then  no  room 
for  conjecture,  for  human  speculation,  or  imagi- 
nation. The  only  thing  in  such  a  case  is  that 
like  faithful  and  wise  men  we  should  acknow- 
ledge that,  however  great  and  incomprehen- 
sible are  the  things  which  are  done  by  God, 
even  if  they  are  altogether  beyond  our  com- 
prehension, we  must  recognize  that  nothing  is 
impossible  with  God.  But  of  these  unspeak- 
able acts  of  Divine  Power,  we  will,  as  the  sub- 
ject demands  it,  speaks  more  fully  later  on, 
because  it  exactly  corresponds  to  the  ineffable 
miracles  of  His  Holy  Nativity. 


CHAPTER   II. 

The  author  adapts  the  mystery  of  the  number  seven  (made  up 
of  ihefve  loaves  and  two  fishes)  to  his  own  work. 

Meanwhile  as  we  have  alluded  to  the  five 
loaves,  I  think  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  to 
make  a  comparison  of  the  five  books  which  we 
have  already  composed.  For  as  they  are 
equal  in  number,  so  they  are  not  dissimilar  in 
character.  For  as  the  loaves  were  of  barley, 
so  these  books  may  (as  far  as  my  ability  is 
concerned)  be  fairly  termed  "  of  barley," 
although  they  are  enriched  with  passages  from 


Holy  Scripture,  and  contain  life-giving  trea- 
sures in  contemptible  surroundings.  And  even 
in  this  point  they  are  not  unlike  those  loaves, 
for  though  they  were  poor  things  to  look  at, 
yet  they  proved  to  be  rich  in  blessing  :  and  so 
these  books,  though,  as  far  as  my  powers  are 
concerned,  they  are  worthless,  yet  they  are 
valuable  from  the  sacred  matter  which  is 
mingled  with  them  :  and  though  they  appear 
outwardly  worthless  like  barley  owing  to  my 
words,  yet  within  they  have  the  savour  of  the 
bread  of  life  owing  to  the  testimonies  from 
the  Lord  Himself.  It  remains  that,  after  His 
example,  they  may,  by  the  gift  of  Divine  grace, 
furnish  life-giving  food  from  countless  seeds. 
And  as  those  loaves  supplied  bodily  strength 
to  those  who  ate  them,  so  may  these  give 
spiritual  vigour  to  those  who  read  them.  But 
as  then  the  Lord,  from  whom  this  gift  comes 
as  did  that,  by  means  of  that  food  provided 
that  they  might  be  filled  and  so  should  not 
faint  by  the  way,  so  now  is  He  able  to  bring  it 
about  that  by  means  of  this  men  may  be  filled 
and  not  err  (from  the  faith).  But  still  because 
there,  where  a  countless  host  of  God's  people 
was  fed  with  a  mighty  gift,  though  there  was 
very  little  for  them  to  eat,  we  read  that  to 
those  five  loaves  there  were  added  two  fishes,  it 
is  fitting  that  we  too,  who  are  anxious  to  give 
to  all  God's  people  who  are  following,  the 
nourishment  of  a  spiritual  repast,  should  add 
to  those  five  books  corresponding  to  the  five 
loaves,  two  more  books  corresponding  to  the 
two  fishes :  praying  and  beseeching  Thee,  O 
Lord,  that  Thou  wilt  look  on  our  efforts  and 
prayers,  and  grant  a  prosperous  issue  to  our 
pious  undertaking.  And  since  we,  out  of  our 
love  and  obedience,  desire  to  make  the  num- 
ber of  qur  books  correspond  to  the  number  of 
loaves  and  fishes,  do  Thou  grant  the  virtue 
of  Thy  Benediction  upon  them ;  and,  as  Thou 
dost  bless  x  this  little  work  of  ours  with  a  gospel 
number,  so  mayest  Thou  fill  up  the  number 
with  the  fruit  of  the  gospel,  and  grant  that  this 
may  be  for  holy  and  saving  food  to  all  the 
people  of  Thy  Church,  of  every  age  and  sex. 
And  if  there  are  some  who  are  affected  by  the 
deadly  breath  of  that  poisonous  serpent,  and 
in  an  unhealthy  state  of  soul  and  spirit  have 
caught  a  pestilential  disease  in  their  feeble  dis- 
positions, give  to  them  all  the  vigour  of  health, 
and  entire  soundness  of  faith,  that  by  grant- 
ing to  them  all,  by  means  of  these  writings  of 
ours,  the   saving   care   of  Thy   gift  —  just    as 


1  Muneraris,  (Petschenig) :  Gazaeus  reads  numeraris. 


592 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF  JOHN    CASSIAN. 


that  food  in  the  gospel  was  completely  sanc- 
tified by  Thee,  so  that  by  eating  it  those 
hungry  souls  were  strengthened,  —  so  mayest 
Thou  bid  languid  souls  to  be  healed  by  these. 


CHAPTER    III. 

He  refutes  his  opponent  by  the  testiomny  of  the  Council 
of  Antioch. 

Therefore  since  we  have,  as  I  fancy, 
already  in  all  the  former  books  with  the 
weight  of  sacred  testimonies,  given  a  com- 
plete answer  to  the  heretic  who  denies  God, 
now  let  us  come  to  the  faith  of  the  Creed  of 
Antioch  and  its  value.  For  as  he1  was  him- 
self baptized  and  regenerated  in  this,  he 
ought  to  be  confuted  by  his  own  profession, 
and  (so  to  speak)  to  be  crushed  beneath  the 
weight  of  his  own  arms,  for  this  is  the  method, 
that  as  he  is  already  convicted  by  the  evi- 
dence of  holy  Scripture,  so  now  he  may  be 
convicted  by  evidence  out  of  his  own  mouth. 
Nor  will  there  be  any  need  to  bring  anything 
else  to  bear  against  him  when  he  has  clearly 
and  plainly  convicted  himself.  The  text  then 
and  the  faith  of  the  Creed  of  Antioch  is  this.2 
"  I  believe  in  one  and  the  only  true  God,  the 
Father  Almighty,  Maker  of  all  things  visible 
and  invisible.  And  in  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
His  only  begotten  Son,  and  the  first-born  of 
every  creature,  begotten  of  Him  before  all 
worlds,  and  not  made :  Very  God  of  Very  God, 
Being  of  one  substance  with  the  Father  :  By 
whom  both  the  worlds  were  framed,  and  all 
things  were  made.  Who  for  us  came,  and  was 
born  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  was  crucified 
under    Pontius    Pilate    and  was   buried :    and 


1  Nestorius,  who  had  belonged  to  the  monastery  of  St.  Eupre- 
pius  near  the  gate  of  Antioch  before  his  elevation  to  the  see  of 
Constantinople. 

2  This  creed  is  plainly  given  by  Cassian  as  the  baptismal  formula 
of  the  Church  of  Antioch  ;  and  with  it  agrees  almost  verbally  a  frag- 
ment of  the  Creed  preserved  in  a  Contestntio  comparing.  Nestorius 
to  Paul  of  Samosata  (a.d.  429,  or  430)  which  is  said  by  Leontius  to 
have  been  the  work  of  Eusebius  afterward  Bishop  of  Dorylasum. 
The  form  is  especially  interesting  as  showing  that  the  Creed  of 
Antioch,  in  common  with  several  other  Eastern  Creeds,  underwent 
revision,  probably  about  the  middle  of  the  fourth  century,  from  the 
desire  to  enrich  the  local  creed  with  Nicene  phraseology.  The  in- 
sertions which  are  obviously  due  to  the  Creed  of  Nicaea  are  :  non  fac- 
tum, Deum  verum  ex  Deo  vero,  homoousion  patri,  or  as  they  would 
run  in  the  original  ov  noi-qQevTa,  Qebv  aAr)Qt.vbv  eK  0coO  akiOtvou, 
6)xoov<tlov  tcu  HaTpi,  and  it  has  been  suggested  that  thev  were  pro- 
bably introduced  at  the  Synod  held  at  Antioch.  under  Meletius  in  363. 
Similar  forms  of  local  creeds  thus  enlarged  bv  the  adoption  of  Nicene 
phraseology  are  (1)  that  of  Jerusalem  as  given  bv  Cyril  in  his  Cate- 
chetical Lectures,  (2)  the  Creed  of  Cappadocia,  (3)  that  of  Mesopo- 
tamia, and  (4)  the  "Creed  of  Charisius  "  preserved  in  the  Acts  of 
the  Council  of  Ephesus  (Mansi  IV.  1348).  On  all  of  these  see 
Dr.  Hort's  "Two  Dissertations,"  p.  no  so. 

Another  interesting  feature  in  the  Creed  as  given  by  Cassian  is 
that  it  was  in  the  singular  "  Credo,"  /believe;  whereas  the  Eastern 
Creeds  are  almost  all  in  the  plural  Triarevoixtv.  That  however 
which  is  found  in  the  Apostolical  Constitutions  (VII.  xli.)  has  the 
singular  iricTTevta  ko.1  /3a7rTi<,"o/xai,  and  therefore  it  is  possible  that 
Cassian  may  have  preserved  the  original  form  here.  It  is  however 
more  probable  that  the  singular  Credo  is  due  to  a  reminiscence  of 
the  form  current  in  the  Western  church,  which  has  influenced  the 
translation.     See  further  Hahn's  Bibliothek  des  Symbole  p.  64  sg. 


the  third  day  He  rose  again  according  to  the 
Scripture  :  and  ascended  into  heaven,  and 
shall  come  again  to  judge  the  quick  and  the 
dead,"  etc.3  In  the  Creed  which  gives  the 
faith  of  all  the  Churches,  I  should  like  to  know 
which  you  would  rather  follow,  the  authority 
of  men  or  of  God  ?  Though  I  would  not 
press  hardly  or  unkindly  upon  you,  but  give 
the  opportunity  of  choosing  whichever  alter- 
native you  please,  that  accepting  one,  I  may 
deny  the  other :  for  I  will  grant  you  and 
yield  to  you  either  of  them.  And  what  do  I 
grant,  I  ask  ?  I  will  force  you  to  one  or  other 
even  against  your  will.  For  you  ought,  if  you 
like,  to  understand  of  your  own  free  will  that 
one  or  other  of  these  is  in  the  Creed  :  if  you 
don't  like  it,  you  must  be  forced  against  your 
will  to  see  it.  For,  as  you  know,  a  Creed 
(Symbolum)  gets  its  name  from  being  a  "  col- 
lection."4 For  what  is  called  in  Greek  oL/tfiolo; 
is  termed  in  Latin  "Collatio."  But  it  is  there- 
fore a  collection  (collatio)  because  when  the 
faith  of  the  whole  Catholic  law  was  collected 
together  by  the  apostles  of  the  Lord,  all  those 
matters  which  are  spread  over  the  whole  body 
of  the  sacred  writings  with  immense  fulness 
of  detail,  were  collected  together  in  sum  in  the 
matchless  brevity  of  the  Creed,  according  to 
to  the  Apostle's  words  :  "  Completing  His 
word,  and  cutting  it  short  in  righteousness  : 
because  a  short  word  shall  the  Lord  make 
upon  the  earth."  5  This  then  is  the  "  short 
word  "  which  the  Lord  made,  collecting  to- 
gether in  few  words  the  faith  of  both  of  His 
Testaments,  and  including  in  a  few  brief 
clauses  the  drift  of  all  the  Scriptures,  build- 
ing up  His  own  out  of  His  own,  and  giving 
the  force  of  the  whole  law  in  a  most  compen- 


3  Cassian  nowhere  quotes  the  last  section  of  the  Creed  of  Anti- 
och, as  it  did  not  concern  the  question  at  issue.  A  few  clauses  of  it 
may  however  be  recovered  from  S.  Chrysostom's  Homilies  (In 
1  Cor.  Horn.  xl.  §  2);  viz.,  koll  eis  AfxapTiuiv  a<fxaiv  Kal  eis  vtKpiov 
avatJTa.mv  Kal  c'ls  ^torjv  aiuitviov- 

4  Sytnboltis,  or  more  commonly  and  correctly  Symbolum  (=  avix- 
$oAoi')  is  the  general  name  for  the  creed  in  the  ancient  church,  met 
with  from  the  days  of  Cyprian  (who  uses  it  more  than  once,  e.g., 
Ep.  lxix.)  onwards.  In  the  account  which  Cassian  gives  in  the  text 
of  the  origin  of  the  name  he  is  certainly  copying  Rufinus  (whose  ex- 
position of  the  Apostles'  Creed  is  directly  quoted  by  him  below  in 
Book  VII.  c.  xxvii.).  The  passage  which  Cassian  evidently  has  in 
his  mind  is  the  following:  "  Moreover  for  many  and  excellent  rea- 
sons they  determined  that  it  should  be  called  Symbolum.  For  '  Sym- 
bolum '  in  Greek  mav  mean  both  Indicium  (a  token)  and  collatio  (a 
collection),  that  is,  that  which  several  bring  together  into  one ;  for  the 
apostles  effected  this  in  these  sentences  by  bringing  together  into 
one  what  each  thought  good.  .  .  .  Therefore  being  about  to  depart 
to  preach,  the  apostles  appointed  that  token  of  their  unanimity  and 
faith."  (Ruf.  De  Symb.  §  2).  Cf.  also  §  1.  "  In  these  words  there 
is  truly  discovered  the  prophecy  which  says :  '  Completing  His  work 
and  cutting  it  short  in  righteousness,  because  a  short  word  will  the 
Lord  make  upon  the  earth.'  "  This  explanation,  however,  of  the 
origin  of  the  term  labours  under  the  fatal  mistake  of  confusing  two 
distinct  Greek  words  <jvp.fic\ri  a  "  collection,"  and  ayp.fio\ov  a 
"watchword:"  and  the  true  explanation  of  the  word  is  probably 
that  which  Rufinus  gives  as  an  alternative,  which  gives  it  the  mean- 
ing of  "watchword^"  It  was  the  watchword  of  the  Christian  sol- 
dier, carefullv  and  jealously  guarded  by  him,  as  that  by  which  he 
could  himself  be  distinguished  from  heretics,  and  that  for  which 
he  could  challenge  others  of  whose  orthodoxy  he  might  be  in  doubt. 

c  Rom.  ix.  2S. 


BOOK   VI. 


593 


dious  and  brief  formula.  Providing  in  this, 
like  a  most  tender  father,  for  the  carelessness 
and  ignorance  of  some  of  his  children,  that 
no  mind  however  simple  and  ignorant  might 
have  any  trouble  over  what  could  so  easily  be 
retained  in  the  memory. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

How  the  Creed  has  authority  Divine  as  well  as  human. 

You  see  then  that  the  Creed  has  the  author- 
ity of  God  :  for  "  a  short  word  will  the  Lord 
make  upon  the  earth."  But  perhaps  you 
want  the  authority  of  men :  nor  is  that  want- 
ing, for  God  made  it  by  means  of  men.  For 
as  He  fashioned  the  whole  body  of  the  sacred 
Scriptures  by  means  of  the  patriarchs  and  more 
particularly  his  own  prophets,  so  He  formed 
the  Creed  by  means  of  His  apostles  and  priests. 
And  whatever  He  enlarged  on  in  these  (in  Scrip- 
ture) with  copious  and  abundant  material,  lie 
here  embraced  in  a  most  complete  and  com- 
pendious form  by  means  of  His  own  servants. 
There  is  nothing  wanting  then  in  the  Creed ; 
because  as  it  was  formed  from  the  Scriptures 
of  God  by  the  apostles  of  God,  it  has  in  it  all 
the  authority  it  can  possibly  have,  whether  of 
men  or  of  God  :  Although  too  that  which  was 
made  by  men,  must  be  accounted  God's  work, 
for  we  should  not  look  on  it  so  much  as  their 
work,  by  whose  instrumentality  it  was  made, 
but  rather  as  His,  who  was  the  actual  maker. 
"  I  believe,"  then,  says  the  Creed,  "  in  one  true 
and  only  God,  the  Father  Almighty,  Maker  of 
all  things  visible  and  invisible ;  and  in  one 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  His  only  begotten  Son, 
and  the  first-born  of  every  creature  ;  Begotten 
of  Him  before  all  worlds,  and  not  made  ;  Very 
God  of  Very  God,  being  of  one  substance  with 
the  Father  ;  by  whom  both  the  worlds  were 
framed  and  all  things  were  made  ;  who  for  us 
came,  and  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary;  and 
was  crucified  under  Pontius  Pilate,  and  was 
buried.  And  the  third  day  He  rose  again  ac- 
cording to  the  Scriptures  ;  and  ascended  into 
heaven  :  and  shall  come  again  to  judge  the 
quick  and  die  dead,"  etc. 


CHAPTER   V. 

He  proceeds  against  his  opponent  with  the  choicest  arguments, 
and  shows  that  we  ought  to  hold  fast  to  the  religion  which 
we  have  received  from  our  fathers. 

If  you  were  an  assertor  of  the  Arian  or  Sa- 
bellian  heresy,  and  did  not  use  your  own 
creed,  I  would  still  confute  you  by  the  authority 
of  the  holy  Scriptures ;  I  would  confute  you  by 


the  words  of  the  law  itself ;  I  would  refute  you 
by  the  truth  of  the  Creed  which  has  been  ap- 
proved throughout  the  whole  world.  I  would 
say  that,  even  if  you  were  void  of  sense  and 
understanding,  yet  still  you  ought  at  least  to 
follow  universal  consent :  and  not  to  make 
more  of  the  perverse  view  of  a  few  wicked  men 
than  of  the  faith  of  all  the  Churches :  which 
as  it  was  established  by  Christ,  and  handed 
down  by  the  apostles  ought  to  be  regarded  as 
nothing  but  the  voice  of  the  authority  of  God, 
which  is  certainly  in  possession  of  the  voice  and 
mind  of  God.  And  what  then  if  I  were  to  deal 
with  you  in  this  way  ?  What  would  you  say  ? 
What  would  you  answer  ?  Would  it  not,  I  ad- 
jure you,  be  this :  viz.,  that  you  had  not  been 
trained  up  and  taught  in  this  way  :  that  some- 
thing different  had  been  delivered  to  you  by 
your  parents,  and  masters,  and  teachers.  That 
you  did  not  hear  this  in  the  meeting  place  of 
your  father's  teaching,  nor  in  the  Church  of 
your  Baptism  :  finally  that  the  text  and  words 
of  the  Creed  delivered  and  taught  to  you  con- 
tained something  different.  That  in  it  you 
were  baptized  and  regenerated.  You  would 
say  that  you  would  hold  fast  this  which  you 
had  received,  and  that  you  would  live  in  that 
Creed  in  which  you  learnt  that  you  were  re- 
generated. When  you  said  this,  would  you  not, 
I  pray,  fancy  that  you  were  using  a  very  strong 
shield  even  against  the  truth  ?  And  indeed  it 
would  be  no  unreasonable  defence,  even  in  a 
bad  business,  and  one  which  would  give  no  bad 
excuse  for  error,  if  it  did  not  unite  obstinacy 
with  error.  For  if  you  held  this,  which  you 
had  received  from  your  childhood,  we  should 
try  to  amend  and  correct  your  present  error, 
rather  than  be  severe  in  punishing  your  past 
fault :  Whereas  now,  as  you  were  born  in  a 
Catholic  city,  instructed  in  the  Catholic  faith, 
and  regenerated  with  Catholic  Baptism,  how 
can  I  deal  with  you  as  with  an  Arian  or  Sabel- 
lian  ?  Would  that  you  were  one  !  I  should 
grieve  less  had  you  been  brought  up  in  what 
was  wrong,  instead  of  having  fallen  away  from 
what  was  right :  had  you  never  received  the 
faith,  instead  of  having  lost  it :  had  you  been 
an  old  heretic  instead  of  a  fresh  apostate,  for 
you  would  have  brought  less  scandal  and 
harm  on  the  whole  Church;  finally  it  would 
have  been  a  less  bitter  sorrow,  and  less  injuri- 
ous example  had  you  been  able  to  try  the 
Church  as  a  layman  rather  than  a  priest. 
Therefore,  as  I  said  above,  if  you  had  been  a 
follower  and  assertor  of  Sabellianism  or  Arian- 
ism  or  any  heresy  you  please,  you  might  shel- 
ter yourself  under  the  example  of  your  parents, 
the  teaching  of  your  instructors,  the  company 
of  those  about  you,  the  faith  of  your  creed.  I 
ask,  O  you  heretic,  nothing  unfair,  and  nothing 


594 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF  JOHN    CASSIAN. 


hard.  As  you  have  been  brought  up  in  the  is  the  same  as  your  own  ?  "  I  believe  "  the 
Catholic  faith,  do  that  which  you  would  do  for  Creed  says,  "  in  one  God,  the  Father  Almighty 
a  wrong  belief.  Hold  fast  to  the  teaching  of  Maker  of  all  things  visible  and  invisible  ■  and 
your  parents.  Hold  fast  the  faith  of  the  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  His  only  begotten 
Church  :  hold  fast  the  truth  of  the  Creed  :  hold  Son,  the  first-born  of  every  creature  ;  Begotten 
fast  the  salvation  of  baptism.  What  sort  of  a  of  Him  before  all  worlds,  and  not  made."  It 
wondei  —  what  sort  of  a  monster  are  you  ? ,  is  well  that  you  should  first  reply  to  this :  Do 
You  will  not  do  for  yourself  what  others  have  you  confess  this  of  Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of 
done  for  their  errors.     But  we  have  launched    God,  or  do  you  deny  it  ?     If  you  confess  it 


out  far  enough  :  and  out  of  love  for  a  city  that 
is  connected  with  us,1  have  yielded  to  our 
grief  as  to  a  strong  wind,  and  while  we  were 
anxious  to  make  way,  have  overshot  the  mark 
of  our  proper  course. 


CHAPTER   VI. 


Once  more  he  challenges 


him  to  the  profession  of  the  Creed  of 
Antioch. 


The  Creed  then,  O  you  heretic,  of  which 
we  gave  the  text  above,  though  it  is  that  of 
all  the  churches  (for  the  faith  of  all  is  but  one) 
is  yet  specially  that  of  the  city  and  Church  of 
Antioch,  i.e.,  of  that  Church  in  which  you  were 
brought  up,  instructed,  and  regenerated.  The 
faith  of  this  Creed  brought  you  to  the  fountain 
of  life,  to  saving  regeneration,  to  the  grace  of 
the  Eucharist,  to  the  Communion  of  the  Lord : 
And  what  more  !  Alas  for  the  grievous  and 
mournful  complaint !  Even  to  the  ministerial 
office,  the  height  of  the  presbyterate,  the  dig- 
nity of  the  priesthood.  Do  you,  you  wretched 
madman,  think  that  this  is  a  light  or  trivial 
matter?    Do  you  not  see  what  you  have  done? 


everything  is  right  enough.  But  if  not,  how 
do  you  now  deny  what  you  yourself  formerly 
confessed  ?  Choose  then  which  you  will :  Of 
two  things  one  must  follow;  viz.,  that  that 
same  confession  of  yours,  if  it  still  holds  good, 
should  alone  set  you  free,  or  if  you  deny  it,  be 
the  first  to  condemn  you.  For  you  said  in  the 
Creed  :  "  I  believe  in  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
His  only  begotten  Son,  and  the  first-born  of 
every  creature."  If  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is 
the  only  begotten,  and  the  first-born  of  every 
creature,  then  by  our  own  confession  He  is 
certainly  God.  For  no  other  is  the  only  be- 
gotten and  first-born  of  every  creature  but  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  God :  as  He  is  the  first- 
born of  the  creatures,  so  He  is  also  God  the 
Creator  of  all.  And  how  can  you  say  that  He 
was  a  mere  man  at  His  birth  from  the  Virgin, 
whom  you  confessed  to  be  God  before  the 
world.  Next  the  Creed  says  :  "  Begotten  of 
the  Father  before  all  worlds,  and  not  made." 
This  Creed  was  uttered  by  you.  You  said  by 
your  Creed,  that  Jesus  Christ  was  begotten 
before  the  worlds  of  God  the  Father,  and  not 
made.  Does  the  Creed  say  anything  about 
those  phantasms,  of  which  you  now  rave  ? 
Did  you  yourself  say  anything  about  them  ? 
Where  is  the  statue  ?  Where  that  instrument 
of  yours,  I  pray?     For  God  forbid  that  this 


Into  what  a  depth  you  have  plunged  yourself  ?  '  sho1uld  be  another's  and  not  yours      Where  is 
In  losing  the  faith  of  the  Creed,  you  have  lost  i  *  £**  5™,  assertthat  the  Lori  Jesus  Christ 


everything  that  you  were.  For  the  mysteries 
of  the  priesthood  and  of  your  salvation  rested 
on  the  truth  of  the  Creed.  Can  you  possibly 
deny  that  ?  I  say  that  you  have  denied  your 
very  self.  But  perhaps  you  think  that  you 
cannot  deny  yourself.  Let  us  look  at  the  text 
of  the  Creed  ;  that  if  you  say  what  you  used  to 
do,  you  may  not  be  refuted,  but  if  you  say 
things  widely  different  and  contrary,  you  may 
not  look  to  be  confuted  by  me,  as  you  have 
condemned  yourself  already.  For  if  you  now 
maintain  something  else  than  what  is  in  the 
Creed  and  what  you  formerly  maintained  your- 
self, how  can  you  help  ascribing  your  punish- 
ment to  nobody  but  yourself,  when  you  see 
that  the  opinion  of  everybody  else  about  you 


1  Viz.,  Constantinople,  where  N'estorius  was  Bishop  and  where 
Cassian  himself  had  been  ordained  deacon  by  S.  Chrysostom,  as  he 
telis  us  below  in  Eook  VII.  c.  xxxi.,  where  he  returns  to  the  subject 
of  his  love  for  the  city  of  his  ordination,  and  interest  in  it. 


is  like  a  statue,  and  so  you  think  that  He  ought 
to  be  worshipped  not  because  He  is  God,  but 
because  He  is  the  image  of  God ;  and  out  of 
the  Lord  of  glory  you  make  an  instrument, 
and  blasphemously  say  that  He  ought  to  be 
adored  not  for  His  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake 
of  Him  who  (as  it  were)  breathes  in  Him  and 
sounds  through  Him  ?  You  said  in  the  Creed 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  begotten  of  the 
Father  before  all  worlds,  and  not  made  :  and 
this  certainly  belongs  to  none  but  the  only  be- 
gotten Son  of  God  :  that  His  birth  should  not 
be  a  creation,  and  that  He  could  be  said  simply 
to  be  begotten,  not  made  :  for  it  is  contrary  to 
the  nature  of  things  and  to  His  honour  that 
the  Creator  of  all  should  be  believed  to  be  a 
creature  :  and  that  He,  the  author  of  all  things 
that  have  a  commencement,  should  Himself 
have  a  beginning,  as  all  things  began  from 
Him.     And  so  we  say  that  He  was  begotten 


BOOK   VI. 


595 


not  made:  for  His  generation  was  unique  and 
no  ordinary  creation.  And  since  He  is  God, 
begotten  of  God,  the  Godhead  of  Him  who  is 
begotten  must  have  everything  complete  which 
the  majesty  of  Him  who  begat  has. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

He  continues  the  same   line  of   argument   drawn   from  the 
Creed  of  Antioch. 

But  there  follows  in  the  Creed :  "  Very 
God  of  Very  God ;  Being  of  one  substance 
with  the  Father ;  by  whom  both  the  worlds 
were  framed,  and  all  things  were  made."  And 
when  you  said  all  this,  remember  that  you 
said  it  all  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  For  you 
find  stated  in  the  Creed  :  that  you  believe  in 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  only  begotten  Son 
of  God,  and  the  first-born  of  every  creature  : 
and  after  this  and  other  clauses  :  "  Very  God 
of  Very  God,  Being  of  one  substance  with 
the  Father ;  by  whom  also  the  worlds  were 
framed."  How  then  can  the  same  Person  be 
God  and  not  God ;  God  and  a  statue  ;  God 
and  an  instrument  ?  These  do  not  harmo- 
nize, you  heretic,  in  any  one  Person,  nor  do 
they  fit  together,  so  that  you  can,  when  you 
like,  call  Him  God ;  and  when  you  like,  con- 
sider the  same  Person  a  creation.  You  said 
in  the  Creed,  "  Very  God."  Now  you  say  : 
"  a  mere  man."  How  can  these  things  fit 
together  and  harmonize  so  that  one  and  the 
same  Person  may  be  the  greatest  Power,  and 
utter  weakness :  the  Highest  glory,  and  mere 
mortality  ?  These  things  do  not  meet  together 
in  one  and  the  same  Lord.  So  that  severing 
Him  for  worship  and  for  degradation,  on  one 
side,  you  may  do  Him  honour  as  you  like, 
and  on  the  other,  you  may  injure  Him  as  you 
like.  You  said  in  the  Creed  when  you  re- 
ceived the  Sacrament  of  true  Salvation  :  "  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  Very  God  of  Very  God, 
Being  of  one  substance  with  the  Father, 
Creator  of  the  worlds,  Maker  of  all  things." 
Where  are  you  alas !  Where  is  your  former 
self  ?  Where  is  that  faith  of  yours  ?  Where 
that  confession  ?  How  have  you  fallen  back 
'and  become  a  monstrosity  and  a  prodigy  ? 
What  folly,  what  madness  was  your  ruin  ? 
You  turned  the  God  of  all  power  and  might 
into  inanimate  material  and  a  lifeless  creation  : 
Your  faith  has  certainly  grown  in  time,  in  age, 
and  in  the  priesthood.  You  are  worse  as  an 
old  man  than  formerly  as  a  child :  worse  now 
as  a  veteran  than  as  a  tyro  :  worse  as  a  Bishop 
than  you  were  as  a  novice  :  nor  were  you  ever 
a  learner  after  you  had  begun  to  be  a  teacher. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

How  it  can  be  said  that  Christ  came  and  was  born  of  a 
Virgin. 

But  let  us  look  at  the  remainder  which 
follows.  As  then  the  Creed  says  :  "  The  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  Very  God  of  Very  God,  Being  of 
one  substance  with  the  Father  ;  By  whom  both 
the  worlds  were  framed,  and  all  things  were 
made,"  it  immediately  subjoins  in  closest  con- 
nexion the  following,  and  says :  "  Who  for  us 
came  and  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary."  He 
then,  who  is  Very  God,  who  is  of  one  sub- 
stance with  the  Father,  who  is  the  Maker  of 
all  things,  He,  I  repeat,  came  into  the  world 
and  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary;  as  the 
Apostle  Paul  says  :  "  But  when  the  fulness  of 
the  times  was  come,  God  sent  forth  His  Son, 
made  of  a  woman,  made  under  the  law." 1 
You  see  how  the  mysteries  of  the  Creed  corre- 
spond with  the  Holy  Scriptures.  The  Apostle 
declares  that  the  Son  of  Gcd  was  "sent  from 
the  Father :  "  The  Creed  affirms  that  He 
"  came."  For  it  certainly  follows  that  our 
faith  should  confess  that  He  has  "  come," 
whom  the  Apostle  had  taught  us  to  be  sent. 
Then  the  Apostle  says  :  "  Made  of  a  woman  :  " 
The  Creed,  "born  of  Mary."  And  so  you  see 
that  there  speaks  through  the  Creed  the  Scrip- 
ture itself,  from  which  the  Creed  acknow- 
ledges that  it  is  itself  derived.  But  when 
the  Apostle  says,  "made  of  a  woman,"  he 
rightly  enough  uses  "made"  for  "born,"  after 
the  manner  of  Holy  Scripture  in  which  "  made  " 
stands  for  "born:"  as  in  this  passage:  "In- 
stead of  thy  fathers  there  are  made  to  thee 
sons  :  "  2  or  this  :  "  Before  Abraham  was  made, 
I  am  ;  "  3  where  we  certainly  see  clearly  that 
He  meant  "  Before  he  was  bcrn,  I  am : " 
alluding  to  the  fact  of  his  birth  under  the 
term  "was  made,"  because  whatever  does  not 
need  to  be  made  has  the  very  reality  of  crea- 
tion. "Who,"  it  then  says,  "for  us  came  and 
was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary."  If  a  mere 
man  was  born  of  Mary,  how  can  it  be  said 
that  He  "  came  "  ?  For  no  one  "  comes  "  but 
He  who  has  it  in  Him  to  be  able  to  come. 
But  in  the  case  of  one  who  had  not  yet  re- 
ceived His  existence,  how  could  He  have  it  in 
Him  to  come.  You  see  then  how  by  the 
word  "  coming  "  it  is  shown  that  He  who  came 
was  already  in  existence  :  for  He  only  had  the 
power  to  come,  to  whom  there  could  be  the 
opportunity  of  coming,  from  the  fact  that  He 
was  already  existing.  But  a  mere  man  was 
certainly  not  in  existence  before  he  was  con- 
ceived, and  so  had  not  in  himself  the  power 


:  Gal.  iv.  4. 


2  Ps.  xliv.  (xlv.)  17. 


S.  John  viii. 


596 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


to  come.  It  is  clear  then  that  it  was  God  who 
came  :  to  whom  it  belongs  in  each  case  both 
to  be,  and  to  come.  For  certainly  He  came  be- 
cause He  was,  and  He  ever  was,  because  He 
could  ever  come. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Again  he  convicts  his  opponent  of  deadly  heresy  by  his  own 
confession. 

But  why  are  we  arguing  about  words,  when 
the  facts  are  clear  enough  ?  and  seeking  for  a 
determination  of  the  matter  from  the  terms 
of  the  Creed,  when  the  Creed  itself  deals  with 
the  question.  Let  us  repeat  the  confession  of 
the  Creed,  and  of  you  yourself  (for  yours  it  is 
as  well  as  the  Creed's,  for  you  made  it  yours 
by  confessing  it),  that  you  may  see  that  you 
have  departed  not  only  from  the  Creed  but 
from  yourself.  "  I  believe "  then,  says  the 
Creed,  "  In  one  only  true  God,  the  Father 
Almighty,  Maker  of  all  things  visible  and  in- 
visible :  And  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  His 
only  begotten  Son,  and  the  first-born  of  every 
creature  :  Begotten  of  Him  before  all  worlds 
and  not  made  ;  Very  God  of  Very  God  ;  Being 
of  one  substance  with  the  Father ;  By  whom 
both  the  worlds  were  framed,  and  aft  things 
were  made.  Who  for  us  came,  and  was  born 
of  the  Virgin  Mary."  "  For  us "  then  the 
Creed  says,  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  "  came  and 
was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  was  cruci- 
fied under  Pontius  Pilate  ;  and  was  -  buried, 
and  rose  again  according  to  the  Scriptures." 
The  Churches  are  not  ashamed  to  confess  this  : 
the  Apostles  were  not  ashamed  to  preach  it. 
You  yourself,  you,  I  say,  whose  every  utter- 
ance is  now  blasphemy,  you  who  now  deny 
everything,  you  did  not  deny  all  these  truths  : 
that  God  was  born ;  that  God  suffered,  that 
God  rose  again.  And  what  next  ?  Whither 
have  you  fallen  ?  What  have  you  become  ? 
To  what  are  you  reduced  ?  What  do  you  say  ? 
What  are  you  vomiting  forth  ?  What,  as  one 
says,  even  mad  Orestes  himself  would  swear 
to  be  the  words  of  a  madman.1  For  what  is 
it  that  you  say  ?  "  Who  then  is  the  Son  of 
God  who  was  born  of  the  Christotocos  ?  As 
for  instance  if  we  were  to  say  I  believe  in  God 
the  Word,  the  only  Son  of  God,  begotten  of 
His  Father,  Being  of  one  substance  with  the 
Father,  who  came  down  and  was  buried,  would 
not  our  ears  be  shocked  at  the  sound  ?  God 
dead  ?  "  And  again  :  "  Can  it  possibly  be,  you 
say,  that  He  who  was  begotten  before  all 
worlds,  should  be  born  a  second  time,  and  be 
God  ?  "  If  all  these  things  cannot  possibly 
be,  how  is  it  that  the  Creed  of  the  Churches 


1  Persius  Sat.  iii.  1.  116 
non  sanus  juret  Orestes." 


"quod  ipse  non  sani  esse  hominis 


says  that  they  did  happen  ?  How  is  it  that 
you  yourself  said  that  they  did  ?  For  let  us 
compare  what  you  now  say  with  what  you 
formerly  said.  Once  you  said  :  "  I  believe  in 
God  the  Father  Almighty ;  and  in  Jesus  Christ 
His  Son,  Very  God  of  Very  God ;  Being  of 
one  substance  with  the  Father ;  who  for  us 
came  and  was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary ;  and 
was  crucified  under  Pontius  Pilate  ;  and  was 
buried."  But  now  what  is  it  that  you  say? 
"If  we  should  say:  I  believe  in  God  the 
Word,  the  only  Son  of  God,  Begotten  of  His 
Father ;  Being  of  one  substance  with  the 
Father,  who  came  down  and  was  buried,  would 
not  our  ears  be  shocked  at  the  sound?  "  The 
bitterness  indeed  and  blasphemy  of  your  words 
might  drive  us  to  a  furious  and  ferocious  attack 
in  answer ;  but  we  must  somewhat  curb  the 
reins  of  our  pious  sorrow. 


CHAPTER   X. 

He  inveighs  against  him  because  though  he  has  forsaken  the 
Catholic  religion,  he  nevertheless  presumes  to  teach  in  the 
Church,  to  sacrifice,  and  to  give  decisions. 

I  appeal  then  to  you,  to  you  yourself,  I  say. 
Tell  me,  I  pray,  if  any  Jew  or  pagan  denied 
the  Creed  of  the  Catholic  faith,  should  you 
think  that  we  ought  to  listen  to  him  ?  Most 
certainly  not.  What  if  a  heretic  or  an  apostate 
does  the  same  ?  Still  less  should  we  listen  to 
him,  for  it  is  worse  for  a  man  to  forsake  the 
truth  which  he  has  known,  than  to  deny  it 
without  ever  having  known  it.  We  see  then 
two  men  in  you  :  a  Catholic  and  an  apostate  : 
first  a  Catholic,  afterwards  an  apostate.  De- 
termine for  yourself  which  you  think  we  ought 
to  follow :  for  you  cannot  press  the  claims  of 
the  one  in  yourself  without  condemning  the 
other.  Do  you  say  then  that  it  is  your  former 
self  which  is  to  be  condemned :  and  that  you 
condemn  the  Catholic  Creed,  and  the  confes- 
sion and  faith  of  all  men  ?  And  what  then  ? 
O  shameful  deed!  O  wi  etched  grief!  What 
are  you  doing  in  the  Catholic  Church,  you 
preventer  of  Catholics  ?  Why  is  it  that  you, 
who  have  denied  the  faith  of  the  people,  are 
still  polluting  the  meetings  of  the  people : 
And  above  all  venture  to  stand  at  the  altar,  to 
mount  the  pulpit,  and  show  your  impudent  and 
treacherous  face  to  God's  people  —  to  occupy 
the  Bishop's  throne,  to  exercise  the  priesthood, 
to  set  yourself  up  as  a  teacher  ?'  To  teach 
the  Christians  what  ?  Not  to  believe  in  Christ : 
to  deny  that  He  in  whose  Divine  temple  they 
are,  is  God.2     And  after  all  this,  O  folly !  O 


2  Petschenig's  text  is  as  follows  :  Ut  quid  doceas  Christ  ianos  ? 
Christum  non  credere,  cum  ipsum  in  cujus  Dei  templo  shit  Deum 
negare.  Gaza^us  edits :  Ut  quid  daces  Christianas,  Christum  non 
credens  ?     Cum  ipsum,  in  cujus  Dei  templo  sunt,  Deum  neges. 


BOOK   VI. 


597 


madness  !  you  fancy  that  you  are  a  teacher 
and  a  Bishop,  while  (O  wretched  blindness) 
you  are  denying  His  Divinity,  His  Divinity 
(I  repeat  it)  whose  priest  you  claim  to  be. 
But  we  are  carried  away  by  our  grief.  What 
then  says  the  Creed  ?  or  what  did  you  yourself 
say  in  the  Creed  ?  Surely  "  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  Very  God  of  Very  God ;  Being  of  one 
substance  with  the  Father ;  By  whom  the 
worlds  were  created  and  all  things  made  :  " 
and  that  this  same  Person  "  for  us  came  and 
was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary."  Since  then 
you  said  that  God  was  born  of  Mary,  how  can 
you  deny  that  Mary  was  the  mother  of  God  ? 
Since  you  said  that  God  came,  how  can  you 
deny  that  He  is  God  who  has  come  ?  You 
said  in  the  Creed  :  "  I  believe  in  Jesus  Christ 
the  Son  of  God :  I  believe  in  Very  God  of 
Very  God,  of  one  substance  with  the  Father  : 
who  for  us  came  and  was  born  of  the  Virgin 
Mary  ;  and  was  crucified  under  Pontius  Pilate  ; 
and  was  buried."  But  now  you  say  :  "  If  we 
should  say,  I  believe  in  God  the  Word,  the 
only  Son  of  God,  Begotten  of  the  Father,  of 
one  substance  with  the  Father ;  who  came 
and  was  buried,  would  not  our  ears  be  shocked 
at  the  sound  ?  "  Do  you  see  then  how  you  are 
utterly  destroying  and  stamping  out  the  whole 
faith  of  the  Catholic  Creed  and  the  Catholic 
mystery  ?  "  O  Sin,  O  monstrosity,  to  be 
driven  away,"  as  one  says, 1  "  to  the  utmost 
parts  of  the  earth :  "  for  this  is  more  truly  said 
of  you,  that  you  may  forsooth  go  into  that  soli- 
tude where  you  will  not  be  able  to  find  anyone 
to  ruin.  You  think  then  that  the  faith  of  our 
salvation,  and  the  mystery  of  the  Church's 
hope  is  a  shock  to  your  ears  and  hearing. 
And  how  was  it  that  formerly  when  you  were 
hastening  to  be  baptized,  you  heard  these 
mysteries  with  unharmed  ears  ?  How  was  it 
that  when  the  teachers  of  the  church  were  in- 
structing you  your  ears  were  not  damaged  ? 
You  certainly  at  that  time  did  your  duty  with- 
out any  double  shock  to  your  mouth  and  ears ; 
when  you  repeated  what  you  heard  from 
others,  and  as  the  speaker  yourself  heard 
yourself  speaking.  Where  then  were  these 
injuries  to  your  ears  ?  Where  these  shocks  to 
your  hearing  ?  Why  did  you  not  contradict 
'  and  cry  out  against  it  ?  But  indeed  you  are 
at  your  will  and  fancy,  when  you  please,  a  dis- 
ciple ;  and  when  you  please,  the  Church's 
enemy  :  when  you  please  a  Catholic,  and  when 
you  please  an  apostate.  A  worthy  leader 
indeed,  to  draw  Churches  after  you,  to  what- 
evar  side  you  attach  yourself ;  to  make  your 
will  the  law  of  our  life,  and  to  change  man- 
kind as  you  yourself  change,  that,  as  you  will 


1  Cicero  in  Verr.  Act.  II.  Book  1.  xv.  40. 


not  be  what  all  others  are,  they  may  be  what 
you  want ! 2  A  splendid  authority  indeed,  that 
because  you  are  not  now  what  you  used  to  be, 
the  world  must  cease  to  be  what  it  formerly 
was  ! 


CHAPTER  XL 

He  removes  the  silent  objection  of  heretics  who  want  to  recant 
the  profession  of  their  faith  made  in  childhood. 

But  perhaps  you  say  that  you  were  a  baby 
when  you  were  regenerated,  and  so  were  not 
then  able  to  think  or  to  contradict.  It  is  true  : 
that  your  infancy  did  prevent  you  from  con- 
tradicting, when  if  you  had  been  a  man  you 
would  have  died  for  contradicting.  For  what 
if  when  in  that  most  faithful  and  devout  Church 
of  Christ  the  priest  delivered  the  Creed 3  to  the 
Catechumen  and  the  attesting  people,  you  had 
tried  to  hold  your  tongue  at  any  point,  or  to 
contradict  ?  Perhaps  you  would  have  been 
heard,  and  not  sent  forth  at  once  like  some 
new  kind  of  monster  or  prodigy  as  a  plague 
to  be  expelled.  Not  because  that  most  earnest 
and  religious  people  of  God  has  any  wish  to 
be  stained  with  the  blood  of  even  the  worst  of 
men  :  but  because  especially  in  great  cities  the 
people  inflamed  with  the  love  of  God  cannot 
restrain  the  ardour  of  their  faith  when  they  see 
anyone  rise  up  against  their  God.  But  be  it 
so.  As  a  baby,  if  it  be  so,  you  could  not  con- 
tradict and  deny  the  Creed.  Why  did  you 
hold  your  tongue  when  you  were  older  and 
stronger.  At  any  rate  you  grew  up,  and  be- 
came a  man,  and  were  placed  in  the  ministry 
of  the  Church.  Through  all  these  years, 
through  all  the  steps  of  office  and  dignity,  did 
you  never  understand  the  faith  which  you 
taught  so  long  before  ?  At  any  rate  you  knew 
that  you  were  His  deacon  and  priest.  If  the 
rule  of  salvation  was  a  difficulty  to  you,  why 
did  you  undertake  the  honour  of  that,  of  which 
you  disliked  the  faith  ?  But  indeed  you  were 
a   far   sighted   and   simply   devout   man,   who 


2  Ut,  quia  tu  esse  nolis  quod  omnes  sint,  omnes  sint,  quod  tu  velis 
(Petschenis).  Gazsus  has:  Et  quia  tu  esse  nolis  quod  omnes  sunt, 
quod  tu  velis :  a  text  which  he  confesses  must  be  corrupt. 

3  The  reference  is  the  ceremony  known  as  the  Traditio  Symboli, 
which  is  thus  described  by  Professor  Lumby :  "  The  practice  of  the 
early  church  in  the  admission  of  converts  to  baptism  seems  to  have 
been  of  this  nature.  For  some  period  previous  to  their  baptism 
(the  usual  seasons  for  which  were  Easter  and  Pentecost)  the  candi- 
dates for  admission  thereto  were  trained  in  the  doctrines  of  the  faith 
by  the  presbvters.  A  few  days  before  they  were  to  be  baptized  (the 
number  of  days  varying 'at  different  periods)  the  Creed  was  delivered 
to  them  accompanied  with  a  sermon.  This  ceremony  was  known 
as  Traditio  Symboli,  the  delivery  of  the  Creed.  At  the  time  of 
Baptism  each  candidate  was  interrogated  upon  the  articles  of  the 
Creed  which  he  had  received,  and  was  to  return  an  answer  in  the 
words  which  had  been  given  to  him.  This  was  known  as  Redditio 
Symboli.  the  repetition  of  the  Creed,  and  Baptism  was  the  only  oc- 
casion on  which  the  Creed  was  introduced  into  any  public  service  of 
the  Church."     History  of  the  Creeds,  pp.  it,  12. 


598 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


wished  so  to  balance  yourself  between  the  two, 
as  to  maintain  both  your  wicked  blasphemy, 
and  the  honour  of  Catholicity  ! 


CHAPTER   XII. 

Christ  crucified  is  an  offence  and  foolishness  to  those  who 
declare  that  He  was  a  mere  man. 

The  shock  then  to  your  hearing  and  ears  is 
that  God  was  born,  and  God  suffered.  And 
where  is  that  saying  of  yours,  O  Apostle  Paul : 
"  But  we  preach  Christ  crucified,  to  the  Jews 
indeed  a  stumbling  block,  but  to  the  Gentiles 
foolishness  :  but  to  them  that  are  called,  both 
Jews  and  Greeks,  Christ  the  Power  of  God  and 
the  Wisdom  of  God."  x  What  is  the  Wisdom 
and  Power  of  God  ?  Certainly  it  is  God.  But 
he  preaches  Christ  who  was  crucified,  as  the 
Power  and  Wisdom  of  God.  If  then  Christ 
is  without  any  doubt  the  Wisdom  of  God,  He 
is  therefore  without  any  doubt  God.  "  We," 
then,  he  says,  "  preach  Christ  crucified,  to  the 
Jews  indeed  a  stumbling  block,  but  to  the  Gen- 
tiles foolishness."  And  so  the  Lord's  cross, 
which  was  foolishness  to  the  Gentiles  and  a 
stumbling  block  to  the  Jews  is  both  together 
to  you.  Nor  indeed  is  there  any  greater  fool- 
ishness than  not  to  believe,  or  any  greater 
stumbling  block  than  to  refuse  to  listen. 
Their  ears  were  wounded  then  by  the  preach- 
ing and  the  passion  of  God,  just  as  yours  are 
wounded  now.  They  thought  as  you  think 
that  this  shocked  their  ears.  And  hence  it 
was  that  when  the  Apostle  was  preaching 
Christ  as  God,  at  the  name  of  our  God  and 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  they  stopped  the  ears  in 
their  head,  as  you  stop  the  ears  of  your  under- 
standing. The  sin  of  both  of  you  in  this  mat- 
ter might  seem  to  be  equal,  were  it  not  that 
your  fault  is  the  greater,  because  they  denied 
Him,  in  whom  the  passion  still  showed  the 
manhood,2  while  you  deny  Him,  whom  the 
resurrection  has  already  proved  to  be  God. 
And  so  they  were  persecuting  Him  on  the 
earth,  whom  you  are  persecuting  even  in 
heaven.  And  not  only  so,  but  this  is  more 
cruel  and  wicked,  because  they  denied  Him  in 
ignorance,  you  deny  Him  after  having  received 
the  faith :  they  not  knowing  the  Lord,  you  when 
you  have  confessed  Him  as  God :  they  under 
cover  of  zeal  for  the  law,  you  under  the  cloke 
of  your  Bishopric :  they  denied  Him  to  whom 
they  thought  that  they  were  strangers,  you 
deny  Him  whose  priest  you  are.  O  unworthy 
act,  and  one  never  heard  of  before  !  You  per- 
secute and  attack  the  very  One,  whose  office 
you  are  still  holding. 


1  i  Cor.  i.  23,  24. 


2  Homo. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

He  replies  to  the  objection  in  which  they  say  that  the  child 
born  3  ought  to  be  of  one  substance  with  the  mother. 

But  indeed  in  your  deceit  and  blasphemy 
you  use  a  grand  argument  for  denying  and 
attacking  the  Lord  God,  when  you  say  that 
"  the  child  born  ought  to  be  of  one  substance 
with  the  mother."  4  I  do  not  entirely  admit 
it,  and  maintain  that  in  the  matter  of  the  birth 
of  God  it  would  not  be  observed  ;  for  the  birth 
was  not  so  much  the  work  of  her  who  bore 
Him  as  of  her  Son,  and  He  was  born  as  He 
willed,  whose  doing  it  was  that  He  was  born. 
Next,  if  you  say  that  the  child  born  ought  to 
be  of  one  substance  with  the  parent,  I  affirm 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  of  one  sub- 
stance with  His  Father,  and  also  with  His 
mother.  For  in  accordance  with  the  differ- 
ence of  the  Persons  He  showed  a  likeness  to 
each  parent.  For  according  to  His  Divinity 
He  was  of  one  substance  with  the  Father  : 
but  according  to  the  flesh  He  was  of  one  sub- 
stance with  His  mother.  Not  that  it  was  one 
Person  who  was  of  one  substance  with  the 
Father,  and  another  who  was  of  one  substance 
with  His  mother,  but  because  the  same  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  both  born  as  man,  and  also  being 
God,  had  in  Him  the  properties  of  each  parent, 
and  in  that  He  was  man  He  showed  a  likeness 
to  His  human  mother,  and  in  that  He  was 
God  He  possessed  the  very  nature  of  God  the 
Father. 


CHARTER    XIV. 


He  compares  this  erroneous  view  with  the  teaching  of  the 
Pelasnans. 


Otherwise  if  Christ  who  was  born  of  Mary 
is  not  the  same  Person  as  He  who  is  of  God, 
you  certainly  make  two  Christs ;  after  the 
manner  of  that  abominable  error  of-  Pelagius, 
which  in  asserting  that  a  mere  man  was  born 
of  the  Virgin,  said  that  He  was  the  teacher 
rather  than  the  redeemer  of  mankind ;  for  He 
did  not  bring  to  men  redemption  of  life  but 
only  an  example  of  how  to  live,  i.e.,  that  by 
following  Him  men  should  do  the  same  sort 
of  things  and  so  come  to  a  similar  state. 
Your  blasphemy  then  has  but  one  source,  and 
the  root  of  the  errors  is  one  and  the  same. 
They  maintain  that  a  mere  man  was  born  of 
Mary :  you  maintain  the  same.  They  sever 
the  Son  of  man  from  the  Son  of  God :  you  do 
the  same.  They  say  that  the  Saviour  was 
made  the  Christ  by  His  baptism  :  you  say  that 
in  baptism   He  became  the  Temple  of  God. 


Nativitas. 


i  HomooKsios  par ■ietUi  debet  esse  nativitas. 


BOOK   VI. 


599 


They  do  not  deny  that  He  became  God  after 
His  Passion  :  you  deny  Him  even  after  His 
ascension.  In  one  point  only  therefore  your 
perverseness  goes  beyond  theirs,  for  they  seem 
to  blaspheme  the  Lord  on  earth,  and  you  even 
in  heaven.  We  do  not  deny  that  you  have 
beaten  and  outstripped  those  whom  you  are 
copying.  They  at  last  cease  to  deny  God  ; 
you  never  do.  Although  theirs  must  not  alto- 
gether be  deemed  a  true  confession,  as  they 
only  allow  the  glory  of  Divinity  to  the  Saviour 
after  His  Passion,  and  while  they  deny  that 
He  was  God  before  this,  only  confess  it  after- 
wards :  for,  as  it  seems  to  me,  one  who  denies 
some  part  in  regard  to  God,  denies  Him  alto- 
gether :  and  one  who  does  not  confess  that 
He  ever  existed,  denies  Him  forever.  Just  as 
you  also,  even  if  you  were  to  admit  that  now 
in  the  heavens  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  was 
born  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  is  God,  would  not 
truly  confess  Him  unless  you  admitted  that 
He  was  always  God.  But  indeed  you  do  not 
want  in  any  point  to  change  or  vary  your 
opinion.  For  you  assert  that  He  whom  you 
speak  of  as  born  a  mere  man,  is  still  at  the 
present  time  not  God.  O  novel  and  marvel- 
lous blasphemy,  though  with  the  heretics  you 
assert  Him  to  be  man,  you  do  not  with  the 
heretics  confess  Him  to  be  God ! 


CHAPTER   XV. 

He  shows  that  those  who  patronize  this  false  teaching 
acknowledge  two  Christs. 

But  still,  I  had  begun  to  say,  that  as  you 
certainly  make  out  two  Christs  this  very  mat- 
ter must  be  illustrated  and  made  clear.  Tell 
me,  I  pray  you,  you  who  sever  Christ  from  the 
Son  of  God,  how  can  you  confess  in  the  Creed 
that  Christ  was  begotten  of  God  ?  For  you 
say  :  "  I  believe  in  God  the  Father,  and  in 
Jesus  Christ  His  Son."  Here  then  you  have 
Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  God  :  but  you  say  that 
it  was  not  the  same  Son  of  God  who  was  born 
of  Mary.  Therefore  there  is  one  Christ  of 
God,  and  another  of  Mary.  In  your  view  then 
there  are  two  Christs.  For,  though  in  the 
Creed  you  do  not  deny  Christ,  you  say  that  the 
Christ  of  Mary  is  another  than  the  one  whom 
you  confess  in  the  Creed.  But  perhaps  you 
say  that  Christ  was  not  begotten  of  God :  how 
then  do  you  say  in  the  Creed  :  "I  believe  in 
Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  God  ? "  You  must 
then  either  deny  the  Creed  or  confess  that 
Christ  is  the  Son  of  God.  But  if  you  confess 
in  the  Creed  that  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God, 
you  must  also  confess  that  the  same  Christ, 
the  Son  of  God,  is  of  Mary.     Or  if  you  make 


out  another  Christ  of  Mary,  you  certainly  make 
the  blasphemous  assertion  that  there  are  two 
Christs. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Me  shows  further  that  this  teaching  is  destructive  of  the  con- 
fession of  the  Trinity. 

But  still  even  if  your  obstinacy  and  dis- 
honesty are  not  restrained  by  this  faith  of  the 
Creed,  are  you  not,  I  ask  you,  overwhelmed 
by  an  appeal  to  reason  and  the  light  of  truth  ? 
Tell  me,  I  ask,  whoever  you  are,  O  you  here- 
tic—  At  least  there  is  a  Trinity,  in  which  we 
believe,  and  which  we  confess  :  Father  and 
Son  and  Holy  Ghost.  Of  the  Glory  of  the 
Father  and  the  Spirit  there  is  no  question. 
You  are  slandering  the  Son,  because  you  say 
that  it  was  not  the  same  Person  who  was  born 
of  Mary,  as  He  who  was  begotten  of  God  the 
Father.  Tell  me  then :  if  you  do  not  deny 
that  the  only  Son  of  God  was  begotten  of  God, 
whom  do  you  make  out  that  He  is  who  was 
born  of  Mary  ?  You  say  "  a  mere  man,"  ac- 
cording to  that  which  He  Himself  said: 
"That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh,  is  flesh."1 
But  He  cannot  be  called  a  mere  man  who  was 
begotten  not  after  the  law  of  human  creation 
alone.  "  For  that  which  is  conceived  in  her," 
said  the  angel,  "  is  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  2  And 
this  even  you  dare  not  deny,  though  you  deny 
almost  all  the  mysteries  of  salvation.  Since 
then  He  was  born  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
cannot  be  termed  a  mere  man,  as  He  was 
conceived  by  the  inspiration  of  God,  if  it  is 
not  He  who,  as  the  Apostle  says.  "  emptied 
Himself  by  taking  the  foim  of  a  servant,"  and 
"  the  word  was  made  flesh,"'  and  "  humbled 
Himself  by  becoming  obedient  unto  death," 
and  "who  for  our  sakes,  though  He  was  rich, 
became  poor,"3  tell  me,  then,  who  He  is, 
who  was  born  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  was 
conceived  by  the  overshadowing  of  Gcd  ? 
You  say  that  He  is  certainly  a  different  Per- 
son. Then  there  are  two  Persons ;  viz.,  the 
one,  who  was  begotten  of  God  the  Father  in 
heaven  ;  and  the  other  who  was  conceived  of 
Mary,  by  the  inspiration  of  Gcd.  And  thus 
there  is  a  fourth  Person  whcm  you  introduce, 
and  whom  (though  in  words  you  term  Him  a 
mere  man)  you  assert  actually  not  to  have 
been  a  mere  man,  since  you  allow  (not  how- 
ever as  you  ought)  that  He  is  to  be  honoured, 
worshipped,  and  adored.  Since  then  the  Son 
of  God  who  was  begotten  of  the  Father  is 
certainly  to  be  worshipped,  and  He  who  was 
conceived  of  Mary  by  the  Holy  Ghost  is  to 

1  St.  John  iii.  6.  2  S.  Matt.  i.  20. 

3  Phil.  ii.  7,  8;  S.  John  i    14;  2  Cor.  viii.  9. 


6oo 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


be  worshipped,  you  make  two  Persons  to  be 
honoured  and  venerated,  whom  you  so  far 
sever  from  each  other,  as  to  venerate  each 
with  an  honour  special  and  peculiar  to  Him. 
And  thus  you  see  that  by  denying  and  by 
severing  from  Himself  the  Son  of  God,  you 
destroy,  as  far  as  you  can,  the  whole  mystery 
of  the  divinity.  For  while  you  are  endeavour-, 
ing  to  introduce  a  fourth  Person  into  the  Trin- 
ity,1 you  see  that  you  have  utterly  denied  the 
whole  Trinity. 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

Those  who  are  under  an  error  in  one  point  of  the  Catholic 
religion,  lose  the  whole  faith,  and  all  the  value  of  the  faith. 

And  since  this  is  so,  in  denying  that  Jesus 
Christ  the  Son  of  God  is  one,  you  have 
denied  everything.  For  the  scheme  of  the 
mysteries  of  the  Church  and  the  Catholic  faith 
is  such  that  one  who  denies  one  portion  of  the 
Sacred  Mystery  cannot  confess  the  other.  For 
all  parts  of  it  are  so  bound  up  and  united  to- 
gether that  one  cannot  stand  without  the  other, 
and  if  a  man  denies  one  point  out  of  the  whole 
number,  it  is  of  no  use  for  him  to  believe  all 
the  others.  And  so  if  you  deny  that  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  is  God,  the  result  is  that  in  deny- 
ing the  Son  of  God  you  deny  the  Father  also. 
For  as  St.  John  says :  "  He  who  hath  not  the 
Son  hath  not  the  Father ;  but  he  who  hath  the 
Son  hath  the  Father  also."  a  By  denying  then 
Him  who  was  begotten  you  deny  also  Him 
who  begat.  By  denying  also  that  the  Son  of 
God  was  born  in  the  flesh,  you  are  led  also  to 
deny  that  He  was  born  in  the  Spirit,  for  it  is 
the  same  Person  who  was  born  in  the  flesh 
who  was  first  born  in  the  Spirit.  If  you  do 
not  believe  that  He  was  born  in  the  flesh,  the 
result  is  that  you  do  not  believe  that  He  suf- 
fered. If  you  do  not  believe  in  His  Passion 
what  remains  for  you  but  to  deny  His  resur- 
rection ?  For  faith  in  one  raised  springs  out 
of  faith  in  one  dead.  Nor  can  the  reference 
to  the  resurrection  keep  its  place,  unless  be- 
lief in  His  death  has  first  preceded  it.  By 
denying  then  his  Passion  and  Death,  you  deny 
also  his  resurrection  from  hell.3  It  follows 
certainly  that  you  deny  His  ascension  also, 
for  there  cannot  be  the  ascension  without 
the  resurrection.  And  if  we  do  not  believe 
that  He  rose  again,  we  cannot  either  believe 
that  He  ascended  :  as  the  Apostle  says,  "  For 
He  that  descended  is  the  same  also  that  as- 
cended." 4  Thus,  so  far  as  you  are  concerned, 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  did  not  rise  from  hell, 
nor  ascend  into  heaven,  nor  sit  at  the  risrht 


1  Cf.  Augustine,  Tr.  7S  in  Joan. 

2  1  John  ii.  23. 


3  nb  inferis. 

4  Eph.  iv.  10. 


hand  of  God  the  Father,  nor  will  He  come  at 
that  day  of  judgment  which  we  look  for,  nor 
will  He  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

He  directs  his  discourse  upon  his  antagonist  with  whom  he  is 
disputing,  and  begs  him  to  return  to  his  senses.  The  sacra- 
ment of  reconciliation  is  necessary  for  the  lapsed  for  their 
salvation. 

And  so,  you  wretched,  insane,  obstinate  crea- 
ture, you  see  that  you  have  utterly  upset  the 
whole  faith  of  the  Creed,  and  all  that  is  val- 
uable in  our  hope  and  the  mysteries.  And 
yet  you  still  dare  to  remain  in  the  Church  : 
and  imagine  that  you  are  a  priest,  though  you 
have  denied  everything  by  which  you  came  to 
be  a  priest.  Return  then  to  the  right  way, 
and  recover  your  former  mind,  return  to  your 
senses  if  you  ever  had  any.  Come  to  your- 
self, if  there  ever  was  in  you  a  self  to  which 
you  can  come  back.  Acknowledge  the  sacra- 
ments of  your  salvation,  by  which  you  were 
initiated  and  regenerated.  They  are  of  no 
less  use  to  you  now  than  they  were  then ;  for 
they  can  now  regenerate  you  by  penance,  as 
they  then  gave  you  birth  through  the  Font. 
Hold  fast  the  full  scheme  of  the  Creed. 
Hold  the  entire  truth  of  the  faith.  Believe 
in  God  the  Father  :  believe  in  God  the  Son  : 
in  one  who  begat  and  one  who  was  begotten, 
the  Lord  of  all,  Jesus  Christ ;  Being  of  one 
substance  with  the  Father;  Begotten  in  His 
divinity  ;  born  in  the  flesh  :  of  twofold  birth, 
yet  of  but  one  glory ;  who  Himself  creator  of 
all  things,  was  begotten  of  the  Father,  and 
was  afterwards  born  of  the  Vinrin. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

That  the  birth  of  Christ  in  time  diminished  nothing  of  the 
glory  and  power  of  His  Deity. 

For  the  fact  that  He  came  of  the  flesh  and 
in  the  flesh,  has  reference  to  His  birth,  and 
involves  no  diminution  in  Him  :  and  He  was 
simply  born,  not  changed  for  the  worse.  5  For 
though,  still  remaining  in  the  form  of  God,  He 
took  upon  Him  the  form  of  a  servant,  yet  the 
weakness  of  His  human  constitution  had  no 
effect  on  His  nature  as  God  :  but  while  the 
power  of  His  Deity  remained  whole  and  unim- 
paired, all  that  took  place  in  His  human  flesh 
was  an  advancement  of  His  manhood  and  no 
diminution  of  His  glory.  For  when  God  was 
born  in  human  flesh,  Fie  was  not  born  in 
human  flesh  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  remain 

0  Demutatus. 


BOOK   VI. 


60 1 


Divine  in  Himself,  but  so  that,  while  the  God- 
head remained  as  before,  God  might  become 
man.  And  so  Martha  while  she  saw  with  her 
bodily  eyes  the  man,  confessed  Him  by  spiri- 
tual sight  to  be  God,  saying,  "  Yea,  Lord,  I  have 
believed  that  Thou  art  the  Christ  the  Son  of 
the  living  God,  who  art  come  into  the  world."  x 
So  Peter,  owing  to  the  Holy  Spirit's  revelation, 
while  externally  he  beheld  the  Son  of  man, 
yet  proclaimed  Him  to  be  the  Son  of  God, 
saying,  "Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 
living  God."  2  So  Thomas  when  he  touched 
the  flesh,  believed  that  he  had  touched  God. 
saying,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God."  3  For  they 
all  confessed  but  one  Christ,  so  as  not  to  make 
Him  two.  Do  you  therefore  believe  Him  ; 
and  so  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  the  Lord  of 
all,  both  only  Begotten  and  first-born,  is  both 
Creator  of  all  things  and  Preserver  of  men ; 
and  that  the  same  Person  is  first  the  framer 
of  the  whole  world,  and  afterwards  redeemer  of 
mankind  ?  Who  still  remaining  with  the 
Father  and  in  the  Father,  Being  of  one  sub- 
stance with  the  Father,  did  (as  the  Apostle 
says),  "  Take  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  hum- 
ble Himself  even  unto  death,  the  death  of  the 
Cross :  "  4  and  (as  the  Creed  says)  "  was  born  of 
the  Virgin  Mary,  crucified  under  Pontius  Pi- 
late, and  was  buried.  And  the  third  day  He 
rose  again  according  to  the  Scriptures ;  and 
ascended  into  heaven  ;  and  shall  come  again  to 
judge  both  the  quick  and  the  dead."  This  is 
our  faith  ;  this  is  our  salvation  :  to  believe  that 
our  God  and  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  one  and  the 
same  before  all  things  and  after  all  things. 
For,  as  it  is  written,  "  Jesus  Christ  is  yester- 
day and  today  and  the  same  for  ever."  5  For 
"  yesterday "  signifies  all  time  past,  wherein, 
before  the  beginning,  He  was  begotten  of  the 
Father.  "  Today  "  covers  the  time  of  this 
world,  in  which  He  was  again  born  of  the  Vir- 
gin, suffered,  and  rose  again.  But  by  the  ex- 
pression the  same  "  for  ever  "  is  denoted  the 
whole  boundless  eternity  to  come. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

He  shows  from  what  has  been  said  that  we  do  not  mean  that 
God  was  mortal  or  of  flesh  before  the  worlds,  although  Christ, 
'     who  is  God  from  eternity  and  was  made  man  in  time,  is  but 
one  Person. 

But  perhaps  you  will  say:  If.  I  admit  that 
the  same  Person  was  in  the  end  of  time  born 
of  a  Virgin,  who  was  begotten  before  all  things 
of  God  the  Father,  I  shall  imply  that  be- 
fore the  beginning  of  the  world  God  was  in 
the  flesh,  as   I   say  that  He  was  afterwards 


1  S.  Tohn  xi.  27. 

2  S.  Matt.  xvi.  16. 


3  S.  John  xx.  28. 

4  Phil.  ii.  7,  8. 


6  Heb.  xiii.  8. 


man,  who  was  always  God :  and  so  I  shall  say 
that  that  man  who  was  afterwards  born,  had 
always  existed.  I  do  not  want  you  to  be  con- 
fused by  this  blind  ignorance,  and  these  ob- 
scure misconceptions,  so  as  to  fancy  that  I  am 
maintaining  that  the  manhood 6  which  was 
born  of  Mar)'  had  existed  before  the  beginning 
of  things,  or  asserting  that  God  was  always  in 
a  bodily  form  before  the  commencement  of  the 
world.  I  do  not  say,  I  repeat  it,  I  do  not  say 
that  the  manhood  was  in  Cod  before  it  was 
born  :  but  that  God  was  afterwards  born  in  the 
manhood.  For  that  flesh  which  was  born  of 
the  flesh  of  the  Virgin  had  not  always  existed  : 
but  God  who  always  was,  came  in  the  flesh  of 
man  of  the  flesh  of  the  Virgin.  For  "the 
Word  was  made  flesh,"  and  did  not  manifest 
flesh  together  with  Himself :  but  in  the  glory 
of  Divinity  joined  Himself  to  human  flesh. 
For  tell  me  when  or  where  the  WTord  was  made 
flesh,  or  where  Pie  emptied  Himself  by  taking 
the  form  of  a  servant:  or  where  He  became 
poor,  though  He  was  rich  ?  Where  but  in  the 
holy  womb  of  the  Virgin,  where  at  His  Incar- 
nation, the  Word  of  God  is  said  to  have  been 
made  flesh,  at  His  birth  He  truly  took  the 
form  of  a  servant ;  and  when  He  is  in  human 
nature  nailed  to  the  Cross,  He  became  poor, 
and  was  made  poor  in  His  sufferings  in  the 
flesh,  though  He  was  rich  in  His  Divine  glory  ? 
Otherwise  if,  as  you  say,  at  some  later  period 
the  Deity  entered  into  Him  as  into  one  of  the 
Prophets  and  saints,  then  "  the  Word  was  made 
flesh"  in  those  men  also  in  whom  He  vouch- 
safed to  dwell :  then  in  each  one  of  them  He 
emptied  Himself  and  took  upon  Him  the  form 
of  a  servant.  And  thus  there  is  nothing  new 
or  unique  in  Christ.  Neither  His  conception, 
nor  His  birth  nor  His  death  had  anything 
special  or  miraculous  about  it. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

The  authority  of  Holy  Scripture  teaches  that  Christ  existed 
from  all  eternity. 

And  yet  to  return  to  what  we  said  before, 
though  all  these  things  are  so,  as  we  have 
stated :  how  do  we  read  that  Jesus  Christ 
(whom  you  assert  to  be  a  mere  man)  was  ever 
existing  even  before  His  birth  of  a  Virgin,  and 
how  is  He  proclaimed  by  prophets  and  apos- 
tles as  God  even  before  the  worlds  ?  As  Paul 
says :  "  One  Lord  Jesus,  through  whom  are 
all  things."  7  And  elsewhere  he  says  :  "  For 
in  Christ  were  created  all  things  in  heaven  and 
on  earth,  both  visible   and  invisible."  8     The 


6  Hominem. 


7  1  Cor.  viii.  6. 


8  Col.  i.  16. 


602 


THE   SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


Creed  too,  which  is  framed  both  by  human  and 
Divine  authority,  says :  "  I  believe  in  God  the 
Father,  and  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  His  Son." 
And  after  other  clauses :  "  Very  God  of  Very 
God ;  by  whom  both  the  worlds  were  framed 
and  all  things  were  made."  And  further: 
"  Who  for  us  came  and  was  born  of  the  Virgin 
Mary,  and  was  crucified,  and  was  buried." 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

The  hypostatic  union  enables  us  to  ascribe  to  God  what 
belongs  to  the  flesh  in  Christ. 

How  then  is  Christ  (whom  you  term  a  mere 
man)  proclaimed  in  Holy  Scripture  to  be  God 
without  beginning,  if  by  our  own  confession 
the  Lord's  manhood1  did  not  exist  before  His 
birth  and  conception  of  a  Virgin  ?  And  how 
can  we  read  of  so  close  a  union  of  man  and 
God,  as  to  make  it  appear  that  man  was  ever 
co-eternal  with  God,  and  that  afterwards  God 
suffered  with  man :  whereas  we  cannot  believe 
that  man  can  be  without  beginning  or  that 
God  can  suffer  ?  It  is  this  which  we  estab- 
lished in  our  previous  writings  ;  viz.,  that  God 
being  joined  to  manhood,'2  i.e.,  to  His  own 
body,  does  not  allow  any  separation  to  be 
made  in  men's  thoughts  between  man  and 
God.  Nor  will  He  permit  anyone  to  hold 
that  there  is  one  Person  of  the  Son  of  man, 
and  another  Person  of  the  Son  of  God.  But 
in  all  the  holy  Scriptures  He  joins  together 
and  as  it  were  incorporates  in  the  Godhead, 
the  Lord's  manhood,3  so  that  no  one  can  sever 
man  from  God  in  time,  nor  God  from  man  at 
His  Passion.  For  if  you  regard  Him  in  time, 
you  will  find  that  the  Son  of  man  is  ever  with 
the  Son  of  God.  If  you  take  note  of  His  Pas- 
sion, you  will  find  that  the  Son  of  God  is  ever 
with  the  Son  of  man,  and  that  Christ  the  Son 
of  man  and  the  Son  of  God  is  so  one  and  in- 
divisible, that,  in  the  language  of  holy  Scrip- 
ture, the  man  cannot  be  severed  in  time  from 
God,  nor  God  from  man  at  His  Passion. 
Hence  comes  this  :  "  No  man  hath  ascended 
into  heaven,  but  He  who  came  down  from 
heaven,  even  the  Son  of  man  who  is  in  hea- 
ven." 4  Where  the  Son  of  God  while  He  was 
speaking  on  earth  testified  that  the  Son  of 
man  was  in  heaven :  and  testified  that  the 
same  Son  of  man,  who,  He  said,  would  ascend 
into  heaven,  had  previously  come  down  from 
heaven.  And  this  :  "  What  and  if  ye  shall  see 
the  Son  of  man  ascend  up  where  He  was  be- 
fore," 5  where  He  gives  the  name  of  Him  who 

1  Dominions  homo,  see  above  on  V.  v. 

2  Ifomiui.  4  S.  John  iii.  13. 

3  Dominions  homo.  c  S.  John  vi.  63. 


was  born  of  man,  but  affirms  that  He  ever  was 
up  on  high.  And  the  Apostle  also,  when  con- 
sidering what  happened  in  time,  says  that  all 
things  were  made  by  Christ.  For  he  says, 
"  There  is  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  are 
all  things."  6  But  when  speaking  of  His  Pas- 
sion, he  shows  that  the  Lord  of  glory  was  cru- 
cified. "  For  if,"  he  says,  "  they  had  known, 
they  would  never  have  crucified  the  Lord  of 
glory."  7  And  so  too  the  Creed  speaking  of 
the  only  and  first-begotten  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
"  Very  God  of  Very  God,  Being  of  one  sub- 
stance with  the  Father,  and  the  Maker  of  all 
things,"  affirms  that  He  was  born  of  the  Vir- 
gin and  crucified  and  afterwards  buried.  Thus 
joining  in  one  body  (as  it  were)  the  Son  of 
God  and  of  man,  and  uniting  God  and  man,  so 
that  there  can  be  no  severance  either  in  time 
or  at  the  Passion,  since  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
is  shown  to  be  one  and  the  same  Person,  both 
as  God  through  all  eternity,  and  as  man  through 
the  endurance  of  His  Passion ;  and  though  we 
cannot  say  that  man  is  without  beginning  or 
that  God  is  passible,  yet  in  the  one  Person  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  we  can  speak  of  man  as 
eternal,  and  of  God  as  dead.  You  see  then 
that  Christ  means  the  whole  Person,  and  that 
the  name  represents  both  natures,  for  both  man 
and  God  are  born,  and  so  it  takes  in  the  whole 
Person  so  that  when  this  name  is  used  we  see 
that  no  part  is  left  out.  There  was  not  then 
before  the  birth  of  a  Virgin  the  same  eternity 
belonging  in  the  past  to  the  manhood  as  to  the 
Divinity,  but  because  Divinity  was  united  to 
manhood  in  the  womb  of  the  Virgin,  it  follows 
that  when  we  use  the  name  of  Christ  one  can- 
not be  spoken  of  without  the  other. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

That  the  figure  Synecdoche,  in  which  the  part  stands  for  the 
whole,  is  very  familiar  to  the  Holy  Scripture. 

Whatever  then  you  say  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  you  say  of  the  whole  person,  and  in 
mentioning  the  Son  of  God  you  mention  the 
Son  of  man,  and  in  mentioning  the  Son  of  man 
you  mention  the  Son  of  God :  by  the  gram- 
matical trope  synecdoche  in  which  you  under- 
stand the  whole  from  the  parts,  and  a  part  is 
put  for  the  whole  :  and  the  holy  Scriptures 
certainly  show  this,  as  in  them  the  Lord  often 
uses  this  trope,  and  teaches  in  this  way  about 
others  and  would  have  us  understand  about 
Himself  in  the  same  way.  For  sometimes 
days,  and  things,  and  men,  and  times  are  de- 


6  1  Cor.  viii.  6. 

7  1  Cor.  ii.  S.     See  the  note  on  IV.  vii. 


BOOK   VII. 


603 


noted  in  holy  Scripture  in  no  other  fashion. 
As  in  this  case  where  God  declares  that  Israel 
shall  serve  the  Egyptians  for  four  hundred 
years,  and  says  to  Abraham  :  "  Know  thou 
that  thy  seed  shall  be  a  stranger  in  a  land  not 
theirs,  and  they  shall  bring  them  under  bond- 
age and  afflict  them  four  hundred  years."  J 
Whereas  if  you  take  into  account  the  whole 
time  after  that  God  spoke,  they  are  more  than 
four  hundred  :  but  if  you  only  reckon  the  time 
in  which  they  were  in  slavery,  they  are  less. 
And  in  giving  this  period  indeed,  unless  you 
understand  it  in  this  way,  we  must  think  that 
the  Word  of  God  lied  (and  away  with  such  a 
thought  from  Christian  minds !).  But  since 
from  the  time  of  the  Divine  utterance,  the 
whole  period  of  their  lives  amounted  to  more 
than  four  hundred  years,  and  their  bondage 
endured  for  not  nearly  four  hundred,  you  must 
understand  that  the  part  is  to  be  taken  for  the 
whole,  or  the  whole  for  the  part.  There  is  also 
a  similar  way  of  representing  days  and  nights, 
where,  when  in  the  case  of  either  division  of 
time  one  day  is  meant,  either  period  is  shown 
by  a  portion  of  a  single  period.  And  indeed 
in  this  way  the  difficulty  about  the  time  of  our 
Lord's  Passion  is  cleared  up  :  for  whereas  the 
Lord  prophesied  that  after  the  model  of  the 
prophet  Jonah,  the  Son  of  man  would  be  three 
days  and  three  nights  in  the  heart  of  the 
earth,2  and  whereas  after  the  sixth  day  of  the 
week  on  which  He  was  crucified,  He  was  only 
in  hell 3  for  one  day  and  two  nights,  how 
can  we  show  the  truth  of  the  Divine  words  ? 
Surely  by  the  trope  of  Synecdoche,  i.e.,  be- 
cause to  the  day  on  which  He  was  crucified 
the  previous  night  belongs,  and  to  the  night  on 
which  He  rose  again,  the  coming  day  ;  and  so 
when  there  is  added  the  night  which  preceded 
the  day  belonging  to  it,  and  the  day  which 
followed  the  night  belonging  to  it,  we  see  that 


there  is  nothing  lacking  to  the  whole  period  of 
time,  which  is  made  up  of  its  portions.  The 
holy  Scriptures  abound  in  such  instances  of 
ways  of  speaking :  but  it  would  take  too  long 
to  relate  them  all.  For  so  when  the  Psalm 
says,  "  What  is  a  man  that  Thou  art  mindful 
of  Him,"  4  from  the  part  we  understand  the 
whole,  as  while  only  one  man  is  mentioned 
the  whole  human  race  is  meant.  So  also  where 
Ahab  sinned  we  are  told  that  the  people  sinned. 
Where  —  though  all  are  mentioned,  a  part  is 
to  be  understood  from  the  whole.  John  also 
the  Lord's  forerunner  says:  "After  me  cometh 
a  man  who  is  preferred  before  me  for  He  was 
before  me."  5  How  then  does  He  mean  that 
He  would  come  after  Him,  whom  He  shows  to 
be  before  Him  ?  For  if  this  is  understood  of 
a  man  who  was  afterwards  born,  how  was  he 
before  him  ?  But  if  it  is  taken  of  the  Word 
how  is  it,  "  a  man  cometh  after  me  ?  "  Except 
that  in  the  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  shown 
both  the  posteriority  of  the  manhood  and  the 
precedence  of  the  Godhead.  And  so  the 
result  is  that  one  and  the  same  Lord  was 
before  him  and  came  after  him  :  for  according 
to  the  flesh  He  was  posterior  in  time  to  John ; 
and  according  to  His  Deity  was  before  all 
men.  And  so  he,  when  he  named  that  man, 
denoted  both  the  manhood  and  the  Word,  for 
as  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of  God  was 
complete  in  both  manhood  and  Divinity6  in 
mentioning  one  of  these  natures  in  Him  he 
denoted  the  whole  person.  And  what  need  is 
there  of  anything  further  ?  I  think  that  the 
day  would  fail  me  if  I  were  to  try  to  collect  or 
to  tell  everything  that  could  be  said  on  this 
subject.  And  what  we  have  already  said  is 
enough,  at  any  rate  on  this  part  of  the  subject, 
both  for  the  exposition  of  the  Creed,  and  for 
the  requirements  of  our  case,  and  for  the  limits 
of  our  book. 


BOOK   VII. 


CHAPTER   I. 

As  he  is  going  to  reply  to  the  slanders  of  his  opponents  he 
implores  the  aid  of  Divine  grace  to  teach  a  prayer  to  be 
used  by  those  who  undertake  to  dispute  with  heretics. 

As  it  happens  to  those  who  having  escaped  | 
the  perils  of  the  sea,  are  in  terror  of  the  sands 
that  stretch  before  the  harbour,  or  the  rocks 
that  line  the  shore,  so  it  is  in  my  case  that,  — 
as  I  have  kept  to  the  last  some  of  the  slanders 


1  Gen.  xv.  13. 


2  S.  Matt.  xii.  40. 


3  A  pud  inferos. 


of  the  heretics,  —  although  I  have  reached  the 
limit  of  the  work  which  I  set  myself,  yet  I 
am  beginning  to  dread  the  close,  which  I  had 
longed  to  reach.  But,  as  the  Prophet  says, 
"  The  Lord  is  my  helper ;  I  will  not  fear  what 
man  can  do  to  me,"7  so  we  will  not  fear  the 
pitfalls  which  crafty  heretics  have  dug  in  front 
of  us,  nor  the  paths  thickly  strewn  with  horrid 
thorns.  For  as  they  make  our  road  difficult 
but   do    not  close  it,  there  is  before  us  the 


4   Ps.  viii.  5. 
0  S.  John  i.  15. 


6  Verbi. 

7  Ps.  cxvii.  (cxviii.)  6. 


604 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


trouble  of  clearing  them  away,  rather  than  the 
fear  of  not  being  able  to  do  so.  For  when, 
as  we  are  walking  feebly  along  the  right 
road,  they  come  in  our  way,  and  frighten  the 
walkers  rather  than  hurt  them,  our  work  and 
business  has  more  to  do  in  clearing  them 
away,  than  to  fear  from  the  difficulty  of  this  : 
And  so,  laying  our  hands  upon  that  mon- 
strous head  of  the  deadly  serpent,  and  long- 
ing to  lay  hold  of  all  the  limbs  that  are 
entangled  in  the  huge  folds  and  coils  of  his 
body,  again  and  again  do  we  pray  to  Thee, 
O  Lord  Jesus,  to  whom  we  have  ever  prayed, 
that  Thou  wouldst  give  us  words  by  opening 
our  mouth  "  to  the  pulling  down  of  strong- 
holds, destroying  counsels,  and  every  height 
that  exalteth  itself  against  the  knowledge  of 
God,  and  bringing  into  captivity  every  under- 
standing unto  Thine  obedience  :  " 1  for  he  is 
indeed  free,  who  has  begun  to  be  led  captive 
by  Thee.  Do  Thou  then  be  present  to  this 
work  of  thine,  and  to  those  of  Thine  who  are 
striving  for  Thee  above  the  measure  of  their 
strength.  Grant  us  to  bruise  the  gaping 
mouths  of  this  new  serpent,  and  its  neck  that 
swells  with  deadly  poison,  O  Thou  who  mak- 
est  the  feet  of  believers  to  tread  unharmed  on 
serpents  and  scorpions,  and  to  go  upon  the 
adder  and  basilisk,  to  tread  under  foot  the 
lion  and  the  dragon."2  And  grant  that  through 
the  fearless  boldness  of  steadfast  innocence, 
the  sucking  child  may  play  on  the  hole  of  the 
asp,  and  the  weaned  child  thrust  his  hand  into 
the  den  of  the  basilisk.3  Grant  then  to  us  also 
that  we  may  thrust  our  hands  unharmed  into 
the  den  of  this  monstrous  and  most  wicked 
basilisk  ;  and  if  it  has  in  any  holes,  i.e.,  in 
the  human  heart,  a  lurking  or  resting  place, 
or  has  laid  its  eggs  there,  or  left  a  trace  of  its 
slimy  course,  do  Thou  remove  from  them  all 
the  foul  and  deadly  pollution  of  this  most  nox- 
ious serpent.  Take  away  the  uncleanness  their 
blasphemy  has  brought  on  them,  and  purify 
with  the  fan  of  Thy  sacred  cleansing 4  the 
souls  that  are  plunged  in  stinking  mud,  so  that 
the  "  dens  of  thieves  "  may  become  "  houses 
of  prayer  :  "  5  and  that  in  those  which  are  now, 
as  is  written,  the  dwellings  where  hedgehogs  and 
monsters,6  and  satyrs,  and  all  kinds  of  strange 
creatures  dwell,  there  the  gifts  of  Thy  Holy 
Spirit,  namely  the  beauty  of  faith  and  holiness 
may  shine  forth.  And  as  once  Thou  didst 
destroy  idolatry  and  cast  out  images,  and  make 
shrines  of  virtue  out  of  the  temples  of  devils, 
and  let  into  the  dens  of  serpents  and  scorpions 
the  rays  of  shining  light,  and  make  out  of  the 
dens  of  error  and  shame  the  homes  of  beauty 


1  2  Cor.  x.  4,  5.  2  Cf.  S.Lukex.  19;  Ps.  xc.  (xci.)  13. 

3  Isn.  xi.  S.  *  Cf.  Mai.  in.  2,  3.  6  S.  Matt.  xxi.  13. 

0  Onocentauri  :  the  allusion  is  to  Is.  xxxiv.  14,  15.     Cf.  Jerome  in 
Esaiam,  Bk.  X. 


and  splendour,  so  do  Thou  pour  upon  all  whose 
eyes  the  darkness  of  heretical  obstinacy  has 
blinded,  the  light  of  Thy  compassion  and 
truth,  that  they  may  at  length  with  clear  and 
unveiled  sight  behold  the  great  and  life-giving 
mystery  of  Thine  Incarnation,  and  so  come  to 
know  Thee  to  have  been  born  as  Very  man  of 
that  sacred  womb  of  a  pure  Virgin,  and  yet 
to  acknowledge  that  Thou  wast  always  Very 
God. 


CHAPTER   II. 

He  meets  the  objection  taken  from  these  words  :  No  one  gave 
birth  to  one  who  had  existed  before  her. 

And  before  I  begin  to  speak  of  those  things 
of  which  I  have  given  no  foretaste  in  the  ear- 
lier books,  I  think  it  right  to  try  to  carry  out 
what  I  have  already  promised,  that  when  I 
have  thoroughly  redeemed  my  pledge,  I  may 
begin  to  speak  more  freely  of  what  has  not 
been  touched  upon,  after  having  satisfied  my 
promise.  So  then  that  new  serpent,  in  order 
to  destroy  the  faith  of  the  holy  nativity,  hisses 
out  against  the  Church  of  God  and  says  :  "  No 
one  ever  gives  birth  to  one  older  than  her- 
self." To  begin  with  then  I  think  that  you 
know  neither  what  you  say  nor  where  you  get 
it  from.  For  if  you  knew  or  understood  where 
you  got  it  from,  you  would  never  regard  the 
nativity  of  the  only  begotten  of  God  in  the 
light  of  human  fancies,  nor  would  you  try  to 
settle  by  merely  human  propositions,  about 
Him  who  was  born  without  His  conception 
originating  from  man  :  nor  would  you  bring 
human  impossibilities  as  cbjections  against 
Divine  Omnipotence  if  you  knew  that  with 
God  nothing  was  impossible.  No  one  then, 
you  say,  gives  birth  to  one  older  than  herself. 
Tell  me  then,  I  pray,  of  what  cases  are  you 
speaking,  for  the  nature  of  what  creatures  do 
you  think  that  you  can  lay  down  rules  ?  Do 
you  suppose  that  you  can  fix  laws  for  men  or 
beasts  or  birds  or  cattle  ?  Those  (and  others 
of  the  same  kind)  are  the  things  of  which  such 
assertions  can  be  made.  For  none  of  them 
is  able  to  produce  one  older  than  itself ;  for 
what  has  already  been  produced  cannot  return 
to  it  again  so  as  to  be  born  again  by  a  new 
creation.  And  so  no  one  can  bear  one  older 
than  herself,  as  no  one  can  beget  one  older 
than  himself :  for  the  opportunity  of  bearing- 
only  results  where  there  is  the  possibility  of 
begetting.  Do  you  then  imagine  that  in  refer- 
ence to  the  nativity  of  Almighty  God  regard 
must  be  had  to  the  same  considerations  as  in 
the  birth  of  earthly  creatures  ?  And  do  you 
bring  the  nature  of  man's  conditions  as  a  diffi- 
culty in  the  case  of  Him  who  is  Himself  the 


BOOK   VII. 


605 


author  of  nature  ?  You  see  then  that,  as  I 
said  above,  you  know  not  whence  or  of  whom 
you  are  talking,  as  you  are  comparing  creatures 
to  the  Creator ;  and  in  order  to  calculate  the 
power  of  God  are  drawing  an  instance  from 
those  things  which  would  never  have  existed 
at  all,  but  that  the  very  fact  of  their  existence 
comes  from  God.  God  then  came  as  He 
would,  when  He  would,  and  of  her  whom  He 
would.  Neither  time  nor  person,  nor  the 
manner  of  men,  nor  the  custom  of  creatures 
was  any  difficulty  with  Him  ;  for  the  law  of 
the  creatures  could  not  stand  in  the  way  of 
Him  who  is  Himself  the  Creator  of  them  all. 
And  whatever  He  would  have  possible  was 
ready  to  His  hand,  for  the  power  of  willing  it 
was  His.  Do  you  want  to  know  how  far  the 
omnipotence  of  God  extends,  and  how  great 
it  is  ?  I  believe  that  the  Lord  could  do  that 
even  in  the  case  of  His  creatures  which  you 
do  not  believe  that  He  could  do  in  His  own 
case.  For  all  living  creatures  which  now  bear 
things  younger  than  themselves  could,  if  only 
God  gave  the  word,  bear  things  much  older 
than  themselves.  For  even  food  and  drink,  if 
it  were  God's  will,  could  be  turned  into  the 
foetus  and  offspring  :  and  even  water,  which 
has  been  flowing  from  the  beginning  of  things, 
and  which  all  living  creatures  use,  could,  if 
God  gave  the  word,  be  made  a  body  in  the 
womb,  and  have  birth  given  to  it.  For  who 
can  set  a  limit  to  divine  works,  or  circumscribe 
Divine  Providence  ?  or  who  (to  use  the  words 
of  Scripture)  can  say  to  Him  "  What  doest 
thou  ? "  *  If  you  deny  that  God  can  do  all 
things,  then  deny,  that,  when  God  was  born, 
one  older  than  Mary  could  be  born  of  her. 
But  if  -'there  is  nothing  impossible  with  God, 
why  do  you  bring  as  an  objection  against  His 
coming  an  impossibility,  when  you  know  that 
for  Him  nothing  is  impossible  in  anything? 


CHAPTER   III. 

He  replies  to  the  cavil  that  the  one  who  is  born  must  be  of  one 
substance  with  the  one  who  bears. 

The  second  blasphemous  slander  or  slan- 
derous blasphemy  of  your  heresy  is  when  you 
say  that  the  one  who  is  born  must  be  of  one 
substance  with  the  one  who  bears.  It  is  not 
very  different  from  the  previous  one,  for  it 
differs  from  it  in  terms  rather  than  in  fact  and 
reality.  For  when  we  are  treating  of  the  birth 
of  God,  you  maintain  that  one  of  greater  power 
could  not  be  born  of  Mary  just  as  above  you 
maintain  than  one  older  could  not  be  begotten. 
And  so  you  may  take  it  that  the  same  answer 


1  Isa.  xlv.  9;   Rom.  ix.  20. 


may  be  given  to  this  as  to  what  you  said  be- 
fore :  or  you  may  conceive  that  the  answer 
given  to  this  assertion,  which  you  are  now 
making,  applies  to  that  also.  You  say  then 
that  the  one  who  is  born  must  be  of  one  sub- 
stance with  the  one  who  bears.  If  this  refers 
to  earthly  creatures,  it  is  most  certainly  the 
case.  But  if  it  refers  to  the  birth  of  God,  why 
in  the  case  of  His  birth  do  you  regard  prece- 
dents from  nature  ?  for  appointments  are  sub- 
ject to  Him  who  appointed  them,  and  not  the 
appointer  to  His  appointments.  But  would 
you  like  to  know  more  fully  how  these  slanders 
of  yours  are  not  only  wicked  but  foolish,  and 
the  idle  talk  of  one  who  does  not  in  the  least 
see  the  omnipotence  of  God  ?  Tell  me,  I  pray, 
you  who  think  that  like  things  can  only  be 
produced  from  like  things,  whence  was  the  ori- 
gin of  that  unaccountable  host  of  quails  in  the 
wilderness  of  old  time  to  feed  the  children  of 
Israel,  for  nowhere  do  we  read  that  they  had 
been  previously  born  of  mother  birds,  but  that 
they  were  brought  up  and  came  suddenly. 
Again  whence  came  that  heavenly  food  which 
for  forty  years  fell  on  the  camp  of  the  Hebrews  ? 
Did  manna  produce  manna  ?  But  these  refer 
to  ancient  miracles.  And  what  of  more  recent 
ones  ?  With  a  few  loaves  and  small  fishes  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  fed  countless  hosts  of  the 
people  that  followed  Him,  and  not  once  only. 
The  reason  that  they  were  satisfied  lay  not  in 
the  food :  for  a  secret  and  unseen  cause  satis- 
fied the  hungry  folk,  especially  as  there  was 
much  more  left  when  they  were  filled  than 
there  had  been  set  before  them  when  they 
were  hungry.  Arid  how  was  all  this  brought 
about  that  when  those  who  ate  were  satisfied, 
the  food  itself  was  multiplied  by  an  extraordi- 
nary increase  ?  We  read  that  in  Galilee  wine 
was  produced  from  water.  Tell  me  how  what 
was  of  one  nature  produced  something  of  an 
altogether  different  substance  from  its  own 
quality  ?  Especially  when  (which  exactly  ap- 
plies to  the  birth  of  the  Lord)  it  was  the  pro- 
duction of  a  nobler  substance  from  what  was 
inferior  to  it  ?  Tell  me  then  how  from  mere 
water  there  could  be  produced  rich  and  splen- 
did wine  ?  How  was  it  that  one  thing  was 
drawn  out,  another  poured  in  ?  Was  the  cis- 
tern a  well  of  such  a  nature  as  to  change  the 
water  drawn  from  it  into  the  best  wine  ?  Or 
did  the  character  of  the  vessels  or  the  dili- 
gence of  the  servants  effect  this  ?  Most  cer- 
tainly neither  of  these.  And  how  is  it  that 
the  7tianner  of  the  fact  is  not  understood  by  the 
thoughts  of  the  heart,  though  the  truth  of  the 
fact  is  firmly  held  by  the  conscience  ?  In 
the  gospel  clay  was  placed  on  the  eyes  of  a 
blind  man  and  when  it  was  washed  off  2  eyes 


2  A bluto  eo  (Petschenig) :  Ab  luto  eo  (Gazaeus). 


6o6 


THE  SEVEN   BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


were  produced.  Had  water  the  power  of  giv- 
ing birth  to  eyes,  or  clay  of  creating  light  ? 
Certainly  not,  especially  as  water  could  be  of 
no  use  to  a  blind  man,  and  clay  would  actually 
hinder  the  sight  of  those  who  could  see.  And 
how  was  it  that  a  thing  that  itself  in  its  own  na- 
ture was  injurious,  became  the  means  of  restor- 
ing health  ;  and  that  what  was  ordinarily  hurtful 
to  sound  people,  was  then  made  the  instrument 
of  healing  ?  You  say  that  the  power  of  God 
brought  it  about,  and  the  remedy  of  God 
caused  it,  and  that  all  these  things  of  which 
we  have  been  speaking  were  simply  brought 
about  by  Divine  Omnipotence ;  which  is  able 
to  fashion  new  things  from  unwonted  material, 
and  to  make  serviceable  things  out  of  their  op- 
posites,  and  to  change  what  belongs  to  the 
realm  of  things  impossible  and  impracticable 
into  possibilities  and  actual  performances. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

How  God  has  shown  His  Omnipotence  in  His  birth  in  time 
as  well  as  in  everything  else. 

Confess  then  the  same  truth  in  respect  of 
the  actual  nativity  of  the  Lord,  as  in  respect 
of  everything  else.  Believe  that  God  was  born 
when  He  would,  for  you  do  not  deny  that  He 
could  do  what  He  would ;  unless  possibly  you 
think  that  that  power  which  belonged  to  Him 
for  all  other  things  was  deficient  as  regards 
Himself,  and  that  His  Omnipotence  though 
proceeding  from  Him  and  penetrating  all 
tilings,  was  insufficient  to  bring  about  His  own 
nativity.  In  the  case  of  the  Lord's  nativity 
you  bring  this  as  an  objection  against  me  : 
No  one  gives  birth  to  one  who  is  anterior  in 
time  :  and  in  regard  of  the  birth  which  Al- 
mighty God  underwent  you  say  that  the  one 
who  is  born  ought  to  be  of  one  substance  with 
the  one  who  bears  ;  as  if  you  had  to  do  with 
human  laws  as  in  the  case  of  any  ordinary 
man,  to  whom  you  might  bring  the  impos- 
sibility as  an  objection,  as  you  include  him  in 
the  weakness  of  earthly  things.  You  say  that 
for  all  men  there  are  common  conditions  of 
birth,  and  but  one  law  of  generation  ;  and  that 
a  thing  could  not  possibly  happen  to  one  man 
only  out  of  the  whole  of  humanity,  which  God 
has  forbidden  to  happen  to  all.  You  do  not 
understand  of  whom  you  are  speaking;  nor 
do  you  see  of  whom  you  are  talking  ;  for  He 
is  the  Author  of  all  conditions,  and  the  very 
Law  of  all  natures,  through  whom  exists  what- 
ever man  can  do,  and  whatever  man  cannot 
do :  for  He  certainly  has  laid  down  the  limits 
of  both ;  viz.,  how  far  his  powers  should  ex- 
tend, and  the  bounds  beyond  which  his  weak- 


ness should  not  advance.  How  wildly  then 
do  you  bring  human  impossibilities  as  an  ob- 
jection in  the  case  of  Him,  who  possesses  all 
powers  and  possibilities.  If  you  estimate  the 
Person  of  the  Lord  by  earthly  weaknesses, 
and  measure  God's  Omnipotence  by  human 
rules,  you  will  most  certainly  fail  to  find  any- 
thing which  seems  appropriate  to  God  as  con- 
cerns the  sufferings  of  His  Body.  For  if  it 
can  seem  to  you  unreasonable  that  Mary  could 
give  birth  to  God  who  was  anterior  to  her, 
how  will  it  seem  reasonable  that  God  was  cru- 
cified by  men  ?  And  yet  the  same  God  who 
was  crucified  Himself  predicted :  "  Shall  a 
man  afflict  God,  for  you  afflict  Me?"1  If 
then  we  cannot  think  that  the  Lord  was  born 
of  a  Virgin  because  Pie  who  was  born  was 
anterior  to  her  who  bore  Plim,  how  can  we 
believe  that  God  had  blood  ?  And  yet  it  was 
said  to  the  Ephesian  elders  :  "  Feed  the  Church 
of  God  which  He  has  purchased  with  His  own 
Blood."  2  Finally  how  can  we  think  that  the 
Author  of  life  was  Himself  deprived  of  life  : 
And  yet  Peter  says :  "  Ye  have  killed  the 
Author  of  life."  8  No  one  who  is  set  on  earth 
can  be  in  heaven :  and  how  does  the  Lord 
Himself  say :  "  The  Son  of  man  who  is  in 
heaven  "  ? 4  If  then  you  think  that  God  was 
not  born  of  a  Virgin  because  the  one  who  is 
born  must  be  of  one  substance  with  the  one 
who  bears,  how  will  you  believe  that  different 
things  can  be  produced  from  different  natures  ? 
Thus  according  to  you  the  wind  did  not  sud- 
denly bring  the  quails,  nor  did  the  manna  fall, 
nor  was  water  turned  into  wine,  nor  were  many 
thousands  of  men  fed  with  a  few  loaves,  nor 
did  the  blind  man  receive  his  sight  after  the 
clay  had  been  put  on  him.  But  if  all  these 
things  seem  incredible  and  contrary  to  nature, 
unless  we  believe  that  they  were  wrought  by 
God,  why  should  you  deny  in  the  matter  of 
His  nativity,  what  you  admit  in  the  matter 
of  His  works  ?  Or  was  He  unable  to  con- 
tribute to  His  own  nativity  and  advent  what 
He  did  not  refuse  for  the  succour  and  profit 
of  men  ? 

CHAPTER   V. 

He  shows  by  proofs  drawn  from  nature  itself,  that  the  law 
which  his  opponents  lay  down;  viz.,  that  the  one  born 
ought  to  be  of  one  substance  with  the  one  who  bears,  fails 
to  hold  good  in  many  cases. 

It  would  be  tedious  and  almost  childish  to 
speak  further  on  this  subject.  But  still  in  order 
to  refute  that  folly  and  madness  of  yours,  in 
which  you  maintain  that  the  one  born  ought 
to   be    of   one    substance   with   the    one  who 


1  Mai.  iii.  8.      -  Acts  xx.  28.     s  Acts  iii.  15.    4  S.  John  iii.  13. 


BOOK   VII. 


607 


bears,  i.e.,  that  nothing  can  produce  some- 
thing of  a  different  nature  to  itself,  I  will  bring 
forward  some  instances  of  earthly  things,  to 
convince  you  that  many  creatures  are  pro- 
duced from  things  of  a  different  nature.  Not 
that  it  is  possible  or  right  to  make  any  com- 
parison in  such  a  case  as  this  :  but  that  you 
may  not  doubt  the  possibility  of  that  happen- 
ing in  the  case  of  the  holy  Nativity,  which  as 
you  see  takes  place  in  these  frail  earthly  things. 
Bees,  tiniest  of  creatures  though  they  are,  are 
yet  so  clever  and  cunning  that  we  read  that 
they  can  be  produced  and  spring  from  things 
of  an  entirely  different  nature.  For  as  they 
are  creatures  of  marvellous  intelligence,  and 
well  endowed  not  merely  with  sense  but  with 
foresight,  they  are  produced  from  the  gathered 
flowers  of  plants.  What  greater  instance  do 
you  think  can  be  produced  and  quoted  ?  Liv- 
ing creatures  are  produced  from  inanimate  : 
sensate  from  insensate.1  What  artificer,  what 
architect  was  there  ?  Who  formed  their  bodies  ? 
Who  breathed  in  their  souls  ?  Who  gave  them 
articulate  sounds  by  which  to  converse  with 
each  other  ?  Who  fashioned  and  arranged 
these  harmonies  of  their  feet,  the  cunning  of 
their  mouths,  the  neatness  of  their  wings  ? 
Their  powers,  wrath,  foresight,  movements, 
calmness,  harmony,  differences,  wars,  peace, 
arrangements,  contrivances,  business,  govern- 
ment, all  those  things  indeed  which  they  have 
in  common  with  men  —  from  whose  teaching, 
or  whose  gift  did  they  receive  them  ?  from 
whose  implanting  or  instruction  ?  Did  they 
gain  this  through  generation  ?  or  learn  it  in 
their  mother's  womb  or  from  her  flesh  ?  They 
never  were  in  the  womb,  and  had  no  experi- 
ence of  generation.  It  was  only  that  flowers 
which  they  culled  were  brought  into  the  hive ; 
and  from  this  by  a  marvellous  contrivance 
bees  issued  forth."  Then  the  womb  of  the 
mother  imparted  nothing  to  the  offspring :  nor 
are  bees  produced  from  bees.  They  are  but 
their  artificers,  not  their  authors.  From  the 
blossoms  of  plants  living  creatures  proceed. 
What  is  there  akin  in  plants  and  animals  ?  I 
fancy  then  that  you  see  who  is  the  contriver 
of  those  things.  Go  now  and  inquire  whether 
the  Lord  could  bring  about  that  in  the  case  of 
His  own  nativity,  which  you  see  that  He  pro- 
cured in  the  case  of  these  tiniest  of  crea- 
tures. Perhaps  it  is  needless  after  this  to  add 
anything  further.  But  still  let  us  add  in  sup- 
port of  the  argument  what  may  not  be  neces- 
sary to  prove  the  point.     We  see  how  the  air 


1  Ex  inanimis  animalia,  ex  insensibilibus  sensibilia  nascuntur 
(Petschenig).  The  text  of  Gazaeus  has  ex  atumis  animalia  nas- 
cuntur. 

2  Cf.  Virgil's  Georgics  IV.  Rufinus,  on  the  Apostle's  Creed 
(c.  xi.)  gives  the  same  illustration  of  the  Incarnation,  and  cf.  with 
the  passage  in  the  text  S.  Basil  Horn,  in  Hexaem,  IX.  ii. 


is  suddenly  darkened,  and  the  earth  filled  with 
locusts.  Show  me  their  seed  —  their  birth  — 
their  mothers.  For,  as  you  see,  they  proceed 
thence,  whence  they  have  their  birth.  Assert 
in  all  these  cases  that  the  one  who  is  born 
must  be  of  one  substance  with  the  one  who 
bears.  And  in  these  assertions  you  will  be 
shown  to  be  as  silly,  as  you  are  wild  in  your 
denial  of  the  Nativity  of  the  Lord.  And  what 
next  ?  Do  even  you  think  that  we  must  go  on 
any  further  ?  But  still  we  will  add  something 
else.  There  is  no  doubt  that  basilisks  are 
produced  from  the  eggs  of  the  birds  which  in 
Egypt  they  call  the  Ibis.  What  is  there  of 
kindred  or  relationship  between  a  bird  and  a 
serpent  ?  Why  is  the  thing  born  not  of  one 
substance  with  that  which  bears  it  ?  And  yet 
those  who  bear  are  not  the  authors  of  all  these 
things,  nor  do  those  who  are  born  understand 
them  :  but  they  result  from  secret  causes,  and 
from  some  inexplicable  and  manifold  law  of 
nature  which  produces  them.  And  you  are 
bringing  as  objections  to  His  Nativity  your 
petty  assertions  from  earthly  notions,  while 
you  cannot  explain  the  origin  of  those  things, 
which  are  produced  by  His  bidding  and  com- 
mand, whose  will  does  everything,  whose  sway 
causes  everything  :  whom  nothing  can  oppose 
or  resist ;  and  whose  will  is  sufficient  for  every- 
thing which  can  possibly  be  done. 

CHAPTER   VI. 

He  refutes  another  argument  of  Nestorius,  in  which  he  tried 
to  make  out  that  Christ  was  like  Adam  in  every  point. 

But  since  we  cannot  (as  we  should  much 
prefer)  ignore  them,  it  is  now  time  to  expose 
the  rest  of  your  more  subtle  and  insidious 
blasphemies  that  at  least  they  may  not  deceive 
ignorant  folk.  In  one  of  your  pestilent  trea- 
tises you  have  maintained  and  said  that 
"  Since  man  is  the  image  of  the  Divine  na- 
ture, and  the  devil  dragged  this  down  and 
shattered  it,  God  grieved  over  His  image,  as 
an  Emperor  over  his  statue,  and  repairs  the 
shattered  image  :  and  formed  without  genera- 
tion a  nature  from  the  Virgin,  like  that  of 
Adam  who  was  born  without  generation  ;  and 
raises  up  man's  nature  by  means  of  man  :  for 
as  by  man  came  death,  so  also  by  man  came 
the  resurrection  of  the  dead."  They  tell  us 
that  some  poisoners  have  a  custom  of  mixing 
honey  with  the  poison  in  the  cups  which  they 
prepare  ;  that  the  injurious  ingredient  may  be 
concealed  by  the  sweet :  and  while  a  man  is 
charmed  with  the  sweetness  of  the  honey,  he 
may  be  destroyed  by  the  deadly  poison.  So 
then,  when  you  say  that  man  is  the  image  of 
the  Divine  nature,  and  that  the  devil  dragged 


6o8 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


this  down  and  shattered  it,  and  that  God 
grieved  over  His  image  as  an  Emperor  over 
his  statue,  you  smear  (so  to  speak)  the  lips  of 
the  cup  with  something  sweet  like  honey,  that 
men  may  drain  the  cup  offered  to  them,  and 
not  perceive  its  deadliness,  while  they  taste 
what  is  alluring.  You  put  forward  God's 
name,  in  order  to  speak  falsehoods  in  the 
name  of  religion.  You  set  holy  things  in 
the  front,  in  order  to  persuade  men  of  what  is 
untrue  :  and  by  means  of  your  confession  of 
God  you  contrive  to  deny  Him  whom  you  are 
confessing.  For  who  is  there  who  does  not 
see  whither  you  are  going  ?  What  you  are  con- 
triving ?  You  say  indeed  that  God  grieved 
over  His  image  as  an  Emperor  over  his  statue, 
and  repaired  the  shattered  image,  and  formed 
without  generation  a  nature  from  the  Virgin, 
like  that  of  Adam  who  was  born  without  gen- 
eration, and  raises  up  man's  nature  by  man, 
for  as  by  man  came  death,  so  also  by  man 
came  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  So  then 
with  all  your  earnestness,  with  all  your  profes- 
sions, you  crafty  plotter,  you  have  managed  by 
your  smooth  assertions,  by  naming  God  in  the 
forefront,  to  come  down  to  a  (mere)  man  in 
the  conclusion  :  and  in  the  end  you  degrade 
Him  to  the  condition  of  a  mere  man,  from 
whom  under  colour  of  humility  you  have  al- 
ready taken  away  the  glory  of  God.  You  say 
then  that  the  Divine  goodness  has  restored 
the  image  of  God  which  the  devil  shattered 
and  destroyed,  for  you  say  that  He  restores 
the  shattered  image.  Now  with  what  craft 
you  say  that  He  restores  the  shattered  image  : 
in  order  to  persuade  us  that  there  was  no- 
thing more  in  Him,  in  whom  the  image  is  re- 
stored, than  there  was  in  the  actual  image,  of 
which  the  restoration  was  brought  about.  And 
thus  you  make  out  that  the  Lord  is  only  the 
same  as  Adam  was :  that  the  restorer  of  the 
image  is  nothing  more  than  the  actual  destruc- 
tible image.  Finally  in  what  follows  you  show 
what  you  are  aiming  and  driving  at,  when  you 
say  that  He  formed  without  generation  a  na- 
ture from  the  Virgin  like  that  of  Adam,  who 
was  born  without  generation,  and  raises  up 
man's  nature  by  man.  You  maintain  that  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  in  all  respects  like 
Adam  :  that  the  one  was  without  generation, 
and  the  other  without  generation  :  the  one  a 
mere  man,  and  the  other  a  mere  man.  And 
thus  you  see  that  you  have  carefully  guarded 
and  provided  against  our  thinking  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  as  in  any  way  greater  or  better 
than  Adam  :  since  you  have  compared  them 
together  by  the  same  standard,  so  that  you 
would  think  that  you .  detracted  something 
from  Adam's  perfection,  if  you  added  any- 
thing more  to  Christ. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

Heretics  usually  cover  their  doctrines  with  a  cloak  of  holy- 
Scripture. 

"  For  as,"  you  say,  "  by  man  came  death, 
so  by  man  came  also  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead."  Do  you  actually  try  to  prove  your 
wrong  and  impious  notion  by  the  witness  cf 
the  Apostle  ?  And  do  you  bring  the  "  chosen 
vessel  "  into  disgrace  by  mixing  him  up  with 
your  wicked  ideas  ?  I  mean,  that,  as  you  can- 
not understand  the  author  of  your  Salvation, 
therefore  the  Apostle  must  be  made  out  to 
have  denied  God.  And  yet,  if  you  wanted 
to  make  use  of  Apostolic  witnesses,  why  did 
you  rest  contented  with  one,  and  pass  over  all 
the  others  in  silence  ?  and  why  did  you  not  at 
once  add  this  :  "  Paul,  an  Apostle  not  of  men 
neither  by  man,  but  by  Jesus  Christ :  "  *  or 
this :  "  We  speak  wisdom  among  the  per- 
fect :  "  and  presently :  "  Whom  none,"  says 
he,  "  of  the  princes  of  this  world  knew ;  for 
had  they  known,  they  would  not  have  crucified 
the  Lord  of  glory."  '2  Or  this  :  "  For  in  Him 
dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bod- 
ily."3 And:  "One  Lord  Jesus  Christ  through 
whom  are  all  things."4  Or  do  you  partly 
agree,  and  partly  disagree  with  the  Apostle, 
and  only  receive  him  so  far  as  in  consequence 
of  the  Incarnation 5  he  names  Christ  man, 
and  repudiate  him  where  he  speaks  of  Him 
as  God  ?  For  Paul  does  not  deny  that  Jesus 
is  man,  but  still  he  confesses  that  that  man 
is  God :  and  declares  that  to  mankind  the 
resurrection  came  by  man  in  such  a  way  that 
he  shows  that  in  that  man  God  arose.  For 
see  whether  he  declares  that  He  who  rose  was 
God,  as  he  bears  his  witness  that  He  who  was 
crucified  was  the  Lord  of  glory. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

The  heretics  attribute  to  Christ  only  the  shadow  of  Divinity, 
and  so  assert  that  he  is  to  be  worshipped  together  with 
God  but  not  as  God. 

But  still  in  order  to  avoid  thinking  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  as  one  of  the  whole  mass  of  peo- 
ple, you  have  given  to  Him  some-  glory,  by 
attributing  to  Him  honour  as  a  saint,  but  not 
Deity  as  true  man  and  true  God.  For  what 
do  you  say  ?  "  God  brought  about  the  Lord's 
Incarnation.  Let  us  honour  the  form  of  the 
Theodochos 6  together  with  God,  as  one  form 
of  Godhead,  as  a  figure  that  cannot  be  severed 
from  the  Divine  link,  as  an  image  of  the  un- 


i  Gal.  i.  i. 

2  i  Cor.  ii.  6,  8. 


3  Col.  ii.  q. 

4  i  Cor.  viii.  6. 


5  Disfiensatio. 
«  Cf.  V.  ii. 


BOOK   VII. 


609 


seen  God."  Above  you  said  that  Adam  was 
the  image  of  God,  here  you  call  Christ  the 
image :  the  one  you  speak  of  as  a  statue,  and 
the  other  also  as  a  statue.  But  I  suppose  we 
ought  for  God's  honour  to  be  grateful  to  you, 
because  you  grant  that  the  form  of  the  Theo- 
dochos  should  be  worshipped  together  with 
God  :  in  which  you  wrong  Him  rather  than 
honour  Him.  For  in  this  you  do  not  attribute 
to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  the  glory  of  Deity, 
but  you  deny  it.  By  a  subtle  and  wicked  art 
you  say  that  He  is  to  be  worshipped  together 
with  God  in  order  that  you  may  not  have  to 
confess  that  He  is  God,  and  by  the  very  state- 
ment in  which  you  seem  deceitfully  to  join 
Him  with  God,  you  really  sever  Him  from 
God.  For  when  you  blasphemously  say  that 
He  is  certainly  not  to  be  adored  as  God,  but 
to  be  worshipped  together  with  God,  you  thus 
grant  to  Him  an  union  of  nearness  to  Divin- 
ity, in  order  to  get  rid  of  the  truth  of  His 
Divinity.  Oh,  you  most  wicked  and  crafty 
enemy  of  God,  you  want  to  perpetrate  the 
crime  of  denying  God  under  pretext  of  con- 
fessing Him.  You  say  :  Let  us  worship  Him 
as  a  figure  that  cannot  be  severed  from  the 
Divine  will,  as  an  image  of  the  unseen  God. 
It  is  I  suppose,  then,  owing  to  His  kind  acts 
that  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  has  obtained 
among  us  honour  as  Creator  and  Redeemer. 
If  then  we  were  redeemed  by  Him  from  eter- 
nal destruction,  in  calling  our  Redeemer  a 
figure  we  are  endeavouring  indeed  to  respond 
to  His  kindness  and  goodness,  by  a  worthy 
service  and  a  worthy  allegiance,  if  we  try  to 
get  rid  of  that  glory  which  He  did  not  refuse 
to  bring  low  for  our  sakes. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

How  those  are  wrong  who  say  that  the  birth  of  Christ  was 
a  secret,  since  it  was  clearly  shown  even  to  the  patriarch 
Jacob. 

But  I  suppose  you  excuse  the  degradation 
offered  to  the  Lord  by  means  of  a  subordinate 
honour,  by  the  words  "  as  the  image  of  the 
secret  God."  By  the  fact  that  you  term  Him 
an  image  you  compare  Him  to  man's  estate. 
In  speaking  of  Him  as  the  image  of  the  secret 
God,  you  detract  from  the  honour  plainly  due  to 
Him.  For  "  God,"  says  David,  "  shall  plainly 
come ;  our  God,  and  shall  not  keep  silence."  1 
And  He  surely  came  and  did  not  keep  silence, 
who  before  that  He  in  His  own  person  uttered 
anything  after  His  birth,  made  known  His  ad- 
vent by  both  earthly  and  heavenly  witnesses 
alike,  while  the  star  points  Him  out,  the  magi 


1  Ps.  xlix.  ( 1.)  3. 


adore  Him,  and  angels  declare  Him.  What 
more  do  you  want?  His  voice  was  yet  silent 
on  earth,  and  His  glory  was  already  crying 
aloud  in  heaven.  Do  you  say  then  that  God 
was  and  is  secret  in  Him  ?  But  this  was  not 
the  announcement  of  the  Prophets,  of  the 
Patriarchs,  aye  and  of  the  whole  Law.  For 
they  did  not  say  that  He  would  be  secret, 
whose  coming  they  all  foretold.  You  err  in 
your  wretched  blindness,  seeking  grounds  for 
blasphemy  and  not  finding  them.  You  say 
that  He  was  secret  even  after  His  advent.  I 
maintain  that  He  was  not  secret  even  before 
His  advent.  For  did  the  mystery  of  God  to 
be  born  of  a  Virgin  escape  the  knowledge 
of  that  celebrated  Patriarch  on  whom  the 
vision  of  God  present  with  him  conferred  a 
title,  whereby  from  the  name  of  Supplanter  he 
rose  to  the  name  of  Israel  ?  Who,  when  from 
the  struggle  with  the  man  who  wrestled  with 
him  he  understood  the  mystery  of  the  Incar- 
nation yet  to  come,  said,  "  I  have  seen  God 
face  to  face,  and  my  life  is  preserved."  2  What, 
I  pray  you,  had  he  seen,  for  him  to  believe 
that  he  had  seen  God?  Did  God  manifest 
Himself  to  him  in  the  midst  of  thunder  and 
lightning  ?  or  when  the  heavens  were  opened, 
did  the  dazzling  face  of  the  Deity  show  itself 
to  him  ?  Most  certainly  not  :  but  rather  on 
the  contrary  he  saw  a  man  and  acknowledged 
a  God.  O  truly  worthy  of  the  name  he  re- 
ceived, as  with  the  eyes  of  the  soul  rather  than 
of  the  body  he  earned  the  honour  of  a  title 
given  by  God  !  He  saw  a  human  form  wrest- 
ling with  him,  and  declared  that  he  saw  God. 
He  certainly  knew  that  that  human  form  was 
indeed  God :  for  in  that  form  in  which  God 
then  appeared,  in  the  selfsame  form  He  was 
in  very  truth  afterwards  to  come.  Although 
why  should  we  be  surprised  that  so  great  a 
patriarch  unhesitatingly  believed  what  God 
Himself  so  plainly  showed  in  His  own  Person 
to  him,  when  he  said,  "  I  have  seen  God  face 
to  face  and  my  life  is  preserved."  How  did 
God  show  to  him  so  much  of  the  presence  of 
Deity,  that  he  could  say  that  the  face  of  God 
was  shown  to  him  ?  For  it  seems  that  only  a 
man  had  appeared  to  him,  whom  he  had  actu- 
ally beaten  in  the  struggle.  But  God  was  cer- 
tainly bringing  this  about  by  precursory  signs, 
that  there  might   not  be  any  one  to  disbelieve 


2  Gen.  xxxii.  30. 

The  name  Israel  was  in  the  4th  and  5th  centuries  commonly  ex- 
plained to  mean  the  "  man  seeing  God  "  as  if  it  came  from  IS^N; 
ilfO.  and  7X"     S.  Jerome  (Qusst.   in  Genesim  c.  xxxii.  ver.  27, 

28)  rejects  this  interpretation  as  forced,  and  prefers  "  a  Prince  with 
God.  Hence  the  rendering  in  the  A.  V.  "  For  as  a  prince  hast  thou 
power  with  God  and  with  men  and  hast  prevailed."  This  however 
is  now  generally  rejected,  and  the  right  interpretation  of  the  name 
appears  to  be  "  He  who  striveth  with  God."  Cf.  R.  V.  "  For  thou 
hast  striven  with  God  and  with  men,  and  hast  prevailed."  Cf.  the 
Conferences,  Pref.  and  V.  xxiii.  XII.  xi. 


6io 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


that  God  was  born  of  man,  when  already  long 
before  the  Patriarch  had  seen  God  in  human 
form. 


CHAPTER   X. 

He  collects  more  witnesses  of  the  same  fact. 

But  why  am  I  lingering  so  long  over  one 
instance,  as  if  many  were  wanting  ?  For  even 
then  how  could  the  fact  that  God  was  to  come 
in  the  flesh  escape  the  knowledge  of  men, 
when  the  Prophet  said  openly  as  if  to  all  man- 
kind of  Him  :  "  Behold  your  God  ;  "  and  else- 
where :  "  Behold  our  God."  And  this  :  "  God 
the  mighty,  the  Father  of  the  world  to  come, 
the  Prince  of  Peace  ;  "  and  :  "  of  His  kingdom 
there  shall  be  no  end."  1  But  also  when  He 
had  already  come,  could  the  fact  of  His  having 
come  escape  the  knowledge  of  those  who 
openly  confessed  that  He  had  come  ?  Was 
Peter  ignorant  of  the  coming  of  God,  when  he 
said,  "  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 
living  God?"2  Did  not  Martha  know  what 
she  was  saying  or  whom  she  believed  in,  when 
she  said,  "  Yea,  Lord,  I  have  believed  that  Thou 
art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God,  who 
art  come  into  this  world  ? "  3  And  all  those 
men,  who  sought  from  Him  the  cure  of  their 
sicknesses,  or  the  restoration  of  their  limbs,  or 
the  life  of  their  dead,  did  they  ask  these  things 
from  man's  weakness,  or  from  God's  omnipo- 
tence ? 

CHAPTER   XI. 

How  the  devil  was  forced  by  many  reasons  to  the  view  that 
Christ  was  God. 

Finally  as  for  the  devil  himself,  when  he 
was  tempting  Him  with  every  show  of  allure- 
ments, and  every  art  of  his  wickedness,  what 
was  it  that  in  his  ignorance  he  suspected,  or 
wanted  to  find  out  by  tempting  Him  ?  Or  what 
so  greatly  moved  him,  that  he  sought  God 
under  the  humble  form  of  man  ?  Had  he 
learned  that  by  previous  proofs  ?  Or  had  he 
known  of  anyone  who  came  as  God  in  man's 
body  ?  Most  certainly  not.  But  it  was  by  the 
mighty  evidence  of  signs,  by  mighty  results  of 
actions,  by  the  words  of  the  Truth  Himself 
that  he  was  driven  to  suspect  and  examine 
into  this  matter :'  inasmuch  as  he  had  already 
once  heard  from  John  :  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of 
God,  behold  Him  who  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
the  world."  4  And  again  from  the  same  person  : 
"  I  have  need  to  be  baptized  of  Thee,  and 
comest  Thou  to  me  ?  "  5  The  dove  also  which 
came  down  from  heaven  and  stopped  over  the 


1  Isa.  xl.  9;  xxv.  9;  ix.  6,  7. 

2  S.  Matt.  xvi.  16. 


3  S.  John  xi.  27. 

4  S.  John  i.  29. 


6  S.  Matt.  iii.  14. 


Lord's  head  had  made  itself  a  clear  and  open 
proof  of  a  God  who  declared  Himself.  The 
voice  too  which  was  sent  from  God  not  in 
riddles  or  figures  had  moved  him,  when  it 
said:  "Thou  art  My  beloved  Son,  in  Thee  I  am 
well  pleased."6  And  though  he  saw  a  man 
outwardly  in  Jesus,  yet  he  was  searching  for 
the  Son  of  God,  when  he  said  :  "  If  Thou  art 
the  Son  of  God,  command  that  these  stones  be 
made  bread."  7  Did  the  contemplation  of  the 
man  drive  away  the  devil's  suspicions  of  His 
Divinity,  so  that  owing  to  the  fact  that  he 
saw  a  man,  he  did  not  believe  that  He  could 
be  God  ?  Most  certainly  not.  But  what  does 
he  say  ?  "  If  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God,  com- 
mand that  these  stones  be  made  bread." 
Certainly  he  had  no  doubt  about  the  possi- 
bility of  that,  the  existence  of  which  he  was 
examining  into.  His  anxiety  was  about  its 
truth.  There  was  no  security  as  to  its  im- 
possibility. 

CHAPTER   XII. 

He  compares  this  notion  and  reasonable  suspicion  of  the  devil 
with  the  obstinate  and  inflexible  idea  of  his  opponents,  and 
shows  that  this  last  is  worse  and  more  blasphemous  than 
the  former. 

But  he  certainly  knew  that  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  was  born  of  Mary:  he  knew  that  He 
was  wrapped  in  swaddling  clothes  and  laid  in 
a  manger :  that  PI  is  childhood  was  that  of  a 
poor  person  at  the  commencement  of  His 
human  life ;  and  His  infancy  without  the 
proper  accessories  of  cradles  :  further  he  did 
not  doubt  that  He  had  true  flesh,  and  was 
born  a  true  man.  And  why  did  this  seem  to 
him  not  enough  for  him  to  be  secure  in  ?  Why 
did  he  believe  that  He  could  not  be  God, 
whom  he  knew  to  be  very  man  ?  Learn  then, 
you  wretched  madman,  learn,  you  lunatic,  you 
cruel  sinner,  learn,  I  pray,  even  from  the  devil, 
to  lessen  your  blasphemy.  He  said  :  "  If 
Thou  art  the  Son  of  God."  You  say:  "  Thou 
art  not  the  Son  of  God."  You  deny  what  he 
asked  about.  No  one  was  ever  yet  found  but 
you,  to  outdo  the  devil  in  blasphemy.  That 
which  he  confessed  to  be  possible  in  the  case 
of  the  Lord,  you  do  not  believe  to  have  been 
possible. 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

How  the  devil  always  retained  this  notion  of  Christ's  Divinity 
(because  of  His  secret  working  which  he  experienced)  even 
up  to  His  Cross  and  Death. 

But  perhaps  he  afterwards  ceased  and 
rested,   and   when   his   temptations  were  van- 


's S.  Matt.  iii.  17. 


7  S.  Luke  iv.  3. 


BOOK   VII. 


611 


quished  laid  aside  his  suspicion  because  he 
found  no  result  ?  Nay,  it  rather  remained 
always  in  him,  and  even  up  to  the  very  cross 
of  the  Lord  the  suspicion  lasted  in  him  and 
was  increased  by  peculiar  terrors.  What  need 
is  there  of  anything  further  ?  Not  even  then 
did  he  cease  to  think  of  Him  as  the  Son  of 
God,  after  that  he  knew  that  such  licence  was 
granted  to  His  persecutors  against  Him.  But 
the  crafty  foe  saw  even  in  the  midst  of  His 
bodily  sufferings  the  signs  of  Divinity,  and 
though  he  would  have  much  preferred  Him  to 
be  a  (mere)  man,  was  yet  forced  to  suspect 
that  He  was  God :  for  though  he  would  have 
preferred  to  believe  what  he  wanted,  yet  he 
was  driven  by  surest  proofs  to  that  which  he 
feared.  And  no  wonder  :  for  although  he  be- 
held Him  spitted  on,  and  scourged,  and  dis- 
graced, and  led  to  the  Cross,  yet  he  saw  Divine 
powers  abounding  even  in  the  midst  of  the 
indignities  and  wrongs ;  when  the  veil  of 
the  temple  is  rent,  when  the  sun  hides  itself, 
the  day  is  darkened,  and  all  things  feel  the 
effects  of  the  Passion :  all  things  even,  which 
know  not  God,  acknowledge  the  work  of 
Deity.  And  therefore  the  devil  seeing  this, 
and  trembling,  tried  in  every  way  to  arrive 
at  the  knowledge  of  His  Godhead,  even  at 
the  very  death  of  the  manhood,  saying  in 
the  person  of  those  who  crucified  Him  :  "  If 
He  be  the  Son  of  God,  let  Him  come  down 
now  from  the  Cross,  and  we  will  believe  Him."  1 
He  certainly  perceived  that  by  His  bodily  Pas- 
sion our  Lord  God  was  working  out  the  re- 
demption of  man's  salvation,  and  also  that  by 
it  he  was  being  destroyed  and  subdued,  while 
we  were  being  redeemed  and  saved.  And  so 
the  enemy  of  mankind  wanted  by  every  means 
and  every  wile  to  defeat  that  which  he  knew 
was  being  done  for  the  redemption  of  all  men. 
"  If,"  he  says,  "  He  be  the  Son  of  God,  let 
Him  come  down  now  from  the  Cross  and  we 
will  believe  Him  :  "  on  purpose  that  the  Lord 
might  be  moved  by  the  reproach  of  the  words, 
and  destroy  the  mystery,  while  He  avenged 
the  wrong.  You  see  then  that  the  Lord  even 
when  hanging  on  the  Cross  was  termed  the 
Son  of  God.  You  see  that  they  suspect  the 
fact  to  which  they  refer.  And  so  do  you  learn, 
as  I  said  above,  even  from  His  persecutors, 
even  from  the  devil,  to  believe  on  the  Son  of 
God.  Who  ever  came  up  to  the  unbelief  of 
the  devil  ?  Who  went  beyond  it  ?  He  sus- 
pected that  He  was  the  Son  of  God  even 
when  He  endured  death.  You  deny  it  even 
when  He  has  risen.  He  suspected  that  He 
was  God,  from  whom  He  hid  Himself.  Yon, 
to  whom  He  has  proved  it,  deny  it. 

S.  Matt,  xxvii.  42. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

He  shows  how  heretics  pervert  holy  Scripture,  by  replying  to 
the  argument  drawn  from  the  Apostle's  words,  "  Without 
lather,  without  mother,"  etc. :   Heb.  vii. 

You  then  make  use  of  the  holy  Scriptures 
against  God,  and  try  to  bring  His  own  wit- 
nesses against  Him.  But  how  ?  Truly  so  as 
to  become  a  false  accuser  not  only  of  God,  but 
of  the  evidences  themselves.  Nor  indeed  is 
it  wonderful  that,  as  you  cannot  do  what  you 
want,  you  only  do  what  you  can  :  as  you  can- 
not turn  the  sacred  witnesses  against  God,  you 
do  what  you  can,  and  pervert  them.  For  you 
say:  Then  Paul  tells  a  lie,  when  he  says  of 
Christ :  "  Without  mother,  without  genea- 
logy." 2  I  ask  you,  of  whom  do  you  think  that 
Paul  said  this  ?  Of  the  Son  and  Word  of  God, 
or  of  the  Christ,  whom  you  separate  from  the 
Son  of  God,  and  blasphemously  assert  to  be  a 
mere  man  ?  If  of  the  Christ,  whom  you  main- 
tain to  be  a  mere  man,  how  could  a  man  be 
born  without  a  mother  and  without  a  genea- 
logy on  the  mother's  side  ?  But  if  of  the  Word 
of  God  and  Son  of  God  —  what  can  we  make  of 
it,  when  the  same  Apostle,  your  own  witness, 
as  you  impiously  imagine,  testifies  in  the  same 
place  and  by  the  same  witness,  that  He  whom 
you  assert  to  be  without  mother,  was  also  with- 
out father ;  saying,  "  Without  father,  without 
mother,  without  genealogy  "  ?  It  follows  then 
that  if  you  use  the  Apostle's  witness,  since 
you  assert  that  the  Son  of  God  was  "  without 
mother,"  you  must  also  be  guilty  of  the  blas- 
phemy that  He  was  "without  father."  You 
see  then  in  what  a  downfall  of  impiety  you 
have  landed  yourself,  in  your  eagerness  for 
your  perversity  and  wickedness,  so  that,  while 
you  say  that  the  Son  of  God  had  not  a  mother, 
you  must  also  deny  Him  a  Father  —  a  thing 
which  no  one  yet  since  the  world  began,  ex- 
cept perhaps  a  madman,  ever  did.  And  this, 
whether  with  greater  wickedness  or  folly,  I 
hardly  know;  for  what  is  more  foolish  and 
silly  than  to  give  the  name  of  Son  and  to  try 
to  keep  back  the  name  of  Father  ?  But  you 
say  I  don't  keep  it  back,  I  don't  deny  it.  And 
what  madness  then  drove  you  to  quote  that 
passage,  where,  while  you  say  that  He  had  no 
mother,  you  must  seem  also  to  deny  to  Him  a 
Father  ?  For  as  in  the  same  passage  He  is 
said  to  be  without  mother  and  also  without 
father,  it  follows  that  if  it  can  be  understood 
that  there  He  is  without  mother,  in  the  same 
way  in  which  we  understand  that  He  is  with- 
out mother,  we  must  also  believe  that  He  is 
without  father.     But  that  hasty  craze  for  deny- 

2  Heb.  vii.  3. 


6l2 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


ing  God  did  not  see  this  ;  and  when  it  quoted 
mutilated,  what  was  written  entire,  it  failed  to 
see  that  the  shameless  and  palpable  lie  could 
be  refuted  by  laying  open  the  contents  of  the 
sacred  volume.  O  foolish  blasphemy,  and 
madness  !  which,  while  it  failed  to  see  what  it 
ought  to  follow,  had  not  the  wit  to  see  even 
what  could  be  read  :  as  if,  because  it  could 
get  rid  of  its  own  intelligence,  it  could  get 
rid  of  the  power  of  reading  from  everybody 
else,  or  as  if  everybody  would  lose  their  eyes 
in  their  heads  for  reading,  because  it  had  lost 
the  eyes  of  the  mind.  Hear  then,  you  heretic, 
the  passage  you  have  garbled  :  hear  in  full 
and  completely,  what  you  quoted  mutilated 
and  hacked  about.  The  Apostle  wants  to 
make  clear  to  every  one  the  twofold  birth  of 
God  —  and  in  order  to  show  how  the  Lord 
was  born  in  the  Godhead  and  in  flesh,  he  says, 
"  Without  father,  without  mother  : "  for  the 
one  belongs  to  the  birth  of  Divinity,  the  other 
to  that  of  the  flesh.  For  as  He  was  begotten 
in  His  Divine  nature  "without  mother,"  so 
He  is  in  the  body  "  without  father :  "  and  so 
though  He  is  neither  without  father  nor  with- 
out mother,  we  must  believe  in  Him  "  without 
father  and  without  mother."  For  if  you  regard 
Him  as  He  is  begotten  of  the  Father,  He  is 
without  mother:  if,  as  born  of  His  mother,  He 
is  without  father.  And  so  in  each  of  these 
births  He  has  one :  in  both  together  He  is 
without  each  :  for  the  birth  of  Divinity  had  no 
need  of  mother,  and  for  the  birth  of  His  body, 
He  was  Himself  sufficient,  without  a  father. 
Therefore  says  the  Apostle  "  Without  mother, 
without  genealogy." 


CHAPTER    XV. 

How  Christ  could  be  said  by  the  Apostle  to  be  without 
genealogy. 

How  does  he  say  that  the  Lord  was  "  with- 
out genealogy,"  when  the  Gospel  of  the  Evan- 
gelist Matthew  begins  with  the  Saviour's 
genealogy,  saying  :  "  The  book  of  the  gene- 
rations of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  David,  the 
Son  of  Abraham  "  ? 1  Therefore  according  to 
the  Evangelist  He  has  a  genealogy,  and  accord- 
ing to  the  Apostle,  He  has  not :  for  according 
to  the  Evangelist,  He  has  it  on  the  mother's 
side,  according  to  the  Apostle  He  has  not,  as 
He  springs  from  the  Father.  And  so  the  Apos- 
tle well  says :  "  Without  father,  without  mother, 
without  genealogy  :  "  and  where  he  lays  down 
that  He  was  begotten  without  mother,  there 
also  he  records  that  He  was  without  genea- 
logy.   And  thus  as  regards  both  the  nativities  of 

1  S.  Matt.  i.  i. 


the  Lord,  the  writings  of  the  Evangelist  and 
of  the  Apostle  agree  together.  For  according 
to  the  Evangelist  He  has  a  genealogy  "  without 
father,"  when  born  in  the  flesh  :  and  according 
to  the  Apostle,  the  Lord  has  not,  when  begot- 
ten in  His  Divine  nature  "  without  mother ;  " 
as  Isaiah  says:  "But  who  shall  declare  His 
generation  ? "  - 

CHAPTER  XVi. 

He  shows  that  like  the  devil  when  tempting  Christ,  the  heretics 
garble  and  pervert  holy  Scripture. 

Why  then,  you  heretic,  did  you  not  in  this 
way  quote  the  whole  and  entire  passage  which 
you  had  read  ?  So  you  see  that  the  Apostle 
laid  down  that  the  Lord  was  "without  mother" 
in  the  same  way  in  which  he  laid  down  that 
He  was  born  "  without  father  :  "  that  we  might 
know  that  He  is  "  without  mother  "  in  the  same 
way  in  which  we  understand  Him  to  be  "with- 
out father."  And  as  it  is  impossible  to  believe 
Him  to  be  altogether  "  without  father,"  so  we 
cannot  understand  that  He  is  altogether  "with- 
out mother."  Why  then,  you  heretic,  did  you 
not  in  this  way  quote  what  you  had  read  in  the 
Apostle,  entire  and  unmutilated  ?  But  you  in- 
sert part,  and  omit  part ;  and  garble  the  words 
of  truth  in  order  that  you  may  be  able  to  build 
up  your  false  notions  by  your  wicked  act.  I 
see  who  was  your  master.  We  must  believe 
that  you  had  his  instruction,  whose  example 
you  are  following.  For  so  the  devil  in  the 
gospel  when  tempting  the  Lord  said  :  "  If  Thou 
art  the  Son  of  God,  cast  Thyself  down.  For  it 
is  written  that  He  shall  give  His  angels  charge 
concerning  Thee  to  keep  Thee  in  all  Thy 
ways."  3  And  when  he  had  said  this,  he  left 
out  the  context  and  what  belongs  to  it ;  viz., 
"  Thou  shalt  walk  upon  the  asp  and  the  basil- 
isk :  and  thou  shalt  trample  under  foot  the  lion 
and  the  dragon."4  Surely  he  cunningly  quoted 
the  previous  verse  and  left  out  the  latter :  for 
he  quoted  the  one  to  deceive  Him  :  he  held 
his  tongue  about  the  latter  to  avoid  condemn- 
ing himself.  For  he  knew  that  he  himself 
was  signified  by  the  asp  and  basilisk,  the  lion 
and  dragon  in  the  Prophet's  words.  So  then 
you  also  bring  forward  a  part  and  omit  a  part; 
and  quote  the  one  to  deceive;  and  omit  the 
other  for  fear  lest  if  you  were  to  quote  the 
whole,  you  might  condemn  your  own  decep- 
tion. But  it  is  now  time  to  pass  on  to  further 
matters,  for  by  dwelling  too  long  on  particular 
points,  as  we  are  led  to  do  by  the  desire  of 
giving  a  full  answer,  we  exceed  the  limits  even 
of  a  longish  book. 


2  Isa.  liii.  S. 


3  S.  Luke  iv.  g,  io. 


*  Ps.  xc.  (xci.)  13. 


BOOK   VII. 


61 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

That  the  glory  and  honour  of  Christ  is  not  to  be  ascribed  to 
the  Holy  Ghost  in  such  a  way  as  to  deny  that  it  proceeds 
from  Christ  Himself,  as  if  all  that  excellency,  which  was  in 
Him,  was  another's  and  proceeded  from  another  source. 

You  say  then  in  another  discussion,  nay 
rather  in  another  blasphemy  of  yours,  "  and  He 
separated  l  the  Spirit  from  the  Divine  nature 
Who  created  His  humanity.  For  Scripture 
says  that  that  which  was  born  of  Mary  is  of 
the  Holy  Ghost. 2  Who  also  filled  with  right- 
eousness (justitia)  that  which  was  created : 
for  it  says  '  He  appeared  in  the  flesh,  was  jus- 
tified in  the  Spirit.'  3  Again  :  Who  made  Him 
also  to  be  feared  by  the  devils :  '  For  I,'  He 
says,  '  by  the  Spirit  of  God  cast  out  devils.'  4 
Who  also  made  His  flesh  a  temple.  '  For  I 
saw  His  spirit  descending  like  a  dove  and 
abiding  upon  Him.' 5  Again :  Who  granted 
to  Him  His  ascension  into  Heaven.  For  it 
says,  "  Giving  a  commandment  to  the  apostles 
whom  He  had  chosen,  by  the  Holy  Ghost  He 
was  taken  up."  6  Finally  that  it  was  He  who 
granted  such  glory  to  Christ."  The  whole  of 
your  blasphemy  then  consists  in  this  :  that 
Christ  had  nothing  of  Himself :  nor  did  He,  a 
mere  man,  as  you  say,  receive  anything  from 
the  Word,  i.e.,  the  Son  of  God  ;  but  everything 
in  Him  was  the  gift  of  the  Spirit.  If  then 
we  can  show  that  all  that  which  you  refer  to 
the  Spirit,  is  His  own,  what  remains  but  that 
we  prove  that  He  whom  you  therefore  would 
have  taken  to  be  a  man,  because  as  you  say 
everything  which  He  has  is  another's,  is  there- 
fore God,  because  everything  which  He  has  is 
His  own?  And  indeed  we  will  prove  this  not 
only  by  discussion  and  argument,  but  by  the 
voice  of  Divinity  Itself :  for  nothing  testifies 
of  God  better  than  things  divine.  And  be- 
cause nothing  knows  itself  better  than  the 
very  glory  of  God,  we  believe  nothing  on  the 
subject  of  God  with  greater  right  than  those 
writings  in  which  God  Himself  is  His  own 
witness.  First  then,  as  to  this  that  you  say 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  created  His  humanity ; 
we  might  take  it  simply,  if  we  could  ac- 
knowledge that  you  had  not  brought  it  for- 
ward in  the  interests  of  unbelief.  For  neither 
do  we  deny  that  the  flesh  of  the  Lord  was  con- 
ceived by  the  Holy  Ghost :  but  we  assert  that 
the  body  was  conceived  by  the  co-operation  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  in  such  a  way  that  we  can  say 
that  His  Humanity7  was  created  for  Himself 
by  the  Son  of  God,  as  the  Holy  Spirit  Itself 
says  in  holy  Scripture,  testifying  that  "  Wisdom 
hath  builded  for  Itself  a  house."  8     You  see 

1  Separavit  (Petschenig).    *  S.  Luke  xi.  20.     7  Hominem  suum. 

2  S.  Matt.  i.  20.  5  S.  John  i.  32.       8  prov.  ;x.  r, 

3  1  Tim.  iii.  16.  6  Acts  i.  2. 


then   that   that  which   was   conceived   by   the 
Holy  Ghost  was  built  and  perfected  by  the  Son 
of  God :  not  that  the  work  of  the  Son  of  God 
is  one  thing,  and  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
another  :    but  that   through   the   unity   of  the 
Godhead  and  glory  the  operation  of  the  Spirit 
is  the   building  of  the    Son   of   God ;  and  the 
building  of  the  Son  of  God  is  the  co-operation 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.      And  so  we  read  not  only 
that  the   Holy  Ghost   came   upon  the  Virgin, 
but  also  that  the  power  of  the  Most  High  over- 
shadowed the  Virgin  ;  that  since  Wisdom  Itself 
is  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead,  no  one  might 
doubt  that  when  Wisdom  built  Itself  a  house 
all  the   fulness   of   the  Godhead  was  present. 
But  the  wretched  hardness  of  your  blasphemy, 
while  it  tries   to  sever  Christ  from  the  Son  of 
God,  fails   to   see   that   it   is  entirely  severing 
the  nature  of   the  Godhead  from  Itself.      Un- 
less perhaps  you  believe  that  the  house  is  there- 
fore built  for  Him  by  the  Holy  Ghost  because 
He   Himself   was  insufficient  and  incapable  of 
building  for   Himself  an  hcuse.     But  it  is  as 
absurd  as  it  is  wild,  to  believe  that  He,  whcm 
we  believe  to  have  created  the  whole  universe 
of   things    heavenly  and  earthly  by  His  will, 
was  unable   to  build   for  Himself  a  body  :  es- 
pecially as  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  His 
power,  and  the  Divinity  and  Glory  of  the  Trin- 
ity are  so  united  and  inseparable,  that  we  can- 
not   think   of    anything   at   all  in   One   Person 
of    the  Trinity,  which   can  be   separated  from 
the  fulness  of   the  Ccdhead.     Therefore  when 
this   is   laid   down   and  grasped ;  viz.,  that  ac- 
cording  to   the   faith  of  holy  Scripture,  when 
the   Holy   Ghost  came  upon  (the  Virgin)  and 
the  power    cf    the   Most    High  overshadowed 
her,  Wisdom  builded  Itself  an  hcuse  ;  the  rest 
of  the    slanders   of    your  blasphemy   come  to 
nothing.      For   neither  is  it  doubtful  that  He 
made   all   things  by  Himself  and  in  Himself, 
in  whose  name  and  faith,  the  faith  even  of  be- 
lievers can  do   anything.     For  neither  did  He 
need  the    aid  of  another,  as  neither  have  they 
needed    it,    who   have   trusted    in   His  power. 
And  so  as  for  your  assertions  that  He  was  jus- 
tified by  the    Spirit,  and  that  the  Spirit  made 
Him  to  be  feared  by  the  devils,  and  that  His 
flesh  became    the   temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  that   He  was    taken  up  by  the  Spirit  into 
heaven,   they  are    all    blasphemous  and  wild  : 
not  because  we  are  to  believe  that  in  all  these 
things  which   He  Himself    did,  the  unity  and 
co-operation  of  the  Spirit  was  wanting  —  since 
the  Godhead  is  never  wanting  to  Itself,  and  the 
power  of  the  Trinity  was  ever   present  in  the 
Saviour's  works  —  but  because  you  will  have 
it  that  the  Holy  Ghost  gave  assistance   to  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  if  He  had  been   feeble 
and  powerless ;    and  that   He  granted    those 


614 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF  JOHN    CASSIAN. 


things  to  Him,  which  He  was  unable  to  pro- 
cure for  Himself.  Learn  then  from  sacred 
witnesses  to  believe  God,  and  not  to  mingle 
falsehood  with  truth :  for  the  subject  does  not 
admit  it,  and  common  sense  abhors  the  idea 
of  mingling  the  notions  of  the  spirit  of  the 
devil  with  the  witnesses  that  are  Divine. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


How  we  are  to  understand  the  Apostle's  words  :  "  He  appeared 
in  the  flesh,  was  justified  in  the  Spirit,"  etc. 


For  to  begin  with  this  assertion  of  yours 
that  the  Spirit  filled  with  righteousness  (jus- 
titia)  what  was  created,  and  your  attempts  to 
prove  this  by  the  evidence  of  the  Apostle, 
where  he  says  that  "  He  appeared  in  the  flesh, 
was  justified  in  the  Spirit,"  you  make  each 
statement  in  an  unsound  sense  and  wild  spirit. 
For  you  make  this  assertion  ;  viz.,  that  you  will 
have  it  that  He  was  filled  with  righteousness 
by  the  Spirit,  in  order  to  show  how  He  was 
void  of  righteousness,  as  you  assert  that  the 
being  filled  with  it  was  given  to  Him.  And  as 
for  your  use  of  the  evidence  of  the  Apostle  on 
this  matter,  you  garble  the  arrangement  and 
meaning  of  the  sacred  passage.  For  the 
Apostle's  statement  is  not  as  you  have  quoted 
it,  mutilated  and  spoilt.  For  what  says  the 
Apostle  ?  "  And  evidently  great  is  the  mys- 
tery of  Godliness,  which  was  manifested  in 
the  flesh,  was  justified  in  the  Spirit."  2  You 
see  then  that  the  Apostle  declared  that  the 
mystery  or  sacrament  of  Godliness  was  justi- 
fied. For  he  was  not  so  forgetful  of  his  own 
words  and  teaching  as  to  say  that  He  was  void 
of  righteousness,  whom  he  had  always  pro- 
claimed as  righteousness,  saying  :  "  Who  was 
made  unto  us  righteousness  and  sanctification 
and  redemption."'2  Elsewhere  also  he  says: 
"  But  ye  were  washed,  but  ye  were  justified, 
but  ye  were  sanctified  in  the  name  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."8  How  far  then  from  Him  was 
it  to  need  being  filled  with  righteousness,  as 
He  Himself  filled  all  things  with  righteous- 
ness, and  for  His  glory  to  be  without  right- 
eousness, whose  very  name  justifies  all  things. 
You  see  then  how  foolish  and  wild  are  your 
blasphemies,  since  you  are  trying  to  take  away 
from  our  Lord  what  is  ever  shed  forth  by  Him 
upon  all  believers  in  such  a  way  that  still  in 
its  continuous  supply  it  is  never  diminished. 


1  i  Tim.  iii.  16. 


i  Cor.  i.  30. 


3  j  Cor.  vi.  11. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 


That  it  was  not  only  the  Spirit,  but  Christ  Himself  also  who 
made  Him  to  be  feared. 


You  say  too  that  the  Spirit  made  Him  to 
be  feared  by  the  devils.  To  reject  and  re- 
fute which,  even  though  the  horrible  cha- 
racter of  the  utterance  is  enough,  we  will  still 
add  some  instances.  Tell  me,  I  pray,  you 
who  say  that  the  fact  that  the  devils  feared 
Him  was  not  His  own  doing  but  another's, 
and  who  will  have  it  that  this  was  not  His 
own  power  but  a  gift,  how  was  it  that  even 
His  name  had  that  power,  of  which  He  Him- 
self was,  according  to  you,  void  ?  How  was  it 
that  in  His  name  devils  were  cast  out,  sick 
persons  were  cured,  dead  men  were  raised  ? 
For  the  Apostle  Peter  says  to  that  lame  man 
who  was  sitting  at  the  beautiful  gate  of  the 
Temple  :  "  In  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  arise 
and  walk."4  And  again  in  the  city  of  Jcppa 
to  the  man  who  had  been  lying  en  his  bed 
paralysed  for  eight  years  he  says,  "^Eneas, 
may  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  heal  thee  :  arise 
and  make  thy  bed  for  thyself." 5  Paul  too 
says  to  the  pythonical  spirit :  "  I  charge  thee 
in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  ccme  out  of  her," 
and  the  devil  came  out  of  her. 6  But  under- 
stand from  this  how  utterly  alien  this  weak- 
ness was  from  our  Lord  :  for  I  do  not  call 
even  those  weak,  whom  He  by  His  name  made 
strong,  since  we  never  heard  of  any  devil  or 
infirmity  able  to  resist  any  of  the  apostles 
since  the  Lord's  resurrection.  How  then  did 
the  Spirit  make  Him  to  be  feared,  who  made 
others  to  be  feared?  Or  was  He  in  Himself 
weak,  whose  faith  even  through  the  instrumen- 
tality of  others  reigned  over  all  things  ?  Fi- 
nally those  men  who  received  power  from  God, 
never  used  that  power  as  if  it  were  their  own  : 
but  referred  the  power  to  Him  from  whom  they 
received  it  :  for  the  power  itself  could  never 
have  any  force  except  through  the  name  of 
Him  who  gave  it.  And  so  both  the  apostles 
and  all  the  servants  of  God  never  did  any 
thing  in  their  own  name,  but  in  the  name  and 
invocation  of  Christ :  for  the  power  itself  de- 
rived its  force  from  the  same  source  as  its 
origin,  and  could  not  be  given  through  the  in- 
strumentality of  the  ministers,  unless  it  had 
come  from  the  Author.  You  then  —  who  say 
that  the  Lord  was  the  same  as  one  of  His  ser- 
vants (for  as  the  apostles  had  nothing  but 
what  they  received  from  their  Lord,  so  you 
make  out  that  the  Lord  Himself  had  nothing 


4  Acts  iii.  6. 


6  Acts  ix.  34. 


6  Acts  xvi.  iS. 


BOOK   VII. 


6i5 


but  what  He  received  from  the  Spirit ;  and 
thus  you  make  out  that  everything  that  He 
had,  He  had  not  as  Lord,  but  had  received  it 
as  a  servant),  do  you  tell  me  then,  how  it  was 
that  He  used  this  power  as  His  own  and  not  as 
something  which  He  had  received  ?  For  what 
do  we  read  of  Him?  He  says  to  the  paraly- 
tic :  "  Arise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  go  to  thine 
house."  1  And  again  to  a  father  who  pleads 
on  behalf  of  his  child,  He  says  :  "  Go  thy 
way :  thy  son  liveth." 2  And  where  an  only 
son  of  his  mother  was  being  carried  forth  for 
burial,  "  Young  man,"  He  says,  "  I  say  unto 
thee,  Arise."  3  Did  He  then,  like  those  who 
received  power  from  God,  ask  that  power 
might  be  given  to  Him  for  performing  these 
things  by  the  invocation  of  the  Divine  Name  ? 
Why  did  He  not  Himself  work  by  the  name  of 
the  Spirit,  just  as  the  apostles  wrought  by  His 
Name  ?  Finally,  what  does  the  gospel  itself 
state  about  Him  ?  It  says  :  "  He  was  teach- 
ing them  as  one  that  had  authority,  and  not 
like  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees."  4  Or  do  you 
make  out  that  He  was  so  proud  and  haughty 
as  to  put  to  the  credit  of  His  own  might  the 
power  which  (according  to  you)  He  had  re- 
ceived from  God  ?  But  what  do  we  make  of 
the  fact  that  the  power  never  submitted  to  His 
servants,  except  through  the  name  of  its  au- 
thor, and  could  have  no  efficacy  if  the  actor 
claimed  any  of  it  as  his  own  ? 


CHAPTER   XX. 

He  tries  by  stronger  and  weightier  arguments  to  destroy  that 
notion. 

But  why  are  we  so  long  dealing  with  your 
wild  blasphemy,  with  arguments  that  are  plain 
indeed  but  still  slight  ?  Let  us  hear  God  Him- 
self speaking  to  His  disciples :  "  Heal  the 
sick,  raise  the  dead,  cleanse  the  lepers,  cast 
out  devils."  5  And  again  :  "  In  My  name,"  He 
says,  "  ye  shall  cast  out  devils."  6  Had  He  any 
need  of  Another's  name  for  the  exercise  of  His 
power,  who  made  His  own  name  to  be  a 
power?  But  what  is  still  added?  "Behold," 
He  says,  "  I  have  given  you  power  to  tread 
upon  serpents  and  scorpions  and  upon  all  the 
power  of  the  enemy." '  He  Himself  says  that 
He  was  gentle,  as  indeed  He  was,  and  humble 
in  heart.  And  how  was  it  that  as  regards  the 
greatest  possible  power,  He  commanded  others 


1  S.  Matt.  ix.  6. 

2  S.  John  iv.  50. 

3  S.  Luke  vii.  14 


4  S.  Matt.  vii.  29. 
0  S.  Matt.  x.  8. 


6  S.  Mark  xvi.  17. 

7  S.  Luke  x.  19. 


to  work  in  His  own  name,  if  He  Himself 
worked  in  Another's  name  ?  Or  did  He  give 
to  others,  as  if  it  were  His  own,  what  He 
Himself,  according  to  you,  did  not  possess, 
unless  He  received  it  from  Another?  But 
tell  me,  which  of  the  saints  receiving  power 
from  God,  so  worked  ?  Or  would  not  Peter 
have  been  thought  a  lunatic,  or  John  a  mad- 
man, or  Paul  out  of  his  mind,  if  they  had  said 
to  any  sick  folk  :  "  In  our  name  arise  ;  "  or  to 
the  lame :  "  In  our  name  walk  ; "  or  to  the 
dead:  "In  our  name  live;"  or  this  to  some: 
"  We  give  you  power  to  tread  upon  serpents 
and  scorpions  and  upon  all  the  power  of  the 
enemy"?  You  see  then  from  this  your  mad- 
ness :  for  just  as  these  words  are  mad  if  they 
spring  from  man's  assurance,  so  are  you  utterly 
mad  if  you  do  not  see  that  they  come  from 
Divine  power.  For  you  must  admit  one  of 
two  alternatives ;  either  that  man  could  pos- 
sess and  give  Divine  power,  or  at  any  rate  if 
no  man  can  do  this,  that  He  who  could  do  it, 
was  God.  For  no  one  can  grant  of  His  liber- 
ality Divine  power,  except  Him  who  possesses 
it  by  nature. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

That  it  must  be  ascribed  equally  to  Christ  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
that  His  flesh  and  Humanity  became  the  temple  of  God. 

But  there  follows  in  your  blasphemy  that 
His  flesh  was  made  a  temple  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  for  this  reason,  that  John  has  said  : 
"  For  I  saw  the  Spirit  descending  from  heaven 
and  abiding  upon  Him."  8  For  you  try  to  sup- 
port even  this  wild  statement  of  yours  by 
Scriptural  authority :  wherefore  let  us  see 
whether  this  sacred  authority  has  said  that 
which  you  say.  "  For  I  saw,"  it  says,  "  the 
Spirit  descending  like  a  dove,  and  abiding 
upon  Him."  Discern  here,  if  you  can,  which 
is  the  more  powerful,  which  greater,  which 
more  to  be  honoured?  He  who  descended,  or 
He  to  whom  the  descent  was  made  ?  He  who 
brought  down  the  honour,  or  He  to  whom  the 
honour  was  brought  ?  Where  do  you  find  in 
this  passage  that  the  Spirit  made  His  flesh  a 
temple  ?  or  wherein  does  it  lessen  the  honour 
of  God,  if  God  Himself  descended  to  show 
God  to  mankind  ?  For  certainly  we  ought  not 
to  think  that  He  is  less  whose  high  estate  was 
pointed  out,  than  He  who  pointed  out  His 
high  estate.  But  away  with  the  thought  of 
believing  or  making  any  separation  in  the 
Godhead :   for   one   and   the    same   Godhead 


8  S.  John  i.  32. 


6i6 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


and  equal  power  shut  out  altogether  the 
wicked  notion  of  inequality.  And  so  in  this 
matter,  where  there  is  the  Person  of  the  Father 
and  of  the  Son  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
where  it  is  the  Son  of  God  to  whom  the  de- 
scent is  made,  the  Spirit  who  descends,  the 
Father  who  gives  His  witness,  no  one  had 
more  honour,  and  no  one  received  any  slight, 
but  it  all  redounds  equally  to  the  fulness  of 
the  Godhead,  for  each  Person  of  the  Trinity 
contains  within  Himself  the  glory  of  the  whole 
Trinity.  And  so  nothing  further  needs  to  be 
said,  except  only  to  show  the  rise  and  origin 
of  your  blasphemy.  For  thorns  and  thistles 
springing  up  from  the  roots  produce  shoots  of 
their  own  nature,  and  from  their  character 
show  their  origin.  So  then  you  also,  a  thorny 
offshoot  of  the  Pelagian  heresy,  show  in  germ 
just  the  same  that  your  father  is  said  to  have 
had  in  the  root.  For  he  *  (as  Leporius  his  fol- 
lower said)  declared  that  our  Lord  was  made 
the  Christ  by  His  baptism  :  you  say  that  at 
His  baptism  He  was  made  the  temple  of  God 
by  the  Spirit.  The  words  are  not  altogether 
identical  :  but  the  wrong-headedness  is  alto- 
gether the  same. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

That  the  raising  up  of  Christ  into  heaven  is  not  to  be  ascribed 
to  the  Spirit  alone. 

But  you  add  this  also  to  those  impieties  of 
yours  mentioned  above  ;  viz.,  that  the  Spirit 
granted  to  the  Lord  His  ascension  into 
heaven :  showing  by  this  blasphemous  notion 
of  yours  that  you  believe  that  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  was  so  weak  and  powerless  that  had 
not  the  Spirit  raised  Him  up  to  heaven,  you 
fancy  that  He  would  still  at  this  day  have 
been  on  earth.  But  to  prove  this  assertion 
you  bring  forward  a  passage  of  Scripture  :  for 
you  say  "  Giving  commands  to  the  apostles 
whom  He  had  chosen,  by  the  Holy  Ghost  He 
was  raised  up." 2  What  am  I  to  call  you  ? 
What  am  I  to  think  of  you  who  by  corrupting 
the  sacred  writings  contrive  that  their  evi- 
dences should  not  have  the  force  of  evidences? 
A  new  kind  of  audacity,  which  strives  by  its 
impious  arguments  to  manage  that  truth  may 
seem  to  confirm  falsehood.  For  the  Acts  of 
the  Apostles  does  not  say  what  you  make  out. 
For  what  says  the  Scripture  ?  "  What  Jesus 
began  to  do  and  to  teach  until  the  day  in 
which  giving  charge  to  the  apostles  whom  He 

1  Ille  enim  ;  viz.,  Pelagius.  This  appears  to  be  the  true  reading, 
though  one  MS.  followed  by  Gazaeus  has  Leporius  ille  enim  ;  a  read- 
ing which  would  involve  the  supposition  that  there  were  two  persons 
of  the  name  of  Leporius,  master  and  scholar. 

2  Acts  i.  2. 


had  chosen  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  He  Avas  taken 
up."  Which  is  an  instance  of  Hyperbaton, 
and  must  be  understood  in  this  way :  what 
Jesus  began  to  do  and  to  teach  until  the  day 
in  which  he  was  taken  up,  giving  charge  to 
the  apostles  whom  He  had  chosen  by  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  so  that  we  ought  not  perhaps  to 
have  to  give  you  any  further  answer  in  this 
matter  than  that  of  the  passage  itself,  for  the 
entire  passage  ought  to  be  sufficient  for  the  full 
truth,  if  the  mutilation  of  it  was  available  for 
your  falsehood.  But  still,  you,  who  think  that 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  could  not  have  ascended 
into  heaven,  unless  He  had  been  raised  up  by 
the  Spirit;  tell  me  how  is  it  that  He  Himself 
says  "  No  one  hath  ascended  into  heaven  but 
He  who  came  down  from  heaven,  even  the  Son 
of  man  who  is  in  heaven  "  ? 3  Confess  then 
how  foolish  and  absurd  your  notion  is  that  He 
could  not  ascend  into  heaven,  who  is  said, 
although  He  had  descended  into  earth,  never 
to  have  been  absent  from  heaven  :  and  say 
whether  to  leave  the  regions  below  and  ascend 
into  heaven  was  possible  for  Him  to  whcm  it 
was  easy  when  still  on  earth,  ever  to  continue 
in  heaven.  But  what  is  that  which  He  Him- 
self says  :  "  I  ascend  unto  my  Father."  4  Did 
He  imply  that  in  this  ascension  there  would  be 
the  intervention  of  Another's  help,  who  by  the 
very  fact  that  He  said  He  would  ascend,  shows 
the  efficacy  of  His  own  power?  David  also 
says  of  the  Ascension  of  the  Lord  :  "  God  as- 
cended with  a  merry  noise,  the  Lord  with  the 
sound  of  the  trumpet :  "  5  He  clearly  explained 
the  glory  of  Him  who  ascends  by  the  power  of 
the  ascension. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

He  continues  the  same  argument  to  show  that  Christ  had  no 
need  of  another's  glory  as  He  had  a  glory  of  His  own. 

But  to  end  let  us  see  the  addition  with 
which  you  sum  up  your  preceding  blasphe- 
mies. Your  words  are,  "  Who  gave  such 6 
glory  to  Christ  ? "  You  name  glory  in  order  to 
degrade  Him.  For  by  the  assertion  that  the 
Lord  was  endowed  with  glory,  in  saying  that 
He  received  it  you  blasphemously  imply  that 
He  stood  in  need  of  it.  For  your  perverse 
notion  suggests  that  the  generosity  of  the 
giver  shows  the  need  of  the  receiver.  O  mis- 
erable impiety  of  yours !  and  where  is  that 
which  Divinity  itself  once  foretold  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  ascending  into  heaven?  Saying: 
"  Lift  up  your  heads,  and  the  King  of  glory 


3  S.  John  iii.  13. 

4  S.  John  xx.  17. 


5  Ps.  xlvi.  (xlvii.)6. 

6  Tantam  Petschenig.     Tamen  Gazseus. 


BOOK  VII. 


617 


shall  come  in."  *  And  when  He  (after  the 
fashion  of  Divine  utterances)  had  made  an- 
swer to  Himself  as  if  in  the  character  of  an 
inquirer:  "Who  is  the  King  of  glory?"  at 
once  He  adds  :  "  The  Lord  strong  and  mighty, 
the  Lord  mighty  in  battle  :  "  showing  under 
the  figure  of  a  battle  fought,  the  victory  of  the 
Lord  in  His  triumph.  Then  when,  to  com- 
plete the  exposition  of  it,  He  had  repeated  the 
words  of  the  utterance  quoted  above,  He 
showed  by  the  following  conclusion  the  ma- 
jesty of  the  Lord  as  He  entered  heaven,  saying 
"  The  Lord  of  hosts,  He  is  the  King  of  glory." 
On  purpose  that  the  fact  of  His  taking  a  body 
might  not  interfere  with  the  glory  of  His 
mighty  Divinity,  He  taught  that  the  same 
Person  was  Lord  of  hosts  and  King  of  hea- 
venly glory,  whom  He  had  previously  pro- 
claimed Victor  in  the  battle  below.  Go  now  2 
and  say  that  the  glory  was  given  to  the  Lord, 
when  both  prophecy  has  said  that  He  was  the 
King  of  glory,  and  He  Himself  also  has  testi- 
fied of  Himself  as  follows  :  "  When  the  Son 
of  man  shall  come  in  His  glory."3  Refute 
it,  if  you  can,  and  contradict  this ;  viz.,  that 
whereas  He  testifies  that  He  has  glory  of  His 
own,  you  say  that  He  has  received  Another's. 
Although  we  maintain  that  He  has  His  own 
glory,  in  such  a  way  that  we  do  not  deny  that 
His  very  property  of  glory  is  common  to  Him 
with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost.  For 
whatever  God  possesses  belongs  to  the  God- 
head :  and  the  kingdom  of  glory  belongs  to 
the  Son  of  God  in  such  a  way  that  it  is  not 
kept  back  from  belonging  to  the  entire  God- 
head. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

He  supports   this  doctrine  by   the  authority   of  the  blessed 
Hilary. 

But  it  is  quite  time  to  finish  the  book,  aye 
and  the  whole  work,  if  I  may  however  add  the 
sayings  of  a  few  saintly  men  and  illustrious 
priests,  to  support  by  the  faith  of  the  present 
day  what  we  have  already  proved  by  the  au- 
thority of  holy  Scripture.  Hilary,  a  man  en- 
dowed with  all  virtues  and  graces,  and  famous 
for  his  life  as  well  as  for  his  eloquence,  who 
also,  as  a  teacher  of  the  churches  and  a  priest, 
advanced  not  only  by  his  own  merits  but  also 
by  the  progress  of  others,  and  remained  so 
steadfast  during  the  storms  of  persecution  that 
through  the  fortitude  of  his  unconquered  faith 

1  Ps.  xxiii.  (xxiv.)  7. 

2  I  nunc  Petschenig.  The  text  is  however  doubtful.  One  MS. 
reading  In  /tunc,  and  another  jam  nunc. 

3  S.  Matt.  xxv.  31. 


he  attained  the  dignity  of  being  a  Confessor,4 
—  he  testifies  in  the  First  book  on  the  faith 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  Very  God  of  Very 
God,  was  both  begotten  before  the  world,  and 
afterwards  born  as  man.  Again  in  the  Second 
book  :  "  One  only  Begotten  God  grew  in  the 
womb  of  the  holy  Virgin  into  the  form  of  a 
human  body ;  He  who  contains  all  things,  and 
in  whose  power  all  things  are,  is  brought  forth 
according  to  the  law  of  human  birth."  Again 
in  the  same  book :  "  An  angel  is  witness  that 
He  who  is  born  is  God  with  us."  Again  in 
the  Tenth  book  :  "  We  have  taught  the  mystery 
of  God  born  as  man  by  the  birth  from  the  Vir- 
gin." Again  in  the  same  book:  "For  when 
God  was  born  as  man,  He  was  not  born  on 
purpose  not  to  remain  God."  5  Again  in  the 
same  writer's  preface  to  his  exposition  of  the 
gospel  according  to  Matthew  :  6  "  For  to  begin 
with  it  was  needful  for  us  that  for  our  sakes 
the  only  Begotten  God  should  be  known  to  be 
born  as  man."  Again  in  what  follows:  "that 
besides  being  God,  He  should  be  born  as  man, 
which  He  was  not  yet."  Again  in  the  same 
place  :  "  Then  this  third  matter  was  fitting  : 
that  as  God  was  born  as  man  in  the  world  " 
etc. :  Here  are  a  few  passages  out  of  any 
number.  But  still  you  see  even  from  these 
which  we  have  quoted,  how  clearly  and  plainly 
he  asserts  that  God  was  born  of  Mary.  And 
where  then  is  this  saying  of  yours :  "  The 
creature  could  not  bring  forth  the  Creator : 
and  that  which  is  born  of  the  flesh,  is  flesh." 
It  would  take  too  long  to  quote  passages  bear- 
ing on  this  point  from  each  separate  writer.  I 
must  try  to  enumerate  them  rather  than  to  ex- 
plain them  :  for  they  will  sufficiently  explain 
themselves. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

He  shows  that  Ambrose  agrees  with  S.  Hilary. 

Ambrose,  that  illustrious  priest  of  God,  who 
never  leaving  the  Lord's  hand,  ever  shone  like 
a  jewel  upon  the  finger  of  God,  thus  speaks  in 
his  book  to  the  Virgins  :  "  My  brother  is  white 
and  ruddy. 7  White  because  He  is  the  glory 
of  the  Father :  ruddy  because  He  was  born  of 
the  Virgin.  But  remember  that  in  Him  the 
tokens  of  Divinity  are  of  longer  standing  than 
the  mysteries  of  the  body.     For  He  did  not 


4  S.  Hilary  of  Poictiers  (ob.  a.d.  368).  The  reference  is  of 
course  to  his  banishment  to  Phrygia  by  the  Emperor  Constantius  in 
356,  because  of  his  resolute  defence  of  the  Nicene  faith  against 
Arianism. 

5  De  Trinitate  II.  xxv.,  xxvii. ;  X.  vii. 

•  This  Preface  to  Hilary's  work  on  S.  Matthew  is  now  lost, 
though  the  commentary  itself  still  exists.  See  Opera  S.  Hilarii  Pic- 
tav  :  (Verona,  1730).     Vol.  i.  658. 

1  Cf.  Cant.  v.  10  (LXX.). 


6i8 


THE   SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


begin  to  exist  from  the  Virgin,  but  He  who 
was  already  in  existence,  came  into  the  Vir- 
gin." x  Again  on  Christmas  Day:  "See  the 
miracle  of  the  mother  of  the  Lord  :  A  Virgin 
conceived,  a  Virgin  brought  forth.  She  was  a 
Virgin  when  she  conceived,  a  Virgin  when  with 
child,  a  Virgin  after  the  birth.  As  is  said  in 
Ezekiel :  "  And  the  gate  was  shut  and  not 
opened,  because  the  Lord  passed  through  it."  2 
A  splendid  Virginity,  and  Avondrous  fruitful- 
ness !  The  Lord  of  the  world  is  born :  and 
there  are  no  cries  from  her  who  brought  Him 
forth.  The  womb  is  left  empty,  and  a  true 
child  is  born,  and  yet  the  Virginity  is  not  de- 
stroyed. It  was  right  that  when  God  was  born 
the  power  of  chastity  should  become  greater, 
and  that  her  purity  should  not  be  violated  by 
the  going  forth  of  Him  who  had  come  to  heal 
what  was  corrupt."  3  Again  in  his  exposition 
of  the  gospel  according  to  Luke  he  says  that 
"  one  was  especially  chosen,  to  bring  forth 
God,  who  was  espoused  to  an  husband."  4  He 
certainly  declares  that  God  was  born  of  the 
Virgin.  He  calls  Mary  the  mother  of  God. 
And  where  is  that  awful  and  execrable  utter- 
ance of  yours  asking  how  can  she  be  the 
mother  of  one  of  a  different  nature  from  her 
own.  But  if  she  is  called  mother  by  them,  it 
is  the  human  nature  which  was  born  not  the 
Godhead.  So,  that  illustrious  teacher  of  the 
faith  says  both  that  she  who  bare  Him  was 
human,  and  that  He  who  was  born  is  God  : 
and  yet  that  this  is  no  reason  for  unbelief,  but 
only  a  miracle  of  faith. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

He  adds  to  the  foregoing  the  testimony  of  S.  Jerome. 

Jerome,  the  Teacher  of  the  Catholics,  whose 
writings  shine  like  divine  lamps  throughout 
the  whole  world,  says  in  his  book  to  Eusto- 
chium :  "  The  Son  of  God  for  our  salvation 
was  made  the  Son  of  man.  He  waits  ten 
months  in  the  womb  to  be  born :  and  He, 
in  whose  hand  the  world  is  held,  is  contained 
in  a  narrow  manger." 5  Again  in  his  com- 
mentary on  Isaiah  :  "  For  the  Lord  of  hosts, 
who  is  the  King  of  glory,  Himself  descended 
into  the  Virgin's  womb,  and  entered  in  and 
went  forth  from  the  East  Gate  which  is  ever 
shut."6  Of  whom  Gabriel  says  to  the  Virgin: 
"  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon  thee,  and 
the  power  of  the  Most  High  shall  overshadow 


1  S.  Ambrose.     De  Virg.  Lib.  i.  xlvi.         2  Ezek.  xliv.  2. 

3  These  words  are  not  found  in  any  extant  writing  of  S.  Ambrose, 
but  something  very  like  them  occurs  in  S.  Augustine's  Sixth  Sermon 
ia  Natali  Domini. 

4  In  Lucam  II.  i.  8  Ep.  xxii.  Ad  Eustochium. 
0  Cf.  Ezek.  xliv.  2. 


thee.  Wherefore  that  holy  thing  which  shall  be 
born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  God." 
And  in  Proverbs :  "  Wisdom  hath  builded 
herself  an  house." 7  Compare  this  if  you 
please  with  your  doctrine  or  rather  your  blas- 
phemy, in  which  you  assert  that  God  is  the 
Creator  of  the  months,  and  was  not  an  off- 
spring of  months.  For  lo,  Jerome,  a  man  of 
the  greatest  knowledge  and  also  of  the  most 
pure  and  approved  doctrine  testifies  almost  in 
the  very  words  in  which  you  deny  that  the 
Son  of  God  was  an  offspring  of  months,  that 
He  was  an  offspring  of  months.  For  he  says 
that  He  waits  ten  months  in  the  womb  to  be 
born.  But  perhaps  the  authority  of  this  man 
seems  a  mere  nothing  to  you.  You  may  take 
it  that  every  one  says  the  same  and  in  the 
same  words,  for  whoever  does  not  deny  that 
the  Son  of  God  is  the  offspring  of  the  Virgin, 
admits  that  He  is  the  offspring  of  months. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

To  the  foregoing  he  adds  Rufinus  and  the  blessed  Augustine. 

Rufinus  also,  a  Christian  philosopher,  with 
no  mean  place  among  Ecclesiastical  Doctors 
testifies  as  follows  of  the  Lord's  Nativity  in 
his  Exposition  of  the  Creed.  "  For  the  Son 
of  God,"  he  says,  "  is  born  of  a  Virgin,  not 
chiefly  allied  to  the  flesh  alone,  but  generated 
in  the  soul  which  is  the  medium  between  the 
flesh  and  God."  8  Does  he  witness  obscurely 
that  God  was  born  of  man  ?  Augustine  the 
priest9  of  Hippo  Regiensis  says:  "That  men 
might  be  born  of  God,  God  was  first  born  of 
them  :  for  Christ  is  God.  And  Christ  when 
born  of  men  only  required  a  mother  on  earth, 
because  He  always  had  a  Father  in  heaven, 
being  born  of  God  through  whom  we  are 
made,  and  also  born  of  a  woman,  through 
whom  we  might  be  re-created."  10  Again,  in 
this  place :  "  And  the  Word  was  made  flesh 
and  dwelt  among  us.  Why  then  need  you 
wonder  that  men  are  born  of  God  ?  Notice 
how  God  Himself  was  born  of  men."  Again 
in  his  Epistle  to  Volusianus  :  "  But  Moses 
himself  and  the  rest  of  the  prophets  most 
truly  prophesied  of  Christ  the  Lord,  and  gave 
Him  great  glory  :  they  declared  that  He  would 
come  not  as  one  like  themselves,  nor  merely 
greater  in  the  same  sort  of  power  of  working 
miracles,  but  clearly  as  the  Lord  God  of  all, 
and  as  made  man  for  men.  Who  therefore 
Himself  also  willed  to  do  such  things  as  they 


7  Book  III.  c.  vii.  8  Rufinus  in  Symb.  c.  xiii. 

9  There  is  no  authority  for  the  reading  of  Cuyck  and  Gazjeus 
"Magnus  Sacerdos."  On  the  coldness  with  which  Augustine  is 
here  spoken  of  see  the  Introduction,  p.  191.     Note. 

10  August.  Tract.  II.  in  Johan.  XV. 


BOOK   VII. 


619 


did  to  prevent  the  absurdity  of  His  not  doing 
Himself  those  things  which  He  did  through 
them.  But  still  it  was  right  also  for  Him  to  do 
something  special ;  viz.,  to  be  born  of  a  Virgin, 
to  rise  from  the  dead,  to  ascend  into  heaven. 
And  if  anyone  thinks  that  this  is  too  little  for 
God,  I  know  not  what  more  he  can  look  for.1 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

As  he  is  going  to  produce  the  testimony  of  Greek  or  Eastern 
Bishops,  he  brings  forward  in  the  first  place  S.  Gregory 
Nazianzen. 

Bur  perhaps  because  those  whom  we  have 
enumerated  came  from  different  parts  of  the 
world,  their  authority  may  seem  to  you  less 
valuable.  An  absurd  thing,  indeed,  because 
faith  is  not  interfered  with  by  place,  and  we 
have  to  consider  what  a  man  is,  not  where: 
especially  since  religion  unites  all  together, 
and  those  who  are  in  the  one  faith  may  be 
also  known  to  be  in  the  one  body.  But  still 
we  will  bring  forward  for  you  some,  whom  you 
cannot  despise,  even  from  the  East.  Gregory, 
that  most  grand  light  of  knowledge  and  doc- 
trine, who  though  he  has  been  for  some  time 
dead,  yet  still  lives  in  authority  and  faith,  and 
though  he  has  been  for  some  time  removed  in 
the  body  from  the  Churches,  yet  has  not  for- 
saken them  in  word  and  authority.  "  When 
then,"  he  says,  "  God  had  come  forth  from  the 
Virgin,  in  that  human  nature  which  He  had 
taken,  as  He  existed  in  one  out  of  two  which 
are  the  opposite  of  each  other  ;  viz.,  flesh  and 
spirit,  the  one  is  taken  into  God,  the  other 
exalts  into  the  grace  of  Deity.2  O  new  and 
unheard  of  intermingling !  O  marvellous  and 
exquisite  union  !  He  who  was,  came  to  be, 
and  the  Creator  is  created :  and  He  who  is 
infinite  is  embraced  by  the  soul  which  is  the 
medium  between  God  and  the  flesh  :  and  He 
who  makes  all  rich,  is  made  poor."  Again  he 
says  of  the  Epiphany  :  "  But  what  happens  ? 
What  is  done  concerning  us  and  for  us  ?  There 
is  brought  about  some  new  and  unheard  of 
change  of  natures  and  God  is  made  man." 
Again  in  this  passage  : 3  "  The  Son  of  God 
began  to  be  also  the  Son  of  man,  not  being 
changed    from  what    He  was,  for  He  is    un- 


1  Ep.  cxxxvii.  c.  4. 

-  Aliud  in  Deum  adsumitur,  aliud  in  Deitatis  gratiam  pr&stat. 
So  Petschenig  edits.  The  text  of  Gazaeus  lias  aliud  Deitatis  gratia 
prcestat. 

3  Greg.  Nazianz.  Oratio  xxxviii.  The  Greek  of  the  passage 
which  Cassian  translates  is  as  follows  :  jrpoeAOdu'  6s  ©ebs  p.eT<i  t?(s 
7rpocrArji//eu>?  kv  etc  &vo  tuiv  evavTl'cov,  o~apKO<;  Kai  Trvev[j.aTos  '  &v  70 
ixev  e0ea)O"e  to  6e  e0eu>#7i,  ii>  tt)s  Kaiv-qq  p.i£etos,  S)  ttj?  Trapa&6£ov 
Kpao*eu>5,  6  oiv  yiveTai  Kai  6  aKTt(TTO?  KTi^eTai  Kai  6  a^uJpTjro? 
^wpetrai  Std  p-ecrrj?  ipvxys  1'oepds  aecriTeuoucrTi?  Ocottjtl  Kai  crapKos 
Tra^vTrjTi,  Kai  6  tt\ovt(.£uji>  TrTco^eyet.  Oratio  xxxix.  Tt  ytVerai  Kai 
ri  to  (J-eya.  Trepi  i]p.ds  p.vaTrjpioi'  ;  KaivOTO^ovvrai  (/)u<reis  Kai  ®ebs 
ai'OptoTTOs  yiVerat  .  .  .  Kai  6  nib?  toO  ©eou  6€\eTat  Kai  vtb? 
ai>9pujTTov  yei'eo~6ai  re  Kai  K\r\Qr)vai,  ov\  b  -qv  ueTa$aAa>i',  arpzivTovv 
yap,  dAA  'o  ovk  r]i'  nposAafiwv,  <pt,Ady0pa>7Tos  yap,  iva.  \oipn]0fi  o 
d,\wpi?TO?. 


changeable,  but  taking  to  Himself  what  He 
was  not :  for  He  is  pitiful  so  that  He,  who 
could  not  be  embraced,  can  now  be  embraced." 
You  see  how  grandly  and  nobly  he  asserts  the 
majesty  of  His  Godhead  so  that  He  may  bring 
in  the  condescension  of  the  Incarnation  :  for 
that  admirable  teacher  of  the  faith  knew  well 
that  of  all  the  blessings  which  God  granted  to 
us  at  His  coming  into  the  world  this  was  the 
chief,  without  diminishing  in  any  way  His 
glory.  For  whatever  God  gave  to  man,  ought 
to  increase  the  love  of  Him  in  us,  and  not  to 
lessen  the  honour  which  we  give  to  Him. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

In  the  next  place  he  puts  the  authority  of  S.  Athanasius. 

Athanasius  also,  priest  of  the  city  of  Alex- 
andria, a  splendid  instance  of  constancy  and 
virtue,  whom  the  storm  of  heretical  persecu- 
tion tested  without  crushing  him  :  whose  life 
was  always  like  a  clear  glass,  and  who  had 
almost  obtained  the  reward  of  martyrdom  be- 
fore attaining  the  dignity  of  confessorship  : 
Let  us  see  what  was  his  view  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  and  the  mother  of  the  Lord. 
"  This  then,"  he  says,  "  is  the  mind  and  stamp 
of  Holy  Scripture,  as  we  have  often  said;  viz., 
that  in  one  and  the  same  Saviour  two  things 
have  to  be  understood:  (i)  that  He  was  ever 
God,  and  is  Son,  Word,  and  Light,  and  Wis- 
dom of  the  Father,  and  (2)  that  afterwards 
for  our  sakes  He  took  flesh  of  the  Virgin 
Mary  the  Theotocos,  and  was  made  man."4 
Again  after  some  other  matter  :  "  Many  then 
were  saints  and  clean  from  sin:  Jeremiah  also 
was  sanctified  from  the  womb,  and  John,  while 
still  in  the  womb  leapt  for  joy  at  the  voice  of 
Mary  the  Theotocos.''' 5  He  certainly  says 
that  God,  the  Son  of  God,  who  (to  declare 
the  faith  of  all  in  his  words)  is  "  the  Word, 
and  Light  and  Wisdom  of  the  Father,"  took 
flesh  for  our  sakes ;  and  therefore  he  calls  the 
Virgin  Mary  Theotocos,  because  she  was  the 
Mother  of  God. 


CFIAPTER   XXX. 

He  adds  also  S.  John  Chrysostom. 

As    for  John  the  glory  of    the   Episcopate 
of  Constantinople,   whose    holy  life    obtained 

4  See  the  orations  against  the  Arians  IV.  The  Greek  is  as  follows  : 
2ko7T05  toIvvv  oSto?  Kai  xapaKTrjp  T7J<r  ypa$)js,  10;  TroAAaKi;  eiTrop.et', 
QiTrk-qv  eivaL  Tr]V  7repi  tou  craJTTypos  aTTayyeAiai'  eV  avrrj,  OTt  re  aet 
Oeb?  r}V  Kai  eo"Ttv  6  V£os,  Abyos  ujv  Kai  a7Tauya<7/xa  koli  o~0(pLc  tov 
7raTpo?,  Kai  on  vcrrepov  Si'  rjp.a5  aapKa  \afiiuv  eK  irapdivov  tt)s  deo- 
tokov  Maptd?  av9p(x)TT0<;  yeyoyej*. 

5  Ibid.  7roAAoi  youy  ayioi  yeybpaffi  Kai  Ka9apo\  7rdo"r)^  auapTtas  * 
'Iepepia?  6e  Kai  «  KotAia?  rjyidcrSr)  Kai  'luiavvqs  en  Kiio^opovueyos 
ea'KipTTjo'ei'  eV  ayaAAtdcret  eVi  tt;  (faoji'fj  tyjs  OeoTOKOu  Mapias. 


620 


THE    SEVEN    BOOKS    OF   JOHN    CASSIAN. 


the  reward  of  martyrdom  without  any  show 
of  Gentile  persecution,  hear  what  he  thought 
and  taught  on  the  Incarnation  of  the  Son  of 
God:  "And  Him,"  he  says,  "whom  if  He  had 
come  in  unveiled  Deity  neither  the  heaven  nor 
the  earth  nor  the  sea  nor  any  other  creature 
could  have  contained,  the  pure  womb  of  a  Vir- 
gin bore." *  This  man's  faith  and  doctrine 
then,  even  if  you  ignore  that  of  others,  you 
ought  to  follow  and  hold,  as  out  of  love  and  af- 
fection for  him  the  pious  people  chose  you  as 
their  Bishop.  For  when  it  took  you  for  its 
priest  from  the  Church  of  Antioch,  from  which 
it  had  formerly  chosen  him,  it  believed  that  it 
would  receive  in  you  all  that  it  had  lost  in 
him.2  Did  not,  I  ask  you,  all  these  almost 
with  prophetic  spirit  say  all  these  things  in 
order  to  confound  your  blasphemies.  For  you 
declare  that  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Christ  is 
not  God :  they  declare  that  Christ  the  Lord 
is  Very  God.  You  blasphemously  assert  that 
Mary  is  Christotocos  not  Theotocos  :  they  do 
not  deny  that  she  is  Christotocos,  while  they 
acknowledge  her  as  Theotocos.  Not  merely 
the  substance  but  the  words  also  are  opposed 
to  your  blasphemies :  that  we  may  clearly  see 
that  an  impregnable  bulwark  was  formerly 
prepared  by  God  against  your  blasphemies, 
to  break  on  the  wall  of  truth  ready  prepared, 
the  force  of  the  heretical  attack  which  was  at 
some  time  or  other  to  come.  And  you,  O  you 
most  wicked  and  shameless  contaminator  of 
an  illustrious  city,  you  disastrous  and  deadly 
plague  of  a  Catholic  and  holy  people,  do  you 
dare  to  stand  and  teach  in  the  Church  of  God, 
and  with  your  wild  and  blasphemous  words 
slander  the  priests  of  an  ever  unbroken  faith 
and  Catholic  confession,  and  say  that  the  peo- 
ple of  the  city  of  Constantinople  are  in  error 
through  the  fault  of  their  earlier  teachers  ? 
Are  you  then  the  corrector  of  former  Bishops, 
the  accuser  of  ancient  priests,  are  you  better 
than  Gregory,  more  approved  than  Nectarius, 
greater  than  John,3  and  all  the  other  Bishops 
of  Eastern  cities  who,  though  not  of  the  same 
renown  as  those  whom  I  have  enumerated, 
were  yet  of  the  same  faith  ?  which,  as  far  as 
the  matter  in  hand  is  concerned,  is  enough  : 


1  The  passage  has  not  heen  identified  with  any  now  extant  in  the 
writings  of  S.  Chrysostom. 

2  S.  Chrysostom  had  been  taken  from  Antioch  for  the  Bishopric 
of  Constantinople  :  and  after  the  death  of  Sisinnius  in  426,  as  there 
was  so  much  rivalry  and  party  spirit  displayed  at  Constantinople, 
the  Emperor  determined  that  none  of  that  Church  should  fill  the 
vacant  see,  but  sent  for  Nestorius  from  Antioch,  where  he  had  al- 
ready gained  a  great  reputation  for  eloquence  (cf.  Socrates  H.  E. 
VII.  xxix.).  It  is  to  the  fact  that  both  S.  Chrysostom  and  Nestorius 
came  from  the  same  city  that  Cassian  alludes  in  the  text. 

3  The  reference  is  to  Gregory  Nazianzen,  Bishop  of  Constanti- 
nople from  379  to  381  when  he  retired  in  the  interests  of  peace; 
to  Nectarius  who  was  chosen  to  succeed  him,  and  occupied  the  post 
from  3S1  to  397;  and  to  his  successor,  S.  John  Chrysostom,  397  to 
404. 


for  when  it  is  a  question  of  the  faith,  all  are  as 
good  as  the  best  in  so  far  as  they  agree  with 
the  best. 

CHAPTER   XXXI. 

He  bemoans  the  unhappy  lot  of  Constantinople  owing  to  the 
misfortune  which  has  overtaken  it  from  ^that  heretic  ;  and  at 
the  same  time  he  urges  the  citizens  to  stand  fast  in  the 
ancient  Catholic  and  ancestral  faith. 

Wherefore  I  also,  humble  and  insignificant 
as  I  am  in  name  as  in  desert,  and  although  I 
cannot  claim  a  place  as  Teacher  among  those 
illustrious  Bishops  of  Constantinople,  yet  ven- 
ture to  claim  the  zeal  and  enthusiasm  of  a 
disciple.  For  I  was  admitted  into  the  sacred 
ministry  by  the  Bishop  John,  of  blessed  me- 
mory, and  offered  to  God,  and  even  though  I  am 
absent  in  body  yet  I  am  still  there  in  heart : 
and  though  by  actual  presence  I  no  longer  mix 
with  that  most  dear  and  honourable  people  of 
God,  yet  I  am  still  joined  to  them  in  spirit. 
And  hence  it  comes  that  condoling  and  sym- 
pathizing with  them,  I  broke  out  just  now  into 
the  utterance  of  our  common  grief  and  sorrow, 
and  in  my  weakness  cried  out  (which  was  all 
that  I  could  do)  by  means  of  the  dolorous 
lamentation  of  my  works,  as  if  for  my  own 
limbs  and  members  :  for  if  as  the  Apostle 
says,  when  the  smaller  part  of  the  body  is 
grieved,  the  greater  part  grieves  and  sympa- 
thizes with  it,4  how  much  more  should  the 
smaller  part  sympathize  when  the  greater  part 
is  grieved?  It  is  indeed  utterly  inhuman  for 
the  smaller  parts  not  to  feel  the  sufferings  of 
the  greater  in  one  and  the  same  body,  if  the 
greater  feel  those  of  the  smaller.  Wherefore 
I  pray  and  beseech  you,  you  who  live  within 
the  circuit  of  Constantinople,  and  who  are 
my  fellow-citizens  through  the  love  of  my 
country,  and  my  brothers  through  the  unity  of 
the  faith  ;  separate  yourselves  from  that  raven- 
ing wolf  who  (as  it  is  written)  devours  the 
people  of  God,  as  if  they  were  bread.5  Touch 
not,  taste  not  anything  of  his,  for  all  those  things 
lead  to  death.  Come  out  from  the  midst  of  him 
and  be  ye  separate  and  touch  not  the  unclean 
thing.  Remember  your  ancient  teachers,  and 
your  priests  ;  Gregory  whose  fame  was  spread 
through  the  world,  Nectarius  renowned  for 
holiness,  John  a  marvel  of  faith  and  purity : 
John,  I  say ;  that  John  who  like  John  the 
Evangelist  was  indeed  a  disciple  of  Jesus  and 
an  Apostle;  and  so  to  speak  ever  reclined  on 
the  breast  and  heart  of  the  Lord.  Remember 
him,  I  say.  Follow  him.  Think  of  his  purity, 
his  faith,  his  doctrine,  and  holiness.      Remem- 


*  Cf.  1  Cor.  xii.  26. 

6  Ps.  xiii.  (xiv.)  4;  Col.  ii.  21,  23;  2  Cor.  vi.  17. 


BOOK   VII. 


621 


ber  him  ever  as  your  teacher  and  nurse,  in 
whose  bosom  and  embraces  you  as  it  were 
grew  up.  Who  was  the  teacher  in  common 
both  of  you  and  of  me :  whose  disciples  and 
pupils  we  are.  Read  his  writings.  Hold  fast 
his  instruction.  Embrace  his  faith  and  merits. 
For  though  to  attain  this  is  a  hard  and  mag- 
nificent thing :  yet  even  to  follow  is  beautiful 
and  sublime.  For  in  the  highest  matters,  not 
merely  the  attainment,  but  even  the  attempt 
to  copy  is  worthy  of  praise.  For  scarcely  any- 
one entirely  misses  all  parts  in  that  to  which 
he  is  trying  to  climb  and  reach.  He  then 
should  ever  be  in  your  minds  and  almost  in 
your  sight :  he  should  live  in  your  hearts  and 
in  your  thoughts.  He  would  himself  commend 
to  you  this  that  I  have  written,  for  it  was  he 
who  taught  me  what  I  have  written  :  and  so  do 
not  think  of  this  as  mine,  so  much  as  his  :  for 
the  stream  comes  from  the  spring,  and  what- 
ever you  think  belongs  to  the  disciple,  ought 
all  to  be  referred  to  the  honour  of  the  master. 
But,  beyond  and  above  all    I  pray  with  all  my 


heart  and  voice,  to  Thee,  O  God  the  Father  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  Thou  wouldest 
fill  with  the  gift  of  Thy  love  whatever  we  have 
written  by  Thy  bounteous  grace.  And  be- 
cause, as  the  Lord  our  God  Thine  Only  Begot- 
ten Son  Himself  taught  us,  Thou  hast  so  loved 
this  world  as  to  send  Thine  Only  Begotten  Son 
to  save  the  world,  grant  to  Thy  people  whom 
Thou  hast  redeemed  that  in  the  Incarnation  of 
Thine  Only  Begotten  Son  they  may  perceive 
both  Thy  gift  and  His  love  :  and  that  all  may 
understand  the  truth  that  for  us  Thine  Only 
Begotten,  our  Lord  God,  was  born  and  suffered 
and  rose  again,  and  may  so  love  it  that  the 
condescension  of  His  glory  may  increase  our 
love  :  and  let  not  His  Humility  lead  to  a  dimi- 
nution of  His  honour  in  the  hearts  of  all  men, 
but  let  it  ever  produce  an  increase  of  love  :  and 
may  we  all  rightly  and  wisely  comprehend  the 
blessings  of  His  Sacred  Compassion,  so  as  to 
see  that  we  owe  the  more  to  God,  in  propor- 
tion as  for  our  sakes  God  humbled  Himself 
vet  lower. 


INDICES. 


SULPITIUS   SEVERUS. 


INDEX  OF  SUBIECTS. 


Abraham,  71. 

Ambrose,  St.,  on  baptism,  5. 

Angels,  71. 

Antichrist,  the  coming  of,  15;  battle 
with  Nero  about  the  rule  of  the 
earth,  45;  the  ten  plagues  at 
his  coming,  112. 

Arianism,  in  Illyria  and  Gaul,  7;  or- 
igin, spread,  definition,  and  his- 
tory, 113;  infiltration  in  the 
catholic  church  after  the  council 
of  Nice,  intrigues,  violence,  114; 
Valens,  the  condemnation  of 
Athanasius,  1 15;  Liberius  and 
Hilarius  exiled,  homo-ousion 
and  homoi-ousion,  Osius  of 
Spain,  the  Gallic  bishops  at 
Ariminum,  116,  the  synod  of 
Seleucia  in  the  East,  117;  vic- 
tory of  the  Arians,  118;  final 
overthrow  of  Arianism,  1 19. 

Athanasius,  114. 

Auxentius,  7. 

Avenger  and  Defensor,  8. 

Avitianus,  47,  49. 

Baptism,  in  its  relation  to  regenera- 
tion, 5;  dying  without  baptism,  8. 

Bishops,  appointment  of,  8;  "  sum- 
mus  sacerdos,"  17;  St.  Martin's 
episcopal  throne,  38;  his  mir- 
aculous power  greater  while  a 
monk  than  when  a  bishop,  39. 

Christ,  the  birth,  life,  and  crucifixion 

of,  1 10. 
Chronology,  56,  71,  72,  77,  106. 
Clarus,  15,  20. 
Claudia,   the  sister  of   Sulpitius,   55, 

58. 
Creation  of  the  world,  the  number  of 

days   not  given,  but  the  number 

of  years,  71. 
Cross,  The  true,  1 13. 

Daniel,  97. 

David,  87  et  seq. 

Day  of  Judgment  approaching,  The, 

14. 
Demons,  42,  48,  49,  53,  1 10. 
Devil,    The,    and    St.    Martin,    14; 


Clarus,  Anatolius,  and  the 
devil's  garment,  15;  tempts  St. 
Martin,  16. 

Dialogue  I.,  between  Postumianus, 
returning  from  the  East,  Sulpi- 
tius, and  a  Gallic  friend,  con- 
cerning the  virtues  of  the  monks 
of  the  East,  24;  visit  to  Cyrene; 
the  presbyter's  hut,  the  church; 
comparison  between  Cyrene  and 
Gaul;  refusal  of  gold  coins,  ac- 
ceptance of  pieces  of  clothing, 
25;  visit  to  Alexandria,  strife 
between  the  bishops  and  the 
monks  about  the  writings  of 
Origen,  26;  visit  to  Bethlehem; 
Hieronymus;  his  attack  on  the 
Gallic  monks,  27;  visit  to  The- 
bais;  the  monks  of  the  Desert 
and  their  abbot,  28;  comparison 
with  the  monks  of  Gaul,  29;  the 
hermit  and  his  ox,  30;  the  her- 
mit and  the  wolf,  30;  the  an- 
chorite and  the  lioness,  31;  the 
anchorite  and  the  ibex,  32;  the 
recluse  of  Mount  Sinai,  32; 
the  monasteries  along  the  Nile 
and  the  principle  of  monastic 
life;  obedience,  32;  examples  of 
obedience,  32;  recluses  caught 
by  vanity  and  spurious  righteous- 
ness, and  punished  therefor, 
33;  eulogy  of  the  book  of  Sul- 
pitius on  St.  Martin;  eulogy  of 
the  monarchism  of  the  East,  and 
transition  to  the  eulogy  of  St. 
Martin,  34. 

Dialogue  II.,  between  the  same  in- 
terlocutors concerning  the  vir- 
tues of  St.  Martin,  37;  clothing 
the  shivering  man,  37;  restores 
Evanthius  and  the  poisoned  bag, 
38;  is  beaten  by  the  soldiers 
but  stops  their  conveyance,  39; 
preaches  to  the  Carmites  and  re- 
stores the  widow's  dead  son,  40; 
forces  an  entrance  to  Valentin- 
ian,  40;  in  intercourse  with  the 
palace,  41;  the  cow  with  the 
demon   on    its    back,    42;     the 

623 


hunted  hare,  43;  sayings,  43; 
the  soldier  and  his  wife,  43; 
virgins  and  women,  44;  conver- 
sation with  Agnes,  Thecla,  and 
Mary,  45;  synod  of  Memausus; 
Nero  and  Antichrist,  45. 
Dialogue  III.,  continuation  of  Dia- 
logue II.,  46.  A  great  number 
of  people  rush  to  the  place 
but  are  not  admitted,  as  it  is 
not  proper  for  the  merely  cu- 
rious to  mix  with  the  truly  pious, 
46;  St.  Martin  as  a  Western 
compeer  of  the  Eastern  saints, 
46;  the  dumb  girl  of  Carmites, 
46;  blessed  oil,  47;  Avitianus, 
47,  49;  manner  of  exorcising 
demons,  48;  the  village  of  the 
Senones,  49;  the  idol-temple  of 
the  Ambatienses,  49;  various 
miracles,  50;  Priscillian  and 
Ilhacius,  50;  the  ordination  of 
Felix,  52;  the  Egyptian  mer- 
chant, Lycontius,  and  other 
miracles,  52;  "  If  Christ  bore 
with  Judas  why  should  not  I 
bear  with  Brichio?  "  53. 

Esther  and  Judith,  102. 

Felix,  52,  54. 
Fish  at  Easter,  50. 

Gnosticism  appears  in  Spain,  119; 
its  origin  in  the  East,  spread, 
and  invasion  in  the  West,  120. 

Helena,  113. 
Herod,  no. 

Idols  and  idolatry  among  the  Gauls, 

49;   among  the  Hebrews,  84. 
Israel  in  Egypt,  75. 
Ithacius,  50,  120. 

Jerome  in   Bethlehem;    his  attack  on 

the  Gallic  monks,  27. 
Jerusalem,  91;   destruction,  ill;  the 

Jews  forbidden  to  approach  the 

city,   112;    magnificently  rebuilt 

by  the  Christians,  113. 


624 


SULPITIUS    SEVERUS. 


Jews,  The,  slaughtered  at  the  time  of 
Passover  to  expiate  the  crucifix- 
ion of  Christ,  ill. 

Joseph,  75. 

Joshua,  81. 

Judith  and  Esther,  102,  104. 

Julian,  the  Apostate,  4,  6. 

Length  of  Life  among  the  fathers  of 
mankind,  71,  72,  73. 

Letters,  whose  genuineness  is  not 
doubted.  —  I.  To  E  u  s  e  b  i  u  s, 
concerning  some  infirmity  as- 
cribed to  St.  Martin,  and  not 
spoken  of  in  his  life  by  Sul- 
pitius,  18.  —  II.  To  Aurelius, 
concerning  a  vision  of  St.  Mar- 
tin, which  occurred  to  Sulpitius 
at  the  moment  of  the  death  of 
the  former,  19.  —  III.  To  Bas- 
swla,  concerning  the  death  of 
St.  Martin,  21. 

Letters,  whose  genuineness  is  doubt- 
ed.—  I.  To  his  sister  Claudia, 
concerning    the    last    judgment, 

55.  Happy  shall  be  our  depart- 
ure, for  glory  will  be  granted  us 
through  mercy.  But  where  shall 
the  wise  men  of  the  world  be? 

56.  They  will  say:  "We  did 
not  know  Thee,  Lord,"  but 
Noah  will  testify  against  them 
and  Abraham,  56;  and  David 
and  the  Son  of  God,  57;  and 
the  Evangelist  will  say  to  them: 
"Go  you  into  outer  darkness." 
—  II.  To  his  sister  Claudia,  con- 
cerning virginity,  58.  Virginity 
has  both  the  common  and  a 
special  grace.  No  court  of 
heaven  is  closed  against  the  vir- 
gins. Christ  chose  a  virgin  for 
mother,  58.  But  as  honey  is 
preserved  by  the  wax,  so  virgin- 
ity cannot  be  possessed  without 
some    other    necessary  adjuncts, 

59.  Virginity  must  lead  to  con- 
tempt of  the  world,  and  con- 
tempt of  the  world  again  to 
righteousness,  59.  Definition  of 
righteousness,  60,  according  to 
which  the  Christian  must  not 
only  keep  himself  from  wicked- 
ness,  but  also  fulfil  the  duties, 

60.  The  question,  however,  is 
not  about  the  nature  of  the  of- 
fence, but  about  the  transgres- 
sion of  the  commandment,  61. 
While  the  married  woman  pleases 
her  husband,  the  unmarried 
pleases  God,  62;  and  everything 
depends  upon  being  pure  also  in 
spirit,  63.  But  why  did  not  the 
Apostles  enjoin  these  things  on 
virgins?  64.  Because  it  was  un- 
necessary, for  if  you  wish  to  be 
with  Christ,  you  must  live  ac- 
cording to  the  example  of  Christ, 
65.  Rules  for  virgins  and  women 
in  general,  66. —  III.  To  Paul, 
the  bishop,  recommending  a 
rather  mediocre  cook  to  him,  67. 


—  IV.  To  the  same,  compli- 
menting him  upon  his  talent  and 
success  as  an  instructor  and  edu- 
cator, 68.  —V.  To  an  unknown 
person,  concerning  a  youth  who 
had  fallen  into  the  snares  of  the 
theatre  but  escaped,  68.  —  VI. 
To  Salvius,  concerning  some 
rural  and  domestic    affairs,    69. 

—  VII.  To  an  unknown  per- 
son, asking  for  a  letter,  70. 

Manna,  78. 

Martin,  St.,  Birth,  military  service, 
4;  vision  of  Christ,  baptism,  5; 
retires  from  military  service,  con- 
verts a  robber,  6;  meets  the 
devil,  visits  Illyria,  Milan, 
Rome,  joins  Hilarius,  restores  a 
catechumen  to  life,  7;  restores 
one  strangled,  becomes  bishop 
of  Tours,  8;  his  hermit  cell, 
fasts,  camel-hair  clothing,  9; 
demolishes  the  robber's  altar, 
stops  the  peasants  with  the  dead 
body,  9;  escapes  from  a  falling 
pine-tree,  destroys  heathen  altars 
and  temples,  IO;  offers  his  neck 
to  an  assassin,  cures  the  paralytic 
girl  at  Treves,  1 1 ;  casts  out 
several  devils,  performs  various 
miracles,  12;  cures  by  a  letter, 
13;  at  the  banquet  of  Maximus, 
13;  disputes  with  the  devil,  14; 
Clarus,  Anatolius,  and  the  devil's 
garment,  15;  tempted  by  the 
devil,  16;  intercourse  with  Sul- 
pitius, 16;  excellences,  16;  piety, 
17;  death,  19,  21;  virtues,  see 
Dialogue  I.,  II.,  III. 

Martyrs  in  Gaul,  112. 

Maximus,  the  emperor,  invites  St. 
Martin  to  a  banquet,  13;  the 
queen  waits  upon  him,  46;  Pris- 
cillian  and  Ithacius,  50. 

Memausus,  Synod  of,  45. 

Mercury  annoying  St.  Martin,  Jupiter 
stupid  and  doltish,  45;  acknow- 
ledging themselves  demons,  49. 

Miracles,  views  of,  by  Sulpitius  Seve- 
rus,  Dr.  Arnold  of  Rugby,  Arch- 
deacon Farrar,  4;  performed  by 
St.  Martin,  7,  8,  11,  12,  13; 
views  of  the  miracles  of  St.  Mar- 
tin, by  Milner  and  Cardinal 
Newman,  17;  more  miracles  by 
St.  Martin,  38,  39;  testimonies 
to  miracles,  48. 

Mistakes  in  Sulpitius's  Sacred  His- 
tory, 71,  72,   75,  79,  85,  87,  94, 

95.  "5- 

Monasteries  along  the  Nile,  32. 
Moses,  76. 

Nero  and  Antichrist,  45,  no;  his 
death,  in. 

Obedience,  the  principle  of  monastic 
life,  32. 

Origen.  Forgery  in  his  writings;  re- 
lation to  Hieronymus,  26;  mar- 
tyrdom, 112. 


Paradise  situated  outside  our  world 
altogether,  71. 

Persecutions  of  the  Christians,  no, 
112;    end  of  persecutions,  112. 

Popes,  "  papa,"  17. 

Prayer  as  the  foundation  of  miracu- 
lous power,  19,  40,  46,  49. 

Priscillian,  50,  120. 

Quotations  from  the  Bible.  5,  Matt. 
xxv.  40;  7,  Ps.  cxviii.  6;  Luke 
viii.  46;  8,  Ps.  viii.  3;  9,  Matt, 
iii.  4;  Matt.  xi.  8;  18,  Matt, 
xxvii.  42;  Acts  xxviii.  4;  Rom. 
xi.  13;  2  Cor.  xi.  25;  55,  Luke 
iv.  62;  Ezek.  xviii.  24;  56,  Ex. 
xx.  14;  Lev.  xix.  18;  Deut.  vi. 
13;  Ex.  xx.  3;  Ps.  cxi.  2;  Fs. 
cxlix.  5;  57,  cxii.  10;  Isa.  v. 
8;  Matt.  xxii.  13;  Ps.  xxxiv. 
13;  58,  Rom.  xii.  1;  2  Cor. 
vii.  17;  Isa.  lvi.  5;  Matt.  xix. 
12;  Rev.  xiv.  5;  59,  2  Cor.  vii. 
25;  60,  Ps.  xxxiv.  14;  Rom. 
xii.  15;  Matt.  vii.  12;  61,  Matt, 
xxv.  41;  James  ii.  10;  62,  1 
Cor.  vii.  34;  Phil.  iv.  8;  Eccl. 
xxi.  24;  63,  Prov.  iii.  3;  Wisd. 
i.  12;  Ps.  xxiv.  3;  1  Pet.  i.  22; 
Rev.  xiv.  4;  1  John  iii.  24;  2 
Pet.  ii.  8;  64,  Rev.  xiv.  5;  Eph. 
v.  27;  1  Pet.  iii.  1;  65,  Ps.  xcvii. 
10;   John  v.  24. 

Revelation,  The,  foolishly  or  impi- 
ously not  received  by  many,  112. 

Samson,  84. 

Samuel,  86. 

Saul,  86. 

Sayings  of  St.  Martin,  43. 

"  Secretarium,"  19. 

Simon  Mngus,  1 10. 

Slavery,  78. 

Solomon,  90. 

Sulpitius  Severus.  Life,  1 ;  writings, 
2;  editions  and  translations,  1; 
estimates  by  Paulinus  of  Nola, 
Gennadius,  p.p.  Scaliger,  Vos- 
sius,  Archdeacon  Farrar,  2; 
reasons  for  writing  the  life  of  St. 
Martin,  3;  intercourse  with  St. 
Martin,  16;  defence  of  St.  Mar- 
tin, 18;  Vision  of  St.  Martin, 
19;  see  Dialogues  and  Letters. 

"  Summus  Sacerdos,"  17,  58. 

Ten  Tribes,  The,  102. 

Texts,  corrupted  or  uncertain,  4,  8, 
10,  14,  21,  22,  23,  38,  £i,  43, 
46,  47,  59,  61,  62,  65,  67,  76, 
77,  80,  86,  108,  114. 

Thebais,  The  monks  of,  28;  the  boy 
and  the  asp,  29;  the  hermit  and 
his  ox,  30;  the  hermit  and  the 
wolf,  30;  the  anchorite  and  the 
lioness,  31;  the  anchorite  and 
the  ibex,  32. 

Valentinian,  the  emperor,  40. 
Virgins,  44,  58  sqq. 

Women,  40,  41,  44,  62,  66. 


INDEX    OF   TEXTS. 


625 


INDEX   OF  TEXTS. 


PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

Gen.  iv.  17                         71 

Prov.  iv.  26      .     .     .       63 

St.  Matt.  xi.  8      . 

9 

I  Cor.  vii.  34  .                   62 

viii.  20 

72 

xi.  20  . 

63 

xiii.  43      .     . 

62 

xii.  9    . 

II 

xviii.  1 

56 

xvii.  3  . 

63 

xix.  12 

58 

2  Cor.  xi.  25 

18 

Exod.  xx.  3 

56 

Eccl.  iv.  21 

62 

xix.  17 

59 

Eph.  iv.  29 

66 

xx.  14 . 

56 

iv.  31  . 

63 

xxii.  13 

57 

v.  27    . 

64 

Lev.  xix.  18 

56 

xxvi.  24 

62 

xxv.  40     . 

5 

Phil.  iv.  8    . 

62 

Deut.  vi.  13 

56 

xxviii.  24 

63 

xxv.  41 

61 

Col.  iii.  12  . 

*      65 

1  Sam.  v.  6 

86 

Isa.  v.   8     . 

57 

xxvii  42    . 

18 

I  Thes.  v.    15 

63 

xiii.  20 

87 

xxvi.  15 

66 

St.  Luke  ii.  36 

102 

I  Tim.  ii.  9,  10 

64 

Ps.  ii.  11      . 

67 

xxxvii. 

95 

iv.  62  . 

53 

2   Tim.  ii.  24 

66 

viii.  3  . 

8 

lvi.  5    . 

58 

viii.  46 

7 

James  ii.*  10 

61 

xxxiv.  14 

60 

lxvi.  2 . 

67 

St.  John  v.  44 

65 

iii.  2 

63 

xxxiv.  10 

57 

Jer.  xii.  13 

66 

Acts  xiii.  21      .     . 

88 

I  Pet.  i.  22 

63 

xxxiv.  13 

63 

xlviii.  10 

67 

xx.  28       .     . 

57 

iii.  1  ff 

64 

xlv.  10 

65 

Ezek.  xviii.  24 

55 

xxviii.   4    . 

18 

iii  9 

63 

xcvii.  IO 

65 

xxxvii. 

98 

Rom.  i.  9-12   .     . 

55 

2  Pet.  ii.  8  . 

63 

cxi.  1   . 

56 

Wisd.  i.  1 1 

63 

xi.  13  .     .     . 

18 

I  John  iii.  21 

63 

cxii.  10 

57 

St.  Matt.  iii.    4 

\ 

9 

xii.  I    .      .     . 

58 

Rev.  vii.  14 

20 

cxviii.  6 

7 

v.  8      . 

63 

xii.  14  . 

63 

xiii.  3  . 

in 

cxlix.    5 

56 

v.  28    . 

63 

xii.  15  .     .     . 

60 

xiv.  4    .      .58,  63,  64 

Prov.  iii.  3  . 

•      63 

vii.  12. 

60 

I  Cor.  vi.  17    . 

58 

xiv.  4  ff     .      .      .       64 

iv.  23  . 

63 

x,  22    . 

67 

vii.  25 .     .     . 

59 

VINCENT   OF   LERINS. 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Agrippinus,  bishop    of    Carthage, 

135- 

Ambrose,  St.  de  Fide,  134. 

Antelmi,  143,  157. 

Apollinaris,  12S,  139,  143. 

Ariminum,  council  of,  133. 

Arius,  128,  133,  150. 

Aries,  council  of,  135. 

Athanasius,  St.,  133. 

Athanasian  Creed,  128,  140,  141,  157. 

Augustine  St.,  127,  135,  155,  158,  159. 

Baptism,  Iteration  of,  128,  134,  135. 
Baronius,  127. 
Bazaine,  Marshal,  127. 

Capreolus,  Bishop  of  Carthage,  155. 
Celestine,  Pope,  127,  130,  156,  159. 
Celestine,    letter  to    the    bishops    of 

Southern  Gaul,  156,  159. 
Ccelestius,  149,  150. 
Commonitorium,  131. 
Communication  of  Properties,  142. 
Cyprian,  St.,  135. 
Cyril,  St.,  of  Alexandria,  127,  155. 

Development,  147. 

Donatus,  Donatists,  128,  133. 

Ephesus,  council    of,  127,    130,    138, 


Faustus,  bishop  of  Riez,  127. 

Gennadius,  127,  128. 

Honorat  St.,  Island  of,  127. 
Honoratus,  St.,  127,  131. 
Hilary,  bishop  of  Aries,  127,  157. 
Hilary,  bishop  of  Poictiers,  133. 
Hooker,  133,  135,  142. 

Jerome,  St.,  133. 

"Julian,  bishop  of  Eclanum,  153. 

Lerins,  island  of,  127. 

Mammea,  mother  of    the    Emperor 

Severus,  144. 
Marguerite,  St.,  island  of,  127. 
Massilian  clergy,  127,  158. 
Monasterium,  127. 
Montanus,  145. 

Nestorius,  130, 138, 139, 140,  143, 155. 
Nicene  creed,  enlarged,  129. 
Novatian,  150. 
Noris,  Cardinal,  127. 

Objectiones  Vincentianae,  128. 
Orange,  2d  council  of,  149. 
Origen,  129,  143. 
Orosius,  149. 


Pelagius,  149. 

Person,  persona,  141,  142. 

Philip,  the  first  Christian  emperor, 

144. 
Photinus,  128. 
Possidius,  134. 
Porphyry,  139,  144. 
Prosper,  127,  158,  159. 

Quod  ubique,  quod  semper,  quod 
ab  omnibus,  12S,  132. 

Sabellius,  150. 

Sedes  apostolica,  135. 

Semi-Pelagianism,  128,  149. 

Simon  Magus,  150. 

Sixtus  Third,  Pope,  127,  130,  155. 

Stephen,  Pope,  134. 

Tertullian,  129,  145. 
Theotocos,  143,  157. 
Tillemont,  128,  132. 

Vandal  persecution,  134. 
Victor,  Bishop  of  Vite,  134. 
Villula,  131. 

Waterland,  157. 

Zosimus,  bishop  of  Rome,  149. 


INDEX  OF  TEXTS. 


PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

Gen.  ix.  22 

•      136 

St.  Matt.  iv.  5 

ISI 

2  Cor.  xi.  12    .     .     .     151 

1  Tim.  vi.  20  .     .14 

7.  1S6 

Exod.  xxxi.  I  . 

•      147 

vii.  15       .     . 

I50 

xii.  2    . 

137 

2  Tim.  ii.  16,  17   . 

136 

Deut.  xiii.  1 

138,  145 

St.  John  iii.  13 

142 

Gal.  i.  6      . 

136 

iii.  6     .      .     . 

136 

xxxii.  7 

•      131 

Acts  xi.  28 

153 

i.  S       . 

136 

iii.  8     .      .     . 

136 

Ps.  xxii.  16 

.      142 

Rom.  vii.  13     . 

I40 

i.  9       . 

156 

iii.  9     .     .      . 

136 

xlvi.  10     . 

•      131 

xvi.  17,  18     . 

136 

ii.  9      . 

I50 

iv.  3,  4     .     . 

136 

Prov.  iii.  1  .     . 

•      131 

I  Cor.  i.  IO      .      . 

153 

v.  16    . 

137 

Titus  i.  10  .     .     . 

136 

ix.  16-1S  . 

•      147 

ii.  8      .     .     . 

142 

v.  25    . 

137 

2  John  10    .     .     . 

149 

xxii.   17     . 

•      131 

ii.  9     .     .     . 

I46 

I  Tim.  i.  19 

136 

Rev.  v.  1-5      .     . 

134 

xxii.  28 

146 

V.   II     .      .       . 

149 

v.  12    . 

136 

Eccles.  x.  8 

.      146 

xii.  27,  2S 

153 

v.  13    . 

136 

Ecclus.  viii.  14 

.      146 

xiv.  33  (bis) 

iS3 

vi.  4     . 

136 

JOHN    CASSIAN. 


INDEX  OF  SUBJECTS. 


Abel  replaced  by  Seth  and  his  seed, 

383- 

Abraham,  Egyptian  abbot,  consulted 
by  Germanus  and  Cassian,  186; 
quoted  from,  188;  works  miracu- 
lous cures,  447;  his  Conference 
on  mortification,  531  sq. 

Accidie,  Acedia,  233,  266  sq.,  339, 
343-4,  533;  akin  to  dejection, 
266,  342,  533;  injures  the  soul, 
267  sq.;  description  of,  267  sq., 
533;  how  to  be  cured,  268  sq., 
275,  342  sq.,  350,  533;  of  two 
kinds,  344. 

Adam  called  irpuTbnlaoTos  281;  an  ex- 
ample of  sin,  340;  had  know- 
ledge by  divine  inspiration,  383; 
how  tempted  and  fell,  379;  sac- 
rificed his  liberty,  526;  moral 
results  of  his  transgression,  519 
sq.;  not  a  complete  figure  of 
Christ,  607-8;  first  restored  in 
the  Second,  340. 

Alleluia,  ending  a  psalm,  207,  210. 

Alms,  a  duty  and  privilege,  503. 

Altar  reproached  by  Nestorius'  pre- 
sence, 596. 

Ambidextrous,     applied     spiritually, 

356-7- 

Ambrose,  Bishop  of  Milan,  his  teach- 
ing on  the  Incarnation,  617. 

Ammon  organised  monasticism  in 
Lower  Egypt,  186. 

Ananias  and  Sapphira,  252,  256,  257, 
482,  516. 

Anastasius,  Nestorius'  chaplain,  190, 
556;  follower  of  Theodore  of 
Mopsuestia,  556;  preaches 
against  Theotokos,  190,  556; 
originates  Nestorianism,  190, 
549.  556. 

Anchorites  in  Egypt,  184,  293,  319, 
477,  480  sq.,  523;  visited  by 
Cassian  and  Germanus,  184; 
originated  by  St.  Antony  and 
St.  Paul,  and  why  so  called,  481 ; 
their  aim,  185,  293,  319,  477, 
484,  490,  492;  their  humility 
and  patience,  484,  490;  pre- 
ferred by  Cassian,  185,  480, 
523;  have  a  grander  life  than 
the  Coenobites,  293,  481,  490, 
523;  how  they  are  trained,  480, 
490,  523;  the  best  districts  for 
them,  523. 


Andronicus,  abbot,  cured  of  a  Pos- 
session, 373. 

Angelic  powers  created  by  God,  377, 
381;  His  purpose  in  creating, 
377;  two  to  each  person,  381. 

Anger,  its  evils,  257,  342,  367, 
451  sq.,  459,  485;  its  better 
side,  258;  examples  against, 
259;  against  ourselves  is  valu- 
able, 260;  as  spoken  of  God, 
258;  its  implacable  form  as  re- 
venge, 260,  261;  cured  by  recon- 
ciliation, 261,  386,  452,  457, 
459;  as  cured  by  the  Gospel, 
263,  350,  386;  "with  excuse" 
considered,  363,  452;  of  three 
kinds,  344;  destroys  friendship, 
452,  453,  459;  to  be  repressed, 
459,  485;  to  be  rooted  out  by  a 
monk,  257  sq.,  339,  343,  350, 
452. 

Anger's  Synopsis,  304. 

Anthropomorphic  language  account- 
ed for,  258-9. 

Anthropomorphites  and  their  teach- 
ing, 187,  188,  258,  401,  403; 
the  heresy  and  controversy,  319, 
401  sq. 

Antidosis,  its  definition,  375. 

Antioch,  creed  of,  592,  593,  596; 
used  against  Nestorius,  594-6. 

Antiphona,  205,  208,  217. 

Antiphonal  singing,  205,  217. 

Antony,  hermit  in  the  Thebaid,  186, 
234,  308,  310;  founder  of  mon- 
asticism, 234,  243,  481;  his 
sayings  to  the  monks,  234;  his 
fastings,  243;  how  he  became 
an  ascetic,  320;  bequeathed  his 
sheepskin  to  Athanasius,  203; 
originated  the  anchorites,  481; 
his  opinion  on  prayer  and  its 
conditions,  398;  and  on  self- 
help  for  a  monk,  536;  was 
tempted  by  the  devils,  382. 

Apollinarians,  551-2;  taught  that 
Jesus  had  no  human  soul,  552. 

Apollonius,  Apollos,  abbot  in  the 
Thebaid,  314,  335. 

Appear,  its  Scriptural  force,  559. 

Arcadius,  Bishop  in  Gaul,  192. 

Archebius, anchorite, Bishop  in  Egypt, 

184,  245,  246,  371,  415;    assists 

Cassian,    184,    246,   415;    gives 

his  cell  to  Cassian,  and  builds 

627 


others,  186,  246;  earned  money 
to  clear  off  his  mother's  debts, 
246;  was  Bishop  of   Panephysis, 

.    415. 

Arians  and  Arianism,  551,  552,  593. 

Ascension  of  Christ  by  His  own 
power,  616,  617. 

Ash-Wednesday,  514. 

Athanasius  quoted,  401;  teaches  the 
Incarnation,  619. 

Athlete  in  Christ,  237  sq.,  263. 

Augustine,  Bishop  of  Hippo  Regius, 
teaches  the  Incarnation,  618; 
developed  predestinarianism, 
190-3;  his  teaching  one-sided, 
193;  how  related  to  Pelagian- 
ism,  190,  191;  not  valued  by 
Cassian,  191,  618;  restored  Le- 
porius,  552-5;  date  of  his  death, 
192. 

Augustinianism,  190-3. 

Aurelian  of  Aries,  his  rule,  224. 

Auxerre,  Council  of,  401. 

Auxonius,  Bishop  in  Gaul,  192. 

Avarice  a  principal  fault,  339. 

Babel  and  the  confusion  of  tongues, 

33.5- 
Bad  things,  discussed,  352  sq 
Baptism,  the  grace  of,  527. 
Barber,    Abbot    Macarius'    story    of, 

.537- 

Basil,  Bishop  of  Csesarea,  254;  aided 
monasticism,  200,  212;  his  rule, 
213,  217,  219,  224,  274;  a  say- 
ing of  his,  254. 

Basilisk  said  to  be  from  the  Ibis' 
egg,  607. 

Bees,  used  in  illustration,  607. 

Benedict  of  Nursia,  organiser  of  mon- 
astic system,  189,  194,  243;  his 
rule,  194,  205,  209,  215,  216, 
218,  219,  220,  221,  222,  224, 
225,  232,  243,  274,  405,  482. 

Bethlehem,  monastery  at,  184,  185, 
230;  received  Cassian  and  Ger- 
manus, 185. 

Bibliotheca  Maxima  Patrum,  553. 

Bingham  quoted,  217,330,  482,  503. 

Birth,  the  new,  through  the  font, 
593  sq.,  600. 

Bishops,  why  disliked  by  the  Egyp- 
tian monks,  401. 

Blessed  oil,  244. 

Braga,  Council  of,  401. 


628 


JOHN   CASSIAN. 


Bright  quoted,    190,    191,    193,  207, 

212,554.       ' 
Burial  by  embalming,  447. 
Butler,  on  the  Coptic  churches,  186, 

187. 

Csesarius,  Bishop  of  Aries,  193;    his 

rule,  206,  215,  224. 
Cain,   the   seed   of,   382  sq.;     called 

"the  Daughters  of  men,"  3S3. 
Calamus,  desert  in  Egypt,  274,  321, 

37i.  533- 
Canaanites  represent  classes  of  sins, 

347.  35o. 

Canonical  prayers,  205,  208,  210. 

Cases  of  conscience,  185. 

Cassian,  called  John  and  Afer,  1S3, 
184,  245;  probably  from  Gaul, 
183,  184,  186,  188;  his  own 
account  of  his  country,  183, 
532;  his  parentage  and  rela- 
tions, 184;  connected  with  Mar- 
seilles, 183;  well  educated  in 
youth,  183,  184;  ordained  by 
John  Chrysostom,  184,  188,  594, 
620;  travelled  with  his  friend 
Germanus,  184,  185,  295,  450, 
460,  479;    was  long  in   Egypt, 

183,  186,  413,  415;  attached  to 
the    monastery    at     Bethlehem, 

184,  416,  460;  visited  the  Egyp- 
tian anchorites,  184,  319,  413, 
415,  460  sq.,  479;  had  prom- 
ised to  return  to  Bethlehem, 
1S5,  416,  460  sq.;  wished  to 
stay  longer  in  Egypt,  673;  made 
Joseph  his  adviser,  185,460  sq.; 
longed    for    the    anchorite    life, 

185,  186,  416,  480  ;  his  duty  to 
return  to  Bethlehem,  186,  532, 
539;  his  visits  to  Egypt  uncer- 
tain, 1S6,  187;  was  ordained  at 
Constantinople,  188,  620;  put  in 
charge  of  the  Cathedral  treasury, 
188;  supported  S.  Chrysostom, 
188,  619,  620  ;  was  sent  as  en- 
voy to  Rome  and  made  priest 
there,  188;  settled  at  Marseilles, 
18S,  189;  wrote  at  Marseilles, 
188,  189;  influenced  Western 
monasticism,  189;  his  dates,  184, 
188,  189,  193;  his  relation  to 
Pelagianism,  193;  his  Pelagian 
writings,  192,  193;  his  biblio- 
graphy, 193  sq.;  his  writings  ex- 
purgated, 194;  his  writings 
against  Nestorius,  195,  549  sq.; 
his  visit  and  conference  with 
Paphnutius,  187,  319  sq.;  his 
visit  and  conference  with  Abbot 
Daniel,  330  sq.;  how  he  came 
to  write  the  Institutes  and  Con- 
ferences, 413;  and  on  the  In- 
carnation, 430, 549;  uses  doubt- 
ful language  in  theology,  564; 
misinterprets,  592. 

Cassiodorus  organised  monasteries, 
194;  his  rule,  215;   quoted,  184. 

Castor,  Bishop  of  Apta  Julia,  189, 
199;  asked  Cassian  to  write 
upon  the  Institutes,  199,  234, 
293>    3S".  413;     taught    psalm- 


singing,  205;  founded  a  monas- 
tery and  died,  205,  293. 

Casuistry,  cases  of,  351  sq.,  460  sq., 
468-9,  519  sq. 

Catechumens,  Mass  of,  278,  279. 

Catholic  rule,  the,  202. 

Cave  of  the  Nativity,  230. 

Celestine,  Bishop  of  Rome,  190;  ap- 
pealed to  from  Gaul,  192;  his 
death,  193. 

Cells,  monastic,  and  their  furniture, 

3S9>  497- 

Cenodoxia,  or  vainglory,  339. 

Chaeremon,  aged  anchorite  in  Egypt, 
184,  415,  416;  received  Cassian 
and  Germanus,  184,  416;  de- 
livered three  discourses,  185, 
192,415;  his  teaching  criticised, 
192;  his  bodily  appearance  and 
condition,  416;  first  Conference 
onPerfection,  413,  416  sq.;  third 
Conference  on  The  Protection  of 
God,  422  sq. 

Chastity  discoursed  upon,  185,  235, 
.236,  361  sq.,  422  sq.,  437,  518; 
that  of  the  philosophers  often  im- 
aginary, 424;  it  ought  not  to  be 
tested,  495. 

Cheek  offered  to  the  smiter,  457. 

Cherubim,  what  they  mean,  440. 

Christ,  not  a  mere  man,  190,  552  sq. ; 
always  was  and  is  God,  562  sq.; 
called  God,  563,  564,  577,  582 
sq.,  598,  606;  called  God  in 
prophecy,  557,  558,  559,  578; 
called  God  by  S.  Paul,  559, 
560,  564,  565,  567;  given  divine 
titles,  560,  562,  564,  566,  567, 
577,  582,  583,  585,  606;  giver 
of  divine  grace,  561,  582;  state- 
ment of  His  nature  and  titles, 
562,  564,  577,  582,  606;  the 
Wisdom  of  God  and  the  Power 
of  God,  568,  598;  born  of  a 
Virgin,  552  sq. ;  has  two  natures 
and  one  Person,  565  sq.;  alone 
sinless,  340  sq.,  552;  the  hypo- 
static union  in  Christ,  575.  602; 
the  Communication  of  Properties, 
575*  577-9.  584,  598,  600,  601; 
One  Person  in  Christ,  555  sq.; 
not  God  through  His  merits,  553 
sq.,  561  sq.,  581-3,  594,  508; 
not  made  God  at  baptism,  553, 
554,  561,  562, 598, 616;  orat  the 
resurrection,  553,  554,  562,  599; 
was  before  His  birth,  557  sq., 
573  sq.,  587,  595,  600,  601, 
606;  existed  from  all  eternity, 
573  sq.,  601,  606;  prayed  to 
by  name,  604;  worshipped  as 
God  and  in  God  609;  had  His 
own  glory,  616;  called  by 
Nestorius,  Theodochos,  581, 
582,  608;  had  power  in  Him- 
self, 613-5;  now  tempted  as 
the  Second  Adam,  340  sq., 
610;  how  unique  in  nature  and 
temptation,  340-1;  the  order  of 
His  temptations,  341;  His  sacri- 
ficial death,  213,  340;  how  filled 
with  the  Spirit,  421,  554,  557, 


613;  how  different  from  the 
saints,  582,  587,  590,  598;  not 
a  bodily  phantasm  at  birth,  583, 
584,  590,  594;  or  like  a  molten 
image,  558,  581,  590,  594,  60S 
sq.;  misrepresented  by  Ebion, 
552;  by  Nestorianism,  190,  421, 
551  sq. ;  by  Photinianism,  553, 
554;  how  our  Saviour,  580;  a 
sacrifice  and  an  example,  552; 
His  name  effective  in  miracles, 
447;  His  doctrine  complete, 
552;  omnipotence  in  His  birth, 
606,  608;  never  a  secret  God, 
609,  617;  descended  into  hell, 
213,214;  had  a  genealogy,  612; 
His  twofold  parentage,  61 1-2; 
was  more  than  Adam,  607-8; 
born  yet  eternal,  574,  604,  606; 
foreshown  in  prophecy,  558, 
578,  579.  .583;  acknowledged 
by  the  devil,  610;  His  Incarna- 
tion taught  by  S.  John,  584,  587; 
His  teaching  about  Himself,  5S6, 
587;  the  teaching  of  His  resur- 
rection, 585,  600;  the  teaching 
of  the  Creed,  594-5;  account 
and  teaching  of  His  baptism, 
572;  the  ascension  by  His  own 
power,  616-7;  His  yoke  easy 
and  burden  light,  541-3;  draws 
by  love,  505;  not  two  Christs, 
598-9,  602. 

Christian  Remembrancer  quoted,  193. 

Christmas,  its  observance,  401. 

Christotocos,  why  advocated  by  Nes- 
torius, 556,  557,  620. 

Chrysostom  quoted,  401,  592. 

Church  Quarterly  Review,  581. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  218,  488. 

Coenobite  monks,  185,  206,  480; 
practise  obedience  and  subjec- 
tion, 185,  206,  480;  their  aim 
and  perfection,  492;  their  origin, 
480;  their  institutes,  205  sq., 
480;  inferior  to  the  Anchorites, 
293,  490  sq.  ;  their  renunciations, 
4S0;  their  customs  as  to  using 
Scripture,  206. 

Ccenobium,  like  the  primitive  church, 
480;  how  different  from  a  mon- 
astery, 483;  its  training,  49c; 
less  strict  than  the  anchorite 
monastery,  490—2;  its  conven- 
iences, 491  sq.;  its  distractions, 
492;     what    if     one    leaves    it, 

493-4- 

Collect,  Collecta,  218. 

Commentators  to  be  avoided,  245. 

Communication  of  Properties,  its 
definition,  575;  as  in  Christ, 
575-S0,  5S4,  598,  601-2. 

Communion,  Holy,  on  Saturday  and 
Sunday,  486;  daily,  373,  486; 
weekly,  531;  once  a  year  by- 
some  monks,  531 ;  is  the  Lord's, 
218;  how  often  to  be  received, 
373.  531'.  ^  to  be  refused  to 
possessed,  372-3. 

Compline  service,  215. 

Concealments  by  the  saints,  469,  470. 

Conception  of  Christ,  557,  562. 


INDEX    OF   SUBJECTS. 


629 


Confession,  part  of  monastic  training, 
221,  312  sq.,  500;  destroys  Sa- 
tanic tyranny,  312-3;  to  be  re- 
ceived in  sympathy,  313-5;  as  a 
means  of  perfection,  455,  499 
sq.;   its  seal,  313-4. 

Conscience,  as  our  guide,  511;  gives 
surest  proof  of  pardon,  49S. 

Contrition  by  remembrance  of  sin, 
499,  501. 

Conviction  of  sin,  of  different  kinds, 
396;  leads  to  fervent  prayer, 
396,  397;    often  to  tears,  397. 

Cook,  to  the  monks  by  turns,  225;  or 
permanent,   225-6 

Cords  of  the  monk,  203. 

Counting  on  the  fingers,  its  spiritual 
meaning,  544. 

Covetousness,  arguments  against,  248 
sq.,  342  sq.;  as  a  vice,  yet 
made  useful,  249;  its  root,  250, 
344;  its  effects  upon  a  monk, 
250  sq.;  treated  as  a  sin,  252, 
342;  how  to  be  conquered,  255; 
found  in  complete  poverty,  255; 
examples  of,  255-6;  three  kinds 
of,  344.    _ 

Creed,  has  divine  and  human  author- 
ity, 593;  is  witness  to  the  truth, 
593-6,  602;  to  be  believed  as  a 
whole,  600-1. 

Creeds,  enriched  from  Canons,  592; 
in  singular  or  plural,  592-3;  that 
of  Antioch,  592,  593,  596,  601. 

Cross,  sign  of,  382,447;  preached  by 
S.  Paul,  567;  an  offence  to  the 
world,  567,  598. 

Curzon  quoted,  185. 

Cyclinnius,  perhaps  Bishop  of  Frejus, 
.  552. 

Cyril  of  Alexandria  quoted,  190,  401. 

Dalila  the  Philistine,  465. 

Daniel,  Egyptian  priest,  visited  Cas- 
sian  and  Germanus,  187,  330. 

David,  as  an  example  of  self-restraint, 
259,  260. 

"  Daughters  of  men,"  how  related  to 
the  fallen  angels,  3S2  sq. 

Dead  man  raised  to  life,  446-7;  the 
bodies  embalmed,  447. 

Decanus,  the  dean  in  a  monastery, 
221. 

Dejection,  as  hurting  the  soul,  264 
sq->  339'  342,  343;  whence  and 
how  it  comes,  265,  342;  how 
healed,  264  sq.  350;  when  use- 
ful, 266;  akin  to  Accidie,  266, 
343;  of  two  kinds,  344;  as 
despair  of  salvation,  265. 

Demoniacs,  as  possessed,  366. 

Deposition  of  a  late  abbot,  celebrated, 
185,  489. 

Descent  into  hell,  with  release  to 
some,  213-4. 

Desert,  its  advantages,  491. 

Devils,  how  united  to  the  human 
soul,  366,  371,  374;  subject  to 
man's  power,  382;  have  power 
over  the  possessed,  366,  371, 
374,  382;  how  they  know  men's 
thoughts,  367,  371,   389;   tempt 


by  suggestion,  367-9,  453,  538- 
9;  their  modes  of  attack,  368, 
37i>  374,  382.  4535  various  in 
rank  and  aims,  368,  374  sq.  381, 
538;  have  struggles  in  tempting 
and  overcoming, 369,  382;  limited 
by  divine  permission,  370,  382; 
fear  Christ,  613;  are  driven  out, 
445,  487;  fight  with  men, 
449;  sow  disputes,  453;  pro- 
claim false  doctrine,  374;  their 
fall,  378-9;  invisible  in  the  air, 
379;  fight  with  each  other,  380; 
why  called  powers,  380. 

Diaconate,  its  duties,  278. 

Diaconia,  its  meaning,  483,  503. 

Diogenes,  story  about,  424. 

Diolcos,  monasteries  at,  246,  479; 
visited  by  Cassian,  246. 

Discipline  for  obedience,  211. 

Discretion,  discoursed  upon,  187,  308 
sq. ;  necessary  to  a  monk,  308 
sq.;  examples  of  its  absence,  309 
sq.;  how  to  be  gained,  309;  its 
Scripture  testimony,  311,  316. 

Dismissal  of  the  Catechumens,  279. 

"  Dissolves    Jesus,"    criticism    upon, 

..587-. 
Divine   gifts,   discoursed    upon,  185, 

445    sq.;     threefold    system    of, 

445;    powers  of  healing,  446-7; 

chief  is  humility,  and  casting  out 

personal  faults,  448. 
Divine  government,  questions  upon, 

445- 
Divinity  of  Christ,  misrepresented  by 

heresy,   551   sq. ;    is  not   a  later 

addition,  553  sq.,  561. 
Dorner  quoted,  564. 
Dove  descended  on.  Christ,  610. 
Duchesne  quoted,  401. 
Duties  in  the  monastery  divided,  224. 

Easter,  time  announced  from  Alex- 
andria, 401;    preceded  by  Lent, 

513- 

Easter  and  Whitsuntide  season,  207, 
212,447;  called  Quinquagesima, 
207,  212,  447,  503;  its  customs, 
207,  212. 

Easter-Eve,  513. 

Eating  only  at  meals,  224. 

Ebion,  speculations  as  to  his  per- 
sonality, 551;  a  humanitarian, 
.   551,  588. 

Ebionites,  their  teaching  about  Christ, 
551,588. 

Economy,  the  divine,  588. 

Envy,  a  fault  hard  to  cure,  488. 

Ephesus,  Council  of,  549. 

Epiphanius,  Bishop  of  Salamis,  pro- 
moted monasticism,  212;  quoted, 
.  274,  401,  488,  551. 

Epiphany,  account  of  the  festival, 
401. 

Eucherius,  Bishop  of  Lyons,  1S9, 
413,  479;  epitomised  Cassian's 
Institutes,  193;  received  the 
dedication  of  Seven  Confer- 
ences, 477,  479. 

Eunomians,  446,  551;  perhaps  sepa- 
rated the  Persons   of   the   Trin- 


ity,   552;    the   first   Anomoeons, 

552. 
Eunuchs,  their  lukewarmness,  336, 
Euprepius,  his  monastery  at  Antioch, 

5?2- 
Eusebius,  Bishop  of  Csesarea,  quoted, 

207,  302,  488,  515. 
Eusebius,  Bishop  of  Dorylseum,  592. 
Eutychianism  approached  by  Cassian, 

564- 
Evagrius  quoted,  556. 
Eve    suffered    by  persuading  Adam, 

379- 
Evening   Service  in    the    monastery, 

_  445>  46i- 

Evil  has  no  power  over  the  unwill- 
ing) 353>  3^5;  was  not  created, 
354>  377;  as  equivalent  to  afflic- 
tion, 354.  _ 

Excommunication  in  a  monastery, 
211. 

Extremes  meet,  316. 

Faith,  itself  from  God,  327;  leads  to 
shun  sin,  417;  does  not  limit 
divine  grace,  433. 

Fall,  its  moral  results,  519  sq. 

Fast,  two  days  in  the  week,  21S, 
241,  242,  243;  that  of  Easter 
and  Pentecost  relaxed,  186,  212, 
217,  507,  508  sq.;  not  on  the 
Sabbath  (Saturday),  217,  317, 
513;  a  canonical  observance, 
236,  512;  may  be  relaxed  by 
authority,  242-3,  509,  51 1-2; 
Easter  fast  announced  by  Festal 
letters,   401;    the    Lenten    fast, 

513- 

Fasting,  not  alike  to  all,  235,  317, 
508  sq.;  rules  for,  236  sq.,  306, 
316  sq.,  508  sq.;  canonical  ob- 
servance, 236,  512;  a  spiritual 
exercise,  241-2,  297,  508  sq.: 
is  sparing  and  voluntary,  243, 
297,  317,  318,  508  sq.;  only  an 
aid  to  perfection,  298  sq.,  306, 
316,  317,  508,  510,  512;  when 
harmful,  306,  316,  508,  510; 
is  not  good  in  itself,  508,  509; 
its  value,  510  sq.;  not  to  be 
done  in  anger,  457;  not  always 
done     by    the     disciples,     510, 

5ii- 
Faults,  overcome  by  three  thoughts, 
416;  their  nature  and  cure,  435, 
493;  how  cured  even  in  solitude, 

494-5- 
Fear,  an  imperfect  motive,  419;    the 

outcome  of  greatest  love,  420; 

leads  to  perfection,  421,  422. 
Feeling,  sudden  changes  of,  331;    of 

fear   and   hope,   how  imperfect, 

419. 
Feet-washing  in  the  monastery,  225. 
"  Festal  letters  "  announcing  Easter, 

401,  402. 
Filtanius,  Bishop  in  Gaul,  192. 
Flesh,  used  with  different  meanings, 

333;  its  lust,  333  sq.;  as  affected 

by  freewill,  334  sq.;    and  spirit, 

332  sq. 
Fleury  quoted,  184,  552. 


630 


JOHN    CASSIAN. 


Florentius,  Bishop  of  Hippo  Diar- 
rhytus,  555. 

Food,  dried,  225,  226,  375;  raw,  225, 
226;  abstinence  from,  235  sq., 
306.  316  sq.;  canonical  allow- 
ance to  monks,  318,491;  monk- 
ish feast  described,  375,  491; 
quantity  used  is  made  a  measure 
of  time,  491. 

Fornication,  339  sq.,  343,  345,  367, 
424,449,  506;  remedies  for,  339 

sq->  343.  344.  35°;  three  sorts 
of  the  sin,  344,  424;  in  thought, 
494. 

Francis  de  Sales  quoted,  541. 

Freewill,  in  relation  to  divine  grace, 
192,  193,  325  sq.,  365,  424,  426 
sq.;  the  difficulty  stated,  329, 
426;  as  between  Flesh  and 
Spirit,  334  sq.,  365;  given  by 
God  as  part  of  human  nature, 
428  sq.;  not  sufficient  for  salva- 
tion, 434;    its  weakness,  427. 

Freewill  offerings,  513,  515. 

Friendship, Conference  upon,  450 sq.; 
of  different  kinds,  450;  how  and 
when  indissoluble,  450-2;  only 
among  the  perfect,  451;  some 
cannot  last,  460. 

Frontinius,  ascetic,  retired  to  Nitria, 
186. 

Games,  the  Grecian,  may  teach  spiri- 
tual rules,  237-9. 

Gehazi,  an  example  of  covetousness, 
256,  257. 

Gennadius  quoted,  183,  184,  193, 
194. 

Germanus,  friend  and  fellow-traveller 
of  Cassian,  184,  295,  300;  spiri- 
tual brother  to  Ca6sian,  185;  in 
monastery  at  Bethlehem,  184; 
visited  the  Egyptian  anchorites, 
184-5;  ordained  at  Constanti- 
nople, 188;  sent  with  Cassian  to 
Rome,  188;  discusses  Freewill 
and  Grace  with  Paphnutius, 
325  sq.;  Eight  principal  faults 
with  Serapion,  339  sq.;  Incon- 
stancy of  mind  and  Spiritual 
wickedness  with  Serenus,  361  sq. 

Girdle,  the  mark  of  a  monk,  201; 
spiritually  understood,  204-5. 

Gladiator,  as  a  Christian  type,  345-6. 

Gloria  Patri  used,  208,  209. 

Gluttony,  317,  339  sq.,  367;  forbid- 
den to  the  monks,  234  sq.;  rem- 
edies for,  239  sq.,  340  sq.,  348, 
350;  of  three  kinds,  343;  repre- 
sented by  the  Egyptians,  348; 
how  a  daily  debtor,  349,  350,367. 

Goal,  valuable  to  have  one  fixed,  300; 
that  the  soul  cleave  to  God,  298; 
goal  and  aim  of  life,  296  sq.;  of 
a  monk  discoursed  upon,  187. 

God,  anthropologically  spoken  of, 
258;  His  grace  and  help  stated, 
283  sq.,  365,  423  sq.;  contem- 
plation of,  how  gained,  302;  au- 
thor and  finisher  of  grace,  325 
sq.;  faith  and  virtues  from  Him, 
327  sq.,  331,  377.  423  sq.,  445; 


begins,  continues,  and  ends, 
32S-9  331,  365;  why  allows 
temptations,  331-2,  430;  our 
desertion  by,  332;  not  unjust  or 
careless,  352  sq. ;  a  moral  gov- 
ernor, 351  sq.;  did  not  create 
evil,  354,  377;  alone  unchange- 
able, 360,  582;  alone  incorpo- 
real, 366;  universal  ruler  for 
good,  373,  385;  made  everything 
perfect,  385;  as  "taken  away 
from  me,"  402;  His  help  essen- 
tial to  us,  423  sq.;  His  daily 
providence,  425,  433;  His  in- 
scrutable providence,  433,  434, 
445;  as  "  born  of  awoman,"  de- 
nied by  Nestorius,  549,  560, 
561,  568,  569;  the  Word  of, 
truly  Incarnate,  553-4,  560-1, 
568  sq.,  604;  not  God  but  God- 
head united  to  the  manhood, 
557.  583.  585  sq-;  born  in  hu- 
man form,  558,  561,  563,  569, 
577,  582;  being  "  pierced," 
said  in  prophecy,  558;  name 
given  to  Christ,  557  sq.,  563-4, 
577;  as  applied  to  men,  563; 
to  Him  nothing  impossible,  604; 
as  seen  face  to  face,  610;  cruci- 
fied in  the  Lord  of  Glory,  569; 
Son  of,  denied  by  the  Jews, 
579;  yet  true  of  Christ,  582. 
Godhead,  fulness  of,  in  Christ,  583; 
united  to  the  manhood  in  Christ, 

557. 583  sq- 

Good,  the  highest  unreached,  521 
sq.;  obtained  from  temptation, 
542;  "good  things  "  discussed, 
352  sq. 

Goodness,  human  compared  with  the 
divine,  521. 

Gore  quoted,  330. 

Goulbourn  quoted,  541. 

Grace  of  God  in  our  perfection,  192, 
283  sq.,  331,  423,  582;  as  al- 
lowing for  freewill,  325  sq.; 
forsakes  us  for  a  time  and  pur- 
pose, 332;  how  related  to  hea- 
then virtues,  424;  essential  to  us, 
423  sq. ;  precedes  and  follows 
our  goodwill,  427-8;  never 
against  human  effort,  430;  gives 
many  calls,  432;  transcends  all 
human  faith,  423;  supports 
where  law  condemns,  505;  con- 
trasted with  law,  505,  515  sq., 
527;  frees  saints  from  the  law  of 
sin,  527,  529;  gives  easy  for- 
giveness, 527;  its  gift  innate  in 
Christ  as  God,  560-1;  as  repre- 
sented in  Pelagianism,  190  sq. 

Gregory,  Naz.,  Bishop  of  Constanti- 
nople, 620;  teaching  on  the  In- 
carnation, 619;    quoted,  583. 

Gregory,  Bishop  of  Rome,  quoted, 
218,  258,  279,  483. 

Gyrovagi,  monks  spoken  of  by  S. 
Benedict,  482,  483. 

Hahn  quoted,  592. 
Hall  quoted,  234. 
Hammond  (Lit.)  quoted,  483. 


Healing,  gifts  of,  445,  446. 

Heathen  virtues  and  God's  grace, 
424. 

Hefele  quoted,  556. 

Helladius,  Bishop,  friend  of  Cassian, 
189,  293,  387,  413,  477;  see 
unknown,  293;  induced  Cassian 
to  write  his  Conferences,  413, 

Heresies,  a  list  of,  551-2;  propagate 
each  other,  552,  555,  580,  581, 
599,  600;  new  condemned  in 
the  old,  556;  pervert  the  Scrip- 
tures, 614,  616. 

Hermas  Pastor,  382. 

Hermiani,  302. 

Heron,  aged  anchorite,  attempted 
suicide,  310. 

Hesycas,  pupil  of  S.  Jerome,  intro- 
duced monaslicism  into  Cyprus, 
212. 

Hezekiah,  an  example  of  vainglory, 
277. 

Hilarian  introduced  monasticism  into 
Palestine,  212. 

Hilary  of  Poictiers,  188,  617;  con- 
fessor for  the  faith  and  banished, 
617;  his  teaching  on  the  Incar- 
nation, 617. 

Hilary,  layman,  correspondent  of 
S.  Augustine,  191,  192. 

Hippolytus  quoted,  488. 

Holy  Communion,  when  celebrated, 
213. 

Holy  Ghost,  called  a  creature  by 
Macedonius,  552;  not  in  Christ 
as  in  the  saints,  582;  how  re- 
lated to  Christ's  conception,  613; 
does  not  prevent  the  agency  of 
the  Son,  613-5. 

Homo,  its  theological  meaning,  554, 
557.  598.  601,  602. 

Homo  dominicus,  a  term  now  disused, 
383,  421,  602. 

Honoratus,  Bishop  of  Aries,  189,  190, 
191,  413;  received  dedication  of 
seven  Conferences  from  Cassian, 

477- 

Honorius  of  Autun,  183. 

Hood  of  the  Egyptian  monk,  202. 

Hooker  quoted,  209,  575,  577. 

Hope,  an  imperfect  motive,  419. 

Hort  quoted,  592. 

Hours  of  prayer,  authorities  for,  214; 
the  third,  205,  212,  213,  214; 
the  sixth,  205,  213,  214;  the 
ninth,  205,  213,  214;  daily,  205, 
212  sq.;  the  seven  canonical, 
214,  215. 

Humanitarianismof  Ebion,  551,  552; 
of  Nestorianism,  580-1,  608-9. 

Humility,  among  the  monks,  225  sq., 
229,  331;  its  signs,  232,  497;  a 
cure  for  pride,  279,  282,  287, 
290,  331,  457;  mock  humility, 
484;    true  humility,  484,  497-8. 

Hydra,  the  tale,  551;  a  symbol  of 
heresy,  551. 

Hypostasis,  its  theological  use,  576. 

Hypostatic  union  in  Christ,  575,  576, 
.   602. 

Idleness  full  of  danger,  273,  536. 


INDEX    OF   SUBJECTS. 


631 


Image  of  God  restored  in  Christ,  607, 
608. 

Impossible  commands,  if  given  to  a 
monk,  221,  227. 

Impossibilities  not  to  be  mentioned  re- 
garding God,  604,  606. 

Impure  cannot  give  or  receive  spiri- 
tual knowledge,  442;  may  have 
knowledge  beyond  the  saints, 
442,  443;  has  not  true  know- 
ledge, 443. 

Incarnation,  the,  Cassian's  writings 
upon,  549  sq.;  statement  of, 
555  sq.,  564,  568  sq.,  573  sq., 
577  sq.;  S.  John's  teaching 
upon,  584;  the  mystery  implies 
the  Divinity,  588,  606;  no  ques- 
tion of  time,  604,  606;  no  ques- 
tion of  possibility  or  impossi- 
bility, 604,  606;  confessed  by 
Martha,  Peter,  and  Thomas, 
569  sq.  ;  testimonies  in  the 
church,  617  sq. 

Inconsistency  of  mind  and  spiritual 
wickedness,  187,  361  sq. 

Indifferent  things,  what,  352  sq. 

Indulgences  to  monks,  218,  242. 

Inferiors  may  see  a  truth  and  offer  a 
good  suggestion,  454. 

Intention  qualifies  an  action,  463. 

Intercession,  what,  391. 

Irenseus  quoted,  488,  515. 

Isaac,  Egyptian  abbot,  187,  387;  dis- 
ciple of  S.  Antony,  387;  his 
two  Conferences  on  prayer,  387 
sq.,  401  sq. 

Isidore  of  Seville,  his  rule,  215,  220, 
221. 

Isidore,  presbyter  in  Egypt,  486,  487. 

Israel,  interpretation  of  the  word, 
293.  35°.  6°9- 

Jacob,  deceiver  yet  given  the  blessing, 
463;    wrestled  with  God,  609. 

Jerome,  his  dates,  184;  at  Bethlehem 
monastery,  184;  writer  and  trans- 
lator, 200;  visited  the  Egyptian 
monks,  186;  much  respected  by 
Cassian,  184;  teaches  the  Incar- 
nation, 618;  quoted,  212,  218, 
221,  222,  226,  243,  258,  274, 
3°4>  339>  468,  481,  544,  574, 
604,  609. 

Joash,  an  example  of  pride,  2S6. 

Job,  his  victory,  356;  Job's  patience 
no  benefit  to  the  devil,  355. 

John,  abbot  of  Thmuis,  436,  437. 

John  Chrysostom,  Bishop  of  Con- 
stantinople, came  from  Antioch, 
620;  teacher  of  the  Incarnation, 
619,620;  ordained  Cassian,  184, 
188;    quoted,  184. 

John,  Egyptian  abbot,  of"  great  hu- 
mility, 185,  243,  246,'  247,  437, 
489,  490,  496;  became  a  Coeno- 
bite for  austerity,  185,  490;  dis- 
coursed upon  the  aim  of  the 
coenobite  and  hermit,  185,  489 
sq.;  had  charge  of  the  alms, 
5°3- 

John    of  Lycopolis,    188,   226,   306, 

545- 


I  John  iv.  2,  3,  criticism  upon,  5S7. 

Joseph,  anchorite  in  Egypt,  184,  185, 
416,  449,  450 ;  received  Cas- 
sian and  Germanus,  184,  416, 
450  ;  had  been  primarius  of 
Thmuis,  185,  450  ;  could  speak 
in  Greek,  450;  first  Conference 
on  Friendship,  450  sq.;  second 
Conference  on  making  promises, 
460  sq. 

Jovinianus,  a  holy  brother,  friend  of 
Cassian,  477. 

Judas,  an  example  of  covetousness, 
255,  256,  257,  472  ;  had  no 
merit  in  our  salvation,  335,  463, 
.  472- 

Julius  Africanus  quoted,  383. 

Justin  Martyr  quoted,  230. 

Juvenal  quoted,  544. 

Kindness,  even  to  the  idle  and  care- 
less, 271;  also  to  the  erring, 
272. 

Kindred,  should  be  far  from  monks, 
534,  535,  539;  should  not  pay 
for  monks'  wants,  535,  536; 
should  be  welcomed  when  visit- 
ing, 540. 

Kneeling,  when  forbidden,  212,  507; 
custom  considered,  507. 

Knowledge  of  the  religious,  practical 
and  contemplative,  435  sq.; 
practical  twofold,  435,  436,  438; 
system  of  true  knowledge,  439. 

Labbe  quoted,  553. 

Labour,   among  the  monks,  210  sq., 

268  sq.;  joined  with  prayer,  211, 

213,  268;    prevents  many  faults, 

271. 
Laodicea,  Council  ofT  213,  217. 
Lateness,  penance  for,  216. 
Lauds,  service  of,  215,  216. 
Laziness,    as   found  in  a  monastery, 

273  sq. 
Leisure,  its  temptations,  269,  273. 
Lent,  its  fast,  the  tithe  of  the  year, 

513;    very    differently    counted, 

513.   sh,  515;    onlY  a.  sma11 

tithe,  515;  was  not  in  primitive 
times,  515. 

Leo,  Bishop  of  Rome,  friend  of  Cas- 
sian, 188,  549;  induced  Cassian 
to  write  on  the  Incarnation, 
549;  had  been  archdeacon,  190; 
quoted,  554. 

Leontius,  Bishop,  189,  192,  293,  387, 
592;  had  dedication  of  Cassian's 
Conferences,  293,  413,  477. 

Leontius,  a  "  brother  "  at  Marseilles, 
189,  477. 

Leporius  of  Treves,  heretic,  his  his- 
tory. .  552i  553;  propagated 
Pelagianism,  190,  552,  553, 
616;  combined  it  with  Nestori- 
anism,  552,  616;  was  recovered 
by  S.  Augustine,  552,  553,  554; 
recanted  his  Pelagianism,  553 
sq.;    his    letters   of   recantation, 

.552,  553,  554,  555- 
Lerins,  monastery,  188,  1S9;    famous 
in  its  scholars,  188. 


Lessons  in  Church,  two  or  three, 
206;    how  selected,  207. 

Lies,  to  be  feared,  464,  465;  admit 
of  casuistry,  465;  Scripture  ex- 
amples considered,  465-7;  can 
we  be  driven  into  them,  468; 
examples  of  dissembling  and 
hiding,  469,  470. 

Life,  uprightness  of,  more  than  mira- 
cles, 449. 

Lightfoot  quoted,  394. 

Locust,  illustrative  of  Christ's  birth, 
607. 

Lord's  Prayer  and  its  Petitions, 393  sq. 

Love,  to  guide  even  in  reproofs,  272; 
the  divine,  will  not  end,  299; 
how  to  attain  its  height,  417, 
452;  protection  against  sin,  417. 
418;  perfects  God's  image  and 
likeness,  418,  452;  perfected  in 
prayer  for  our  enemies,  419, 
452;  the  bond  of  true  friend- 
ship, 450  sq.;  lost  in  disputes 
and  angry  feelings,  452-3;  is 
God,  454;  of  different  grades, 
.454- 

Lucifer,  turned  from  archangel  to 
devil,  280-1. 

Lucius,  Arian,  Bishop  of  Alexandria, 

483- 

Lumby  quoted,  597. 

Lust  of  the  flesh  and  of  the  spirit  dis- 
coursed upon,  187. 

Macarius,  abbot,  his  advice  to  monks, 
248. 

Macarius  of  Alexandria,  248,  372, 
436;  was  over  the  guest-house, 
436;   master  in  perfection,  453. 

Macarius  of  Upper  Egypt,  248,  345, 
446;    story  about,  537. 

Macarius,  priest  of  Cellse,  352. 

Macedonians,  551. 

Machetes,  anchorite,  243  sq.;  his 
counsels,  244. 

Mafor,  the  monk's  cape,  203. 

Magical  arts,  382,  384. 

Man,  his  aim  and  perfect  bliss,  404: 
made  immortal,  425;  was  proved 
by  temptations,  430  sq.;  strength 
of  will  tested,  430;  called  by 
grace,  432;  goodness  not  good 
like  God's,  521,  582;  his  moral 
inability,  519  sq.,  553;  under 
the  law  of  sin,  525  sq.,  552, 
553;  not  man,  but  manhood, 
united  to  Godhead,  557. 

Manhood  and  Godhead  in  Christ, 
557>  583  sq.;  Christ's  shown  in 
the  New  Testament,  584  sq. 

Mansi  quoted,  592. 

Manichees  and  their  teaching,  583, 
584,  588. 

Marcellus  o-f  Ancyra,  master  of  Pho- 
tinus,  552. 

Marcionites,  errors  on  the  Incarna- 
tion, 584. 

Marinus,  Bishop  in  Gaul,  192. 

Mark,  first  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  206. 

Marriage  v.  spiritual  perfection,  5°5- 
7;  its  teaching  upon  the  Incar- 
nation, 5S8-9. 


632 


JOHN   CASSIAN. 


Marseilles,  its  monasteries,  189. 

Martha,  her  case  and  Mary's,  298; 
her  confession,  569. 

Martin,  Bishop  of  Tcurs,  his  influence 
on  monasticism,  189. 

Martyr-relics,  351,  352. 

Mary,  Ever-Virgin,  554,  556,  617, 
618;  truly  Theotocos,  556,  557, 
559,  56o;  561,  562,  563,  570, 
581,  5S3,  595,  596,  597,  604, 
605,  606,  611,  612,  618,  620; 
not  merely  Christotocos,  556, 
570,  581,  596,  620;  strengthened 
to  become  Theotocos,  556,  581, 
604,  606;  her  part  in  the  Con- 
ception of  Christ,  557,  562,  572, 
598,  604,  606,  611,  612,  617; 
bore  her  Creator,  574;  had  a 
Son  Eternal,  573  sq.,  604,  605, 
606;  had  a  son  greater  than  her- 
self, 5745  was  °f  the  same  sub- 
stance with  Christ,  605,  606, 
607. 

Massilians,  191. 

Mats,  for  sleeping  and  writing  on  in 
the  cells,  222,  307,  445,  461. 

Mazices,  a  tribe  met  in  the  Thebaid, 
310. 

Meals,  in  fasting,  243. 

Meditation  on  God,  301. 

Melotes  of  a  monk,  203. 

Memorial  and  oblation  for  those  at 
rest,  310. 

Memory  should  be  filled  with  Scrip- 
ture and  good  thoughts,  441. 

Merits,  where  not  allowed,  423. 

Mind,  concentrated  in  prayer,  386, 
389,  408,  441,  530;  in  persever- 
ance, 365,  388;  its  perfection, 
363-4;  wanders,  362  sq.,  388, 
389,  408  sq.,  441,  530;  question 
of  its  remaining  in  one  condi- 
tion, 359,  362  sq.;  even  celes- 
tial may  change,  360. 

Minervius,  a  "brother"  at  Mar- 
seilles, 189,  477. 

Mines,  common  penalty  for  confes- 
sors, 483. 

Miracle  of  the  loaves  and  fishes,  591, 
605;  not  explained  how,  591; 
mystically  interpreted,  591. 

Miraculous  powers,  445,  446,  447, 
591;  not  from  human  merits, 
447;  less  than  moral  upright- 
ness, 449. 

Missa,  use  of  word  shown,  208,  210, 
216,  218,  278. 

Monastery,  the  Egyptian,  described, 
187;  adapted  to  conditions,  204; 
practice  of  psalm-singing,  205 
sq.;  honours  and  precedences 
within,  205  sq. ;  duties  within, 
2iosq.,25i;  how  different  from 
a  Coenobium,  483. 

Monasticism,  organised  in  Lower 
Egypt,  186,  413;  how  developed 
in  Gaul,  18S,  189,  199,  413; 
Western  owed  much  to  Cassian, 
189,  199,  201  sq. ;  how  de- 
veloped in  the  East,  212  sq.; 
its  institutes,  201,  205  sq. ;  its 
austerity  and  strictness,  205  sq., 


216,  217;  introduced  into  Pales- 
tine and  Cyprus,  212. 

Money-changers,  their  duties,  304 
sq.,  311. 

Monks,  of  three  kinds  in  Egypt,  185, 
479  sq.;  perhaps  a  fourth,  482- 
3;  in  the  Egyptian  deserts,  185, 
186,  206,  480;  as  seen  when 
lately  visited,  186,  242;  their 
robe,  202,  222;  their  girdle, 
201,  204;  not  usually  wearing 
sackcloth,  202;  their  hood, 
tunic,  202;  their  scapular,  205; 
their  cords,  cape,  sheepskin, 
goatskin,  staff,  203;  their  bed, 
222,  307,  461;  no  shoes  but 
sandals,  204;  their  food,  222, 
224,  242,  316,  317,  318,  343; 
their  meals,  218,  222,  224,  242, 
312,  318,  343,  375,  422,  489, 
491;  their  wardrobe,  222;  their 
cells,  210,  222,  243,  245,  278, 
3°7>  339,  36o»  4i6,  480,  497, 
533,  535;  how  best  trained, 
206,  221,  268  sq.,  480;  trained 
by  work,  227,  232,  268  sq.,  484, 
489;  trained  in  obedience,  206, 
221,  222,278,  2S8;  their  duties, 
251,  343,  489;  indulged  on 
Saturday,  Sunday,  and  holidays, 
21S,  375,  491;  their  absolute 
renunciation,  219  sq.,  248  sq., 
343>  535;  did  not  endow  the 
monastery  with  their  money, 
219,  220;  clothed  and  fed  by 
the  monastery,  220,  222,  491, 
535;  might  be  dismissed,  220; 
served  a  noviciate,  220;  con- 
fessed to  a  senior,  221,  286,  313, 
314;  had  no  property,  219,  222, 
251,  255-7,  297,  338,  339,  535, 
543;  their  inconsistencies,  223, 
250,  251,  262,  287,  343  sq., 
455,  456,  457,  484,  493,  533; 
their  penances,  211,  216,  223; 
readings  at  meals,  218,  224, 
225;  weekly  share  of  duties, 
224;  their  fasting,  234  sq.,  316 
sq.,  4S9,  507  sq.;  celebration 
of  anniversary,  489;  not  to 
judge  others,  244,  268,  269; 
their  pessimistic  murmurs,  250, 
343;  sowing  discontent,  251, 
273;  combat  dejection,  264  sq., 
540;  uproot  anger,  257  sq.;  aim 
at  perfect  calmness,  259,  297, 
298,  484,  4S9;  also  at  patience 
in  the  heart,  262,  4S4,  49S; 
some  temptations  are  wanting 
in  solitude,  262;  must  guard 
against  Accidie,  266  sq.,  540; 
escape  from  the  monastery,  273; 
combat  pride  and  vainglory, 
275  sq.,  280  sq.,  484,  491,  497; 
avoid  women  and  bishops,  279, 
371,  401;  how  they  deteriorate, 
287,  288,  310,  484,  532;  their 
aim  and  end,  295  sq.,  307  sq. ; 
aim  at  purity  of  heart,  296;  and 
at  discretion,  307  sq. ;  have  three 
vocations,  320  sq.;  must  avoid 
gluttony,    343,    348,    349,   491; 


how  affected  by  eight  faults, 
339  sq.,  348;  are  best  as  ambi- 
dextrous, 356  sq. ;  should  re- 
main in  their  cells,  360,  535; 
instant  in  prayer,  387  sq.,  398; 
teach  the  younger  by  example, 
416,  479;  should  have  patience 
with  a  brother,  455,  456;  silence 
not  patience,  456;  fast  spoiled 
by  anger,  457;  gain  by  relaxa- 
tion, 540;  the  work  best  suited 
for  monks  and  solitaries,  533; 
hindered  by  kindred,  534,  535, 
536,  540;  how  they  began  to 
retire  from  the  world,  4S0-1 ; 
fell  into  heresy  on  the  Godhead, 
187;  their  spiritual  adoption  and 
union,  543-4. 

Montalembert  quoted,  1S8. 

Moral  questions  and  difficulties  dis- 
cussed, 351  sq.,  460  sq.,  468-9, 
519  sq.;  on  the  divine  govern- 
ment, 352-3;  on  blame  and 
merit,  354;  on  moral  weakness, 
519,  520,  525  sq.,  529. 

"More  blessed  to  give  than  to» re- 
ceive," 273. 

Mortification,  discoursed  upon,  186. 

Moses,  abbot  in  Calamus  desert, 
321. 

Moses,  abbot  in  Nitrian  Valley,  187, 
275;  gave  Cassian  and  Ger- 
manus  two  discourses,  187,  275; 
abbot  at  Scete,  293,  295;  ex- 
posed to  temptation,  372;  mas- 
ter in  perfection,  493;  first  Con- 
ference, on  The  goal  and  aim  of 
a  monk,  295  sq.;  second  Confer- 
ence, on  The  grace  of  discretion, 
307  sq. 

Narbonne,  third  Council  of,  209. 

Natural  impulses  useful,  yet  may  be 
sinful,  249. 

Natural  knowledge  of  the  law,  3S4-5. 

Natures  in  Christ,  two  and  perfect, 
554;    not  one  substance,  554. 

Nesteros,  anchorite  and  abbot  in 
Egypt,  184,  416,  435;  received 
Cassian  and  Germanus,  185,  416, 
435;  gave  them  two  discourses, 
185;  first  Conference,  on  Spirit- 
ual Knowledge,  435  sq.;  second 
Conference,  on  Divine  Gifts,  445 

Nestorianism,    its    origin,   -190,    549, 

551,  556,   5S0;   its  heresy,  100, 

552,  553,  556,  56i,. 58o,  581, 
608  sq.;  connected  with  Pelagi- 
anism,  190,  551,  552,  553,  555, 
5S0  sq.,  616;  caused  more  ac- 
curate statements  in  theology, 
399;  refused  to  B.  V.  M.  the  title 
Theotocos,  556  sq.,  580,  581; 
approached  in  Cassian's  lan- 
guage, 564;  was  humanitarian- 
ism,  580,  581,  60S-9;  allowed 
to  Christ  divinity  through  His 
merits,  553  sq.,  561  sq.,  580; 
called  Christ  Theodochos  581, 
608;    its  blasphemy,  610. 

Nestorius,  Bishop  of  Constantinople, 


INDEX    OF    SUBJECTS. 


633 


190,  549>  556>  592.  594;  written 
against  by  Cassian,  183,  1S8, 
189,  190,  195,  399,  549  sq., 
592  sq.,  608—21;  had  belonged 
to  Euprepius'  monastery  at  An- 
tioch,  592;  fell  away  from  the 
truth,  593  sq. ;  belonged  to  An- 
tioch,  594,  620;  presuming  to 
be  bishop,  priest,  and  deacon, 
yet  a  heretic,  596,  597,  600, 
620;  taught  two  Christs,  598-9; 
erred  regarding  the  Trinity,  599; 
summary  of  his  teaching,  619-21 ; 
denounced  by  Cassian  for  im- 
piety and  heresy,  603  sq.,  620- 1. 

Niceea,  council  of,  507;  canons 
moulded  the  creeds,  592. 

Nicholas,  one  of  the  deacons,  author 
of  heresy,  487,  488. 

Nicolaitans,  their  origin  doubtful, 
488. 

Nile  in  Egypt,  frequented  by  the 
monks,  185,  246,416;  its  floods, 

447- 
Nitrian    valley  and    its    monasteries, 

' 186,  352. 
Noah,  transmitter  of  knowledge,  384. 
Nocturnal  illusions  discoursed  upon, 

186. 
Nocturns,  205,  206,  215,  216. 
Nones,  205,  212  sq. 

Oath,  often  rash,  462,  470. 

Obedience  and  subjection,  required 
from  the  coenobite,  185;  to  an- 
cient and  approved  customs, 
202;  absolute,  learned  by  the 
young  monks,  221,  222,  225, 
338;  to  what  perfection,  222, 
225  sq.,  '248;  even  to  God  may 
be  fruitless,  657. 

Offices  at  hours  of  prayer,  214. 

Oil,  the  form  of  blessing,  244;  blessed 
by  contact  with  the  corpse,  372; 
plain,  used  at  the  anchorite 
meals,  375,  491,  492. 

Only  Begotten  was  incarnate,  554. 

Orange,  council  of,  193. 

Ordination  to  the  priesthood,  330. 

Origen,  quoted,  230,  304,  382. 

Pachomius,   rule   of,   218,  219,    220, 

222,  223,  224,  225,  307. 
Psesius,  anchorite  in  Egypt,  243. 
Paget,  quoted,  234. 
Palladius  visited  the  Egyptian  monks, 

186,  226,   243,   246,    275,   314, 

319.  339,  387,  4i6,  479>  5°3- 
Panephysis,  Egyptian  city,  229,  371, 

415,416,497. 
Papa,  the  word  how  used,  199,  293. 
Paphnutius,  surnamed  "  the  Buffalo," 

Egyptian  abbot,    187,  247,  310, 

319  sq.,  449,  486;  his  austerity, 

187,  486;  receives  Cassian  and 
Germanus,  187;  reformed  his 
monastery,  187;  was  of  Scete, 
319,  402,  486;    several  bearing 

1  the  name,  319;  presbyter,  330, 
402,  486;  promoted  Daniel  to 
the  priesthood,  330;  received 
and   read    the    Festal    Letters, 


402;  fought  openly  with  demons, 
449;  admired  in  youth  for  good- 
ness and  grace,  486,  487;  mas- 
ter in  perfection,  493;  how 
accused  of  theft,  486-7;  was  he 
bishop  or  presbyter,  330. 

Paralysis,  case  of,  372. 

Patermucius,  abbot,  227,  228. 

Patriarchs,  the,  desired  to  see  Christ 
and  His  Day,  589,  590. 

Patience  assumes  different  evil  forms, 
455  sq-;  strong  in  yielding, 
458;  how  to  be  gained,  484;  ex- 
amples of,  485,  487,  489. 

Paul,  the  Apostle,  as  a  Christian  ath- 
lete, 239,  240;  advises  against 
Accidie,  268,  269,  270;  taught 
by  example  and  words,  270; 
was  trained  in  his  call,  316;  the 
form  of  his  purification,  468;  his 
apostolic  work,  559,  567;  teach- 
ing of  his  call,  365;  preached 
the  cross,  567. 

Paul,  Egyptian  abbot,  185,  274,  275, 
371,  489;  had  a  large  monastery, 
185;  his  work  annually  burned 
by  himself,  274-5;  originator  of 
Anchoritism,  481. 

Paul  of  Samosata,  592. 

Pearson  quoted,  556. 

Pelagianism,  connected  with  Nes- 
torianism,  190,  552,  555,  580 
sq.;  its  history,  190,  551  sq.; 
its  aim  in  lowering  Christ,  581. 

Pelagians,  285. 

Pelagius,  his  impiety,  581;  taught 
two  Christs  and  was  humanita- 
rian, 598,  616. 

Penance,  monastic,  211,  216,  223, 
486,  502. 

Penitence,  blessed  to  David  and  to 
the  thief,  283;  its  aim,  497  sq.; 
its  modes,  498;  its  fruits,  499  sq. 

Pentecost,  the  term  how  used,  207. 

Pera  of  a  monk,  203. 

Perfect  bliss  aimed  at,  404. 

Perfection,  discoursed  upon,  185, 
232,  234,  295  sq.;  in  and  by 
God,  283,  284,  287,  290,  346, 
423,  525;  its  teachers,  284; 
what  are  only  aids  to,  298,  525; 
how  to  be  reached,  234  sq.,  259 
sq.,  262,  265,  279,  283,  287, 
290,  296,  308,  313,  319,  322, 
345  sq.,  351,  404*  417,  436> 
493)  499  sq,  502,  525;  in  con- 
stant prayer,  387;  what  aimed 
at,  404,  420,  493,  502,  524;  in 
love,  417;  of  different  kinds, 
420;  in  the  work  and  line  begun, 
436,  493;  an  example  in  one 
case,  437;  picture  of,  in  acts 
of  daily  life,  437;  in  teaching 
Scripture  and  doctrine,  444;  in 
yielding  more  than  in  mastering, 
458;  in  patience,  an  example, 
487;  in  only  one  direction  at 
once,  493;  by  forgetfulness  of 
sin,  501;  needs  more  grace, 
525;  through  humility,  525. 

Peter,  the  Apostle,  at  Rome  with 
Simon    Magus,    218;    his   testi- 


mony to  the  Incarnation,  569; 
confesses  the  faith  of  Christ,  570. 

Petitions  in  the  Lord's  Prayer  ex- 
plained, 393  sq. 

Phantasm,  charged  of  Christ,  583, 
584,  590,  594- 

Piamun,  abbot  in  Egypt,  18S,  246, 
469,  479;  hid  his  abstinence, 
469;  his  character  and  position, 
479;  conference  on  three  sorts 
of  monks,  479  sq. 

Pinufius,  Egyptian  abbot  and  priest, 
185,  228  sq.,  496  sq.;  his  ex- 
treme humility,  228  sq.,  496-7; 
fled  to  the  Thebaid,  then  to 
Palestine,  229,  497;  conference 
on  the  End  of  penitence  and  the 
Marks  of  satisfaction,  496  sq.; 
on  renunciants,  229,  496;  sketch 
of  his  life,  496-7. 

Pious  frauds,  465,  466;  attributed  to 
Apostles,  467,  468. 

Plani,  devils,  374. 

Pliny  quoted,  304. 

Poisons  given  in  honey,  607,  608. 

Possessed,  those,  with  unclean  spirits, 
370  sq.,  487;  not  to  be  despised, 
372>  373!  debarred  from  the 
Holy  Communion,  372;  question 
of  their  exclusion  discussed, 
373;  cleansed,  487. 

Poverty,  monastic,  219  sq.,  248  sq. 
338  sq.,  535  sq. 

Prayer,  discoursed  upon,  187,  207 
sq-j  331  >  387  ?q-,  405  ;.in  prostra- 
tion, 208,  507;  collecting  prayer, 
208,  484;  canonical  prayers, 
208,  210,  400;  conciseness  and 
silence  in,  209,  210,400;  mixed 
with  psalm-singing,  209,  408, 
461;  suspense  from,  as  a  pen- 
ance, 211,  212;  fixed  time  for, 
in  monastery,  212,  507;  self- 
collectedness  in,  209,  331,  388, 
405  sq.,  408;  the  road  to  per- 
fection, 387  sq.,  405  sq.;  pure 
and  sincere,  388,  405  sq.; 
strictly  in  private,  400;  different 
characters  of,  390;  fourfold 
nature  of,  391-2;  method  of  con- 
tinual, 405  sq.;  with  standing  at 
certain  seasons,  507;  daily  and 
at  fixed  hours,  214,  422,  437, 
445;  as  being  heard,  398  sq. ; 
conditions  of  an  answer,  398  sq., 
405;  proper  kinds,  392,  405;  to 
God  alone,  391,  405  sq. 

Predestination  and  Freewill,  190-1. 

Pride,  combated  by  a  monk,  275  sq., 
280  sq.,  339;  its  forms  many,  275 
sq.,  280  sq.,  2S7;  solitude  no 
protection,  276;  destructive  to 
virtues,  280  sq.,  290;  as  in  Luci- 
fer, 281;  destroyed  by  humility, 
282  sq.,  287,  290,  350;  exam- 
ples. 286,  289;  carnal,  2S7,  289; 
spiritual,  287,  342;  its  fruits, 
288  sq. ;  remedies  against,  290, 
342;    satanic  suggestion,  374. 

Priesthood  and  diaconate,  278,  286, 
293i  33°;  their  dignity  sacrificed 
by  Nestorius,  594-7,  600. 


634 


JOHN   CASSIAN. 


Froculus,  Bishop  of  Marseilles,  552. 

Property  in  monastery  is  common, 
202,  205. 

Prophets,  as  witnesses  for  Christ, 
5.57  sq.,  578-9».  583,  589;  de- 
siring to  see  Christ  and  His  day, 

589- 
Prosper    of    Aquitaine   quoted,    184, 

474- 
Protection  by  God,  discoursed  upon, 

185. 

Psalms,  sung  by  the  monks,  205,  225, 
408,  409;  fixed  at  twelve,  206, 
207,  210;  the  order,  205  sq. ;  by 
the  priest  alone  chanting,  209; 
sung  in  sections,  209,  210;  divi- 
ded by  prayers,  209,408;  modes 
of  singing,  217;  arrangements 
at  Lauds,  Prime,  and  Matins,  216, 
217. 

Ptolemy  quoted,  436. 

Purity  of  heart  aimed  at,  296  sq.,  340, 
346,  361  sq. ;  the  measure  of  our 
heavenly  vision,  403. 

Quadragesima,  513,  514. 

Quinquagesima  from  Easter  to  Pente- 
cost, 212,  447,  503;  relaxation 
during  the  season,  503  sq. 

Rahab's  action  at  Jericho,  465. 

Rawlinson  quoted,  436. 

Recantation  of  Leporius,  552—3. 

Relaxation,  useful  to  a  monk,  540; 
at  Quinquagesima  season,  503  sq. 

Relics  of  Martyrs,  251,  252. 

Remoboth,  monks  mentioned  by  S. 
Jerome,  482. 

Renunciants  of  Tabenna,  219  sq.; 
their  discipline,  219  sq.,  469; 
their' novitiate,  220,  231. 

Renunciation,  discoursed  upon,  187, 
206,  230  sq.,  248  sq.,  532  sq.; 
by  the  monks,  206,  219  sq.,  248 
sq.,  256,  338;  must  be  complete, 
219  sq.,  251,  252,  253,  256, 
287,  297,  322,  338,  342,  439, 
505,  532;  by  the  apostles  and 
primitive  church,  253  sq.,  486; 
only  an  aid  to  perfection,  298, 
322,  439;  threefold,  320,  321, 
338;  Scripture  examples,  322-3, 
505;  by  the  Coenobites,  480;  its 
recompense,  543,  544,  545;  of 
the   soul's   possession    of    sins, 

323-4- 

Repentance,  266. 

Resurrection,  a  birth  and  regenera- 
tion, 5855  His  "abinferis"  not 
to  be  denied,  600,  O03. 

Revelations,  satanic  and  false,   310, 

3"- 

Riches  of  different  kinds,  324;  their 
renunciation,  324  sq. 

Righteousness,  divine  and  human, 
521  sq. 

Robe  of  a  monk,  ^02. 

Rope  dancers,  524. 

Rufinus  teaches  the  Incarnation,  618; 
quoted,  186,  226,  243,  246,  248, 
3M»  319.  339.  446,  479.  4S6, 
503.  551,  578,  592,  607. 


Rule,  the  Catholic,  202;  monastic,  to 
be  adapted  to  cases,  204. 

Sabbath  (Saturday),  exempted  from 
fasting,  212,  217,  218,  513;  a 
feast  with  Sunday,  217,  513;  at 
Rome  a  fast,  218. 

Sabbatier  quoted,  202,  25S. 

Sabellianism,  form  of,  taught  by  Pho- 
tinus,  552;  the  heresy,  593. 

Sabellians,  551. 

Sackcloth  not  a  monk's  robe,  202. 

Sacrament  (mysterium),  303. 

Sacramentum    explained,    204,     214, 

574- 

Saints,  how  far  different  from  Christ, 
582,  587,  590,  594. 

Salt-fish  used  by  the  monks,  226. 

Sandals  of  a  monk,  204. 

Sarabaites,  an  order  of  monks,  185, 
480;  "  detested  and  execrable," 
482;  painted  by  Cassian  in  dark- 
est colours,  4S0;  broke  off  from 
the  Coenobites,  482. 

Saraceni,  their  slaughter  of  monks, 
1S7,  351  sq. 

Satan,  the  devil,  tempter  of  the 
monks,  210,  304  sq.,  312  sq., 
331,  365;    perverting   Scripture, 

305,  306,  612;  appeared,  306, 
310,  311;  cast  out  of  a  monk, 
312-3;  a  fallen  spirit,  335,  377 
sq.;  forced  to  acknowledge 
Christ's  divinity,  610-2;  feared 
Christ,  614;  his  motive  for  tempt- 
ing Christ,  610  sq.;  tried  to 
defeat  human  redemption,  61 1, 
612. 

Satisfaction     for     sin,     and     pardon, 

496  sq. 
Saturday   and   Sunday   services,  213, 

319,  513- 

Saviour,  a  title  belonging  to  Christ, 
580. 

Scapular  of  the  monks,  205. 

Scete,  in  the  Egyptian  desert,  185, 
186,  278,  293,  294,  319,  330, 
352,  416,  533;  date  of  Cassian's 
visit  uncertain,  186,  187,  188. 

Scripture,  how  read  by  the  monks, 
206,  207;  its  senses,  260,  377, 
437,  440;  perverted  for  a  pur- 
pose, 273,  329,  464,  611,  616; 
misunderstood    and    misapplied, 

306,  310,  329,  354,  443,  444, 
611;  its  variety,  376,  440,  464 
sq.;  its  true  knowledge,  how  to 
be  attained,  438,  439,  443,  464; 
manifold  meanings,  440,  61 1; 
meaning  hid  from  the  ungodly 
mind,  443,  444,  464;  its  econ- 
omy, 464  sq. ;  used  as  a  cloak  to 
heresy,  608;  its  testimony  to 
truth  of  doctrine,  569  sq.;  fear 
of  perversion  does  not  close 
Scripture,  464  sq. 

Scythia,    named    as  Cassian's   birth- 
place, 183. 
Secundinus,    Bishop    of    Megarmita, 

555- 

Seluciani,  302. 

Semi-Pelagianism,     190,     191,     193, 


283,  422;  in  Cassian's  writings, 
190  sq.,  422  sq. 

Serapion,  Egyptian  ascetic,  187,  339, 
484;  discoursed  with  Cassian 
and  Germanus,  187,  339  sq.; 
was  educated  under  Abbot  The- 
onas,  312,  339;  his  anecdote 
about  himself,  312,  484;  became 
anthropomorphite,  402;  several 
of  the  same  name,  339. 

Serapion  of  Arsinoe,  abbot  of  icco 
monks,  339. 

Serenus,  Egyptian  abbot,  187,  375; 
discoursed  to  Cassian  and  Ger- 
manus, 187,  361  sq.,  375  sq.; 
first  Conference,  on  Inconstancy 
of  Mind  and  Spiritual  wicked- 
ness, 361  sq.;  second  Confer- 
ence, on  Principalities,  375  sq. 

Seth  and  his  seed  as  God's  elect,  383 
sq.;  had  knowledge  from  Adam, 
383,384;  naturally  had  complete 
knowledge  of  the  law,  384. 

Sickness  cured,  445,  446. 

Silence,  general,  at  meals,  224;  at 
psalm-singing,  209;  in  the  cells, 
460. 

Simeon,  expert  copyist,  friend  of 
Cassian,  247. 

Sin,  its  nature,  524  sq.;  as  a  present 
power,  517,  518,  522,  523  sq., 
552;  present  in  the  best,  523, 
527,  530;  the  body  of,  528; 
present  even  in  prayer,  530; 
brought  on  man  by  the  Fall, 
525-6;  in  Adam's  transgression 
our  heritage,  525  sq.;  grace  frees 
from  the  law  of  sin,  528;  sin  as 
a  natural  law,  527;  law  of  sin 
is  obedience  to  it,  528;  if  man 
can  be  sinless,  552. 

Sins,  different  kinds  of,  252,  347; 
corresponding  to  the  Seven  Na- 
tions of  Palestine,  347;  cr  to 
Eight,  348;  or  to  Ten,  349; 
blind  the  eyes  to  sinfulness, 
523;  how  to  be  shunned  and 
overcome,  417-8;  how  forgiven, 
496  sq.;  worse  than  devils,  371. 

Sitting  at  psalm-singing  in  Egypt, 
207,  210;  an  indulgence  in  the 
West,  216;  sitting  in  their  order 
at  meals,  224. 

Sixtus,  Roman  priest,  friend  of  S. 
Augustine,  190. 

Slanders  by  the  heretics,  603  sq. 

Smith  and  Cheetham,  D.  C.  A.,  194, 
203,    208,   217,   241,    401,   482, 

5°3>  515- 
Smith  and  Wace,  D.  C.  B.,  183,  186, 

387.  552. 
Socrates,  story  about,  424. 
Socrates    (Hist.)    quoted,    217,   248, 

486,  556,  620. 
Sodom  sinned    in   fulness  of   bread, 

235. 
Solitude,  excludes  some  temptations, 
262,  493  sq. ;  cannot  have  others, 
262;  has  its  own,  262.  362,  493 
sq-..533>  539.  540;  no  protection 
against  pride,  276,  277;  resorted 
to  by  the  monks,  262,  319,  362, 


INDEX    OF    SUBJECTS. 


635 


404,  491,  493, 533,  539,  540; 

its  advantages,   491,   493,    533; 
can    show   faults    to    the    monk 
himself,  494. 
"  Sons  of  God  "  as  the  seed  of  Seth, 

383-    . 
Soul,  its  aim  and  perfect  bliss,  404; 

subject  to  the  law  and  body  of 
sin,  523  sq.;  its  powers  three- 
fold, 538-9  ;  how  to  be  healed  of 
its  faults,  538;  how  weighed 
down,  338,  523  sq.;  how  re- 
lated to  evil  spirits,  366  sq.,  382, 
3S8;  how  tempted,  538;  not 
incorporeal,  367;  its  threefold 
condition,  336  sq.;  ideas  regard- 
ing, 302,  366,  382. 

Sozomen  quoted,  186,  202,  207,  219, 
220,  226,  248,  274,  275,  352, 
401,  446,  479,486,  513. 

Spiritual  persons  in  dispute,  453. 

Spiritual  wickedness,  its  malignity, 
335;  knowledge  neither  received 
nor  given  by  the  unclean,  437, 
442;    teaching    often   unfruitful, 

445- 

Staff  of  monks,  203. 

Stations,  241,  243. 

Strangers,  entertained,  219,  220,  229, 
242,  243,  245,  246,  27S,  295, 
310,  375,  415,  416,  422,  450, 
461,  479,  485,  489,  491,  497. 

Substance  true  of  God  and  man,  556 
sq.,  577  sq.,  606-7. 

Suicides,  310. 

Sun  of  Righteousness,  260. 

Sunday,  a  feast,  212,  217,  218;  its 
services,  218,  486;  its  observ- 
ance, 375;  for  Holy  Commun- 
ion, 486. 

Supersubstantial  bread,  394. 

Supplications    of    four    kinds,    391, 

393- 
Symbole,  a  collection,  592. 
Symboli,  traditio,  explained,  597. 
Symbolum,    a   creed   or  watchword, 

592. 
Synaxis,  209. 
Syncletius    spoiled   and  not   made    a 

monk,  254. 
Synecdoche,  a  common   figure,  602, 

603. 

Tabenna,  its  position  and  monastery, 
219,  497;    its  discipline,  219. 

Talking  gossip  forbidden  to  the 
monks,  209,  211,  224,  269. 

Tatham  quoted,  1S6. 

Tears,  their  value  in  bringing  convic- 
tion, 397. 

Temptation  of  Christ  by  Satan,  340 
sq.,  610. 

Tertullian  quoted,  225,  346,  440, 
468,515,551,587. 

Testaments,  why  called  instruments, 
440. 

Tests  of  obedience,   222,  225,  226, 


227,  22S,  230,  430,  484,  485, 
541;  of  renunciation,  206,  219 
sq.,  227,  228,  230,  541. 

Thanksgiving,  392. 

Thebaid,  415. 

The'nnesus,  town  described,  415- 

Theodochos,  Nestorian  title  for 
Christ,  581,  582,  608,  609. 

Theodore,  abbot  of  Tabenna  and 
friend   of   Pachomius,  245. 

Theodore,  abbot  in  Egypt,  187,  351, 
352;  at  Cellae,  352;  consulted 
on  a  point  of  the  divine  govern- 
ment, 351  sq. 

Theodore,  Abbot,  245,  351. 

Theodore,  "  brother  "  at  Marseilles, 
189,  477. 

Theodoret  quoted,  226,  401,  48S. 

Theodoret,  abbot  in  Egypt,  185,  312, 
503;  visited  by  Cassian  and 
Germanus,  185;  had  been  mar- 
ried, 185,  503;  left  his  wife  for 
the  desert,  506-7;  chosen  abbot 
of  the  monastery,  507  ;  first  Con- 
ference, on  The  Relaxation  dur- 
ing the  Fifty  Days,  503  sq.; 
third  Conference,  on  Sinlessness, 
519  sq. 

Theophilus,  Bishop  of  Alexandria, 
his  Festal  Letters,  187,  188,  401 ; 
succeeded  Timothy,  401. 

Theophylact  quoted,  302. 

Theotocos,  inveighed  against,  190, 
556,  581;  how  different  from 
Christotocos,  and  true  of  B.  V. 
M.,  119,  556,  557,  559,  560, 
570,  581,  618,  620. 

Therapeutae,  186. 

Thomas,  Apostle,  his  confession,  571. 

Thomas    Aquinas    quoted,   234,  373, 

554- 

Thoughts,  changeable,  303,  362,  387 
sq.,  408,  441,  534;  can  be  di- 
rected, 303  sq.,  365,  388  sq., 
405  sq.;  their  origin,  304,  362 
sq.,  390,  441  ;  care  of,  363, 
365,  389,  408,  409,  534;  why 
so    vanishing,     390,    408,    409, 

534- 

"Three  days"  counted  by  Synec- 
doche, 603. 

Tierce  service,  205,  212  sq.,  218. 

Tillemont  quoted,  553. 

Time  no  question  in  the  Incarnation, 
603,  606. 

Timothy,  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  401. 

Tithes,  given  to  a  monastery,  503  sq., 

.    506;    their  law  considered,   503 

sq.,  513,  517;    Christian  as  well 

as  Jewish,   504,   505,   506,  516, 

517.  —  Lent    a    tithe  of    time, 

5*3- 

Traditio  symboli,  597. 

Trinity,  Holy,  errors  upon,  by  Ebion, 
551;  by  Eunomius,  552;  by 
Arius,  551;  by  Macedonius, 
552;  by  Photinus,  552;   by  Nes- 


torius,  599;  present  in  the  Con- 
ception, 557,  613;  present  in 
every  work  of  Christ,  613  sq.; 
its  unity  denied  by  Macedonius, 
552. 

Truth,  must  it  always  be  told,  464 
sq.,  468-9;  gains  by  thorough 
ventilation,  555;  has  fixed  au- 
thority and  use,  555. 

Tunic  of  the  monk,  203. 

Two  hearts  in  one  body,  295. 

Uzziah,  an  example  of  vainglory, 
277. 

Vainglory,  to  be  combated,  275  sq., 
306,  339,  346;  carnal  and  spiri- 
tual, 275,  342,  351;  assumes 
many  forms,  275,  278,  344; 
dangerous  when  mixed  with  vir- 
tue, 277,351;  examples  in  Scrip- 
ture, 277,  346;  examples  in 
monks,  277;  remedies  for,  279, 
306,  342,  346;  of  two  main 
kinds,  344;  none  in  miraculous 
powers,  446  sq.;  none  in  using 
oil  at  meals,  375,  491. 

Venerius,  Bishop  of  Marseilles,  192. 

Vespers  service,  214. 

Vices,  their  range  and  results,  280. 

Victor,  Bishop  of  Martyrites,  194. 

Vigilia,  its  office,  216,  217;  its  indul- 
gence, 217. 

Vigils  to  festivals,  217;  sleepless, 
460. 

Vincentius  Lirinensis  quoted,  556. 

Virgil  quoted,  607. 

Vocations,  three  to  a  monk,  320  sq., 
328;    Scripture  examples,  320. 

Washing  the  monks'  feet,  225. 

Wednesday  and  Friday  fasts,  241, 
242. 

Weekly  share  of  duty,  224,  225;  of- 
ficers or  Hebdomadarii,  225. 

West,  few  monasteries  in,  and  why, 
274. 

Westcott  quoted,  304,  587. 

Why  does  God  allow  the  just  to  suf- 
fer, 352. 

Widows,  584,  585. 

Wife  forsaken  for  greater  austerity, 
506, 

Wine  from  water  in  Galilee,  605. 

Women,  avoided  by  monks,  251, 
279,  371;  invaluable  as  nurses, 
372,  485- 
Word  of  God  truly  Incarnate,  554- 

Works  means  of  blessing,  268  sq.; 
necessary  to  a  monk,  536- 

World,  three  kinds  of  things  in, 
352  sq. 

Yoke  of  Christ,  how  easy  and  light, 
541,  542,  543. 

Zeal  in  serving  and  in  labour,  225. 


636 


JOHN   CASSIAN. 


INDEX  OF  TEXTS. 


PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

Gen.  i.  26  .     . 

•  402,   403 

Numb.  xv.  32  . 

•     359 

2  Kings  xx.  1-6    .     .     471 

Ps.  xxiv.  4 

•        326 

i.  28     .     . 

.         .        466 

xviii.  26    . 

•     503 

2  Chr.  iii.  5 

3°4 

xxiv.  5 

•        326 

i.  31     .     . 

377,  52i 

xxiv.    . 

•     •     539 

vi.  30  .      . 

367 

xxiv.  18    .       499,  500 

ii.  18    .     . 

•   .   507 

Deut.  iv.  26     . 

•     5o5 

xxiv.  17,  18 

286 

xxv.  2  .      .       358,  495 

iii.  1     . 

•     379 

vi.  4     . 

385,  435 

xxiv.  23-25 

286 

xxv.  8  . 

•     534 

iii.  5     .    341, 

342,  3g6 

vi.  4,  s     . 

■     •     376 

xxvi.  15,  16 

278 

XXX.    10 

•     257 

iii.  15  .     . 

231,  255 

vi.  7     . 

.     .     407 

xxxii.  24-26 

277 

xxxi.  5     499  (bis)  500 

iii.  17,  19  . 

•     525 

vii.  1-3     . 

329,  347 

Esth.  vi.  1,  sq. 

3°4 

xxxi.  6 

•     499 

iii.  22  . 

.     428 

vii.  21-23 

■     •     346 

Job  i.  9,  10 

332 

xxxi.  10    . 

•     358 

iv.  4     . 

•     385 

viii.  2  . 

•     •     357 

i.  9-1 1 

43i 

xxxii.  5 

•     512 

iv.  7     . 

•     S12 

viii.  3   .      . 

.     .     384 

i.  21     . 

357 

xxxii.  9     . 

•     555 

iv.  17-21  . 

.  383 

viii.  12-15 

.     .     346 

ii.  6     . 

366 

xxxii.  15  . 

•     367 

v.  4-30      . 

.  383 

ix.  4,  5      . 

•     •     346 

ii.  10    . 

357 

xxxiii.  7    . 

•     324 

V.  22     .       . 

.  385 

xiii.  1-3    . 

43i»  446 

iii.  23  . 

354 

xxxiii.  8    . 

•     381 

v.  24    .      . 

.    322 

xvi.  9  . 

•     5" 

v.  2 

242 

xxxiii.  9    .        528,  543 

vi.  2     . 

•  383 

xx.  8    . 

•     252 

v.  7      . 

365 

xxxiii.  10.       41 

9,  421 

vi.  3     .      . 

•     333 

xxiii.  7 

•     348 

v.  18    . 

315 

xxxiii.  11. 

•    324 

vii.  2    . 

•     •     385 

xxvii.  26  . 

•     505 

v.  23    . 

265 

xxxiii.  14  . 

•    427 

viii.  21 

•     5i9 

xxviii.  23  . 

•     423 

x.  10,  II 

386 

xxxiii.  19 

•     357 

ix.  23  .      . 

•     385 

xxxii.  7 

•     3i6 

xv.  14,  15 

360 

xxxiii.  23  . 

.     416 

xii.  1    .    320, 

321,  32S 

xxxii.  12  . 

•     584 

xv.  15  . 

524 

xxxiii.  32  . 

•     353 

xiv.  20,  22 

•     385 

xxxii.  17  . 

•     457 

xxiv.  21 

5i6 

xxxiv.  2-4 

•     285 

xiv.  22,  23 

•     504 

xxxii.  21   . 

.     489 

xxv.  5  . 

524 

xxxiv.  8    . 

•     369 

xv.  13  .      . 

.     601 

xxxii.  24  . 

•     358 

xxviii.  15 

3°4 

xxxiv.  10 . 

•     522 

xv.  18-21 

•     349 

xxxii.  31    . 

.     368 

xxix.  15 

356 

xxxiv.  26 

•     369 

xviii.    . 

•     385 

xxxii.  32,  33 

•     389 

xxix.  17 

522 

xxxv.  I,  2 

.     281 

xix. 

•     385 

Josh.  v.  16  .     . 

.     204 

xxxi.  24 

3°4 

xxxv.  7 

•    376 

xix.  2,  3    . 

•     47o 

vii. 

•     305 

xxxviii.  7 

377 

xxxv.  12   . 

.    406 

xxii.  1 

•     43i 

Judg.  ii.  22 

•     432 

xxxix.  5~£ 

482 

xxxvi.  16  . 

•    537 

xxii.  12 

•     43i 

iii.  I,  2     . 

•     432 

xl.  3     . 

357 

xxxvi.  23,  24 

•     326 

xxxii.  30  . 

.     607 

iii.  1-4 

•     332 

xl.  16  . 

34° 

xxxvii.  6  . 

•    324 

xxxvii.  4  . 

454,  488 

iii.  9    . 

320,  578 

Ps.  i.  2  .     . 

422 

xxxvii.  14,  15 

■    232 

xl.  7     .      . 

.     461 

iii.  15  .     . 

356,  578 

ii.    II    . 

420 

xxxvii.  19 

•    499 

xlii.  9,  16 

•     47o 

I  Sam.  ii.  6,  7. 

•     3i5 

iv.  5     . 

.  259,  260 

xxxviii.  2,  3   . 

•     233 

xlii.  21 

•     47o 

ii.  9      .     . 

•     327 

v.  7      . 

.464,  466 

xxxviii.  13 

322 

xiv.  5-8   . 

.     428 

ii.  30   .     . 

•     54° 

v.  9      . 

.     .     426 

xxxix.  2    . 

43° 

1.  19,  20  . 

.     428 

xv. 

•     3°9 

vi.  2 

.     .     258 

xxxix.  3    . 

326 

Exod.  iii.  2 

•     557 

xv.  11,  35 

•     472 

vi.  6     . 

.     .     301 

xxxix.  9    . 

399 

iii.  5     .     . 

.     204 

xxi.  1,  2,  8,  ] 

3  •     465 

v|.  7     -3 

97, 

499,  500 

xxxix.  15  (bis) 

369 

iii.  14  .     .     . 

•     584 

xxii.  7-10 

.     468 

vi.  9 

.326,  500 

xxxix.  17  . 

407 

iv.  13  .     . 

•     572 

xxiv.  7 

.     466 

vii.  17  . 

•     •     369 

xii.  4    .     .      . 

499 

v.  2      .     . 

.     282 

xxv.  22,  34 

•     47° 

viii. 5    . 

.     601 

xlii.  9  .     .     . 

365 

v.  8,  9      • 

•     5i5 

2  Sam.  v.  1       . 

•     333 

ix.  9 

•     369 

xliii  4,  5    .      . 

285 

vii.  1    . 

.     561 

xii.  13 

283,  430 

xi.  7     . 

.     444 

xliii.  6-8  .     . 

285 

viii.  21 

•     364 

xiv.  14 

•     425 

xii.  3    . 

•     397 

xliii.  22     . 

367 

xvi.  3  .      . 

•    323 

xvi.  10-12 

.     260 

xii.  4   .    3 

69, 

397,  429 

xliii.  23     . 

258 

xx.  4-17   . 

•     3S5 

xvii.  14     . 

.     466 

xii.  5    . 

•     369 

xliii.  25     . 

282 

xx.  14  .      . 

•    44o 

xvii.  20 

.     466 

xiii.  4  . 

.     618 

xliv.  11     . 

321 

xxi.  24 

504.  5*6 

xxiii.  17    . 

.     260 

xiv.  5   . 

•     444 

xliv.  12     . 

324 

xxii.  21,  27 

•     398 

I  Kings  iii.  24-27 

•     47o 

xv.  10 . 

.     214 

xliv.  17 

593 

xxii.  29, 

iv.  29  . 

199,  460 

xvi.  4  . 

223,  541 

xiv.  7  .     .     .     . 

581 

505. 

513,  5i6 

vii.  13 

.     199 

xvi.  5  .     . 

326,  426 

xlvi.  6       .     .     . 

614 

xxiii.    7     . 

.     466 

viii.  17-^-19 

.    429 

xvii.  2-4 

.     .     2S5 

xlviii.  8     . 

587 

xxxii.  31,  32 

•     394 

viii.  58 

.    427 

xvii.  20  sqq  .       .     285 

xlix.  3       .       58 

8,  607 

xxxii.  31-33 

•     472 

xi.  2     . 

•     384 

xvii.  33  sq      .     .     285 

xlix.  15     ... 

428 

xxxiii.  13 

•     587 

xiii.  22 

•     359 

xvii.  35     .     . 

•     285 

xlix.  16 

443 

xxxiii.  20  . 

•     303 

xiii.  26 

•     37i 

xvii.  38,  39    . 

•     3% 

xlix.  23     . 

400 

xxxiv.  16  . 

•     384 

XX. 

•     3°9 

xvii.  40,  41    . 

•     285 

1-5       •     •       49 

9,  500 

Lev.  xviii.  5 

•     5°4 

xx.  31,  32,  4 

2    •     539 

xviii.  11    . 

.     442 

1.  6      .... 

500 

xviii.  7 

•     385 

xxi.  21-24 

•     359 

xviii.  13    . 

502,  529 

1.  12,  9     .     .     . 

427 

xix.  17,  18 

.     262 

xxii.  22     . 

xviii.  14 

•     502 

1.  19,  21    .     .     . 

400 

xix.  36 

.     512 

304, 

374,  539 

xxi.  2  . 

•     393 

Ii.  6-9       ... 

281 

xxi.  12 

.     440 

2  Kings  i.  1-8 

.     201 

xxi.  1 1 

.     581 

Ii.  7      •     •     •     • 

468 

Numb.  v.  9,  10 

•     5°3 

iv.  29  . 

•     •     203 

xxiii.  7 

.     615 

Iii.  6    .     .     .     . 

279 

xi.  5     •     • 

•     323 

vi.  30  .     . 

.     .     202 

xxiii.  35 

•     536 

liii.  6  .     .     .     . 

278 

xi.  18  .     . 

•     •    323 

XX.          . 

•     •    277 

xxiv.  1-3 

• 

369 

liii.  8   .     .     .     . 

213 

INDEX    OF    TEXTS. 


637 


Ps.   liv.    13-15 
liv.  22 
lviii.  1 1 
lx.  2     . 
lxi.  5    . 
lxi.    10 
lxii.  2,  7 
lxii.  9  . 
lxv.  12 
lxv.  15 
lxvii.    7 
lxvii.  29 


284, 


•  457 

•  456 
426,  429 

•  234 
.  204 

•  512 
.  214 
.  240 

•  234 
.  400 

•  451 

327,  428 

•  430 


lxviii.  4 
lxxviii.  20 
lxviii.  29 
Ixix.  2 
lxxi.  28 
lxxii.  2-5 
lxxii.  5 
lxxii.  28 
lxxiii.  19 
lxxiii.  21 
Ixxvi.  5 
lxxvi.  6,  7 
lxxvii.   34,  35 
lxxix.  2 
lxxx.  7 
lxxx.   IO 
lxxx.    12, 

lxxx.  15 
lxxxi.  6 
lxxxi.  7 
lxxxii.  19 
lxxxiii.  6 
lxxxiii.  8 
lxxxiv.  9 
lxxxiv.  12 
lxxxvii.  10 
lxxxvii.  14 
lxxvii.  65 
lxxxix.  17 
xc.  5    .     . 
xc.  6    . 
xc.  7    . 

XC.    II,    12 

xc.  13        ... 

374,  602,  610 


83 

•  472 

•  405 

•  365 
■     373 

•  358 

•  522 
204,  346 

324,  407 
459 
304 
321 


357 
585 
13  (bis)  329 

•  329 
383,  56i 
378,  383 

•  581 

•  363 
.     420 

•  304 

•  581 

•  429 
429,  574 

•  258 
284,  428 

•  374 
266,  374 

•  348 

•  305 


xcm.  10  . 

xciii.  II  . 

xciii.  17  . 

xciii.  18  . 

xciii.  19  . 
xciii.  17-19 

xcviii.  4  . 
c.  1,  2 

ci.  1      .  . 

ci.  7,  8  . 

ci.  10  .  . 

ci.  27,  28  . 
ciii.  15 


326,  427 

304 
326,  419 

•  •  326 

•  •  326 

•  •  285 
.  .  512 

281,  439 

•  •  397 
282  (bis) 

482,  493 

397>  5°? 
360,  521 


309, 

444,  525 

ciii.  18 

40S 

cm.  21 

369 

civ.  16,  17 

428 

cv.  40  . 

258 

cvi.  2,  4-6 

482 

cvi.  19 

321 

cvi.  20 

573 

cvi.  33  sq. 

416 

Ps.  cviii.  6 
cviii.  24 
cix.  5,  6 
ex.  10  . 
cxi.  2,  3 
cxi.  10 
cxiii.  17,  18 
cxiv.  7,  8,  9 
cxiv.  7 
cxv.  4  . 
cxv.  6  . 
cxv.  7,  8  . 
cxv.  16,  17 

cxvii.  6 
cxvii.  13  . 
cxvii.  14  . 
cxvii.  27  . 
cxviii.  1,  2 
cxviii.  8  . 
cxviii.  11  . 
cxviii.  18  . 
cxviii.  19  . 
cxviii.  28  . 
cxviii.  31  . 
cxviii.  32  . 
cxviii.  36  . 
cxviii.  60  . 
cxviii.  71  . 
cxviii.  73  . 
cxviii.  104 
cxviii.  106 
cxviii.  108 
cxviii.  112 


427, 

284, 
284, 


214, 


234, 


419, 


cxviii.  120 
cxviii.  125 
cxviii.  147,  148 

214,  429, 
cxviii.  164 
cxviii.  165 


cxviii.  166 
cxix.  1 
cxix.  62 
exxvi.  1 
exxvi.  2 
exxvii.  1 
exxviii.  8 
exxx.  1,  2 
exxx.  1,  2 
exxx.  4 
exxxii.  1 
exxxii.  2 
exxxviii.  23,  24 
exxxix.  10 
cxi.  2   . 
cxi.  3  . 
cxli.  4  . 
cxlii.  2 
cxliii.  5 
cxliii.  10 
cxliv.  16 
cxiv.  2 
cxiv.  8 
cxlvii.  12 
cl.  6     . 
Prov.  ii.  20 
iii.  9     . 
iii.  10  . 
iv.  23  . 


265, 


282 


264, 


214: 


397: 


5°3> 


382 
500 

397 
421 

324 
233 
301 

327 
427 

39i 

353 
419 

499 
601 
326 
327 
578 
443 
332 
444 
326 
322 
267 

365 
459 
427 
495 
332 
586 
439 
472 
213 

427 
230 
327 

5H 
215 

355 
43° 
398 
215 
427 
282 
420 
501 
281 
203 
258 
45i 
442 
495 
369 
400 
427 
276 
529 
587 
326 

327 
532 
427 
438 
301 
542 
512 
503 
427 


Prov.  iv.  26 
iv.  27  . 
v.  15,  16 
v.  22    . 


499 


vm.  13 
ix.  1 
ix.  10 
ix.  18 
x.  4 
x.   12 
xi.  14 
xi.  15 
xi.  22 
xi.  25 
xii.  5 
xii.  9 
xii.  10 
xii.  16 
xii.  2S 
xiii.  4  . 
xiii.  7  . 
xiii.  8  . 
xiii.  17 
xiv.  6  . 


xiv 
xiv 
xiv 


7  • 
17 

23 


3^5 


xiv.  26 
xiv.  29 
xiv.  33 

XV.    I 

xv.  19 
xv.  27 
xv;  33 
xvi.  4 
xvi.  5 
xvi.  18 
xvi.  25 
xvi.  26 
xvi.  32 
xvii.  3  . 
xvii.  6  . 
xvii.  16 
xvii.  28 
xviii.  2 
xviii.  17 
xix.  3  . 
xix.  7  . 
xix.  9  . 
xix.  10 
xx.  9    . 
xx.  10,  11 
xx.  13  . 
xx.  17. 
xx.  23 . 
xxi.  13 
xxi.  25 
xxi.  30 
xxi.  31 
xxii.  5 
xxii.  20 
xxiii.  1,2 
xxiii.  9 
xxiii.  21 
xxiii.  33-35 
xxiii.  35 
xxiv.  3,  4 
xxiv.  11 
xxiv.  15 


52 


305 


PAGE 
426 
276 

442 

5,  642 
416 
611 
232 
501 
448 
453 
309 
306 

443 
257 
304 
538 
419 

459 
262 

274.  532 
538 
324 
419 
368 
355 
257 

444,  545 
545 

459,  485 
444 
257 

274,  542 
500 
443 
417 
1,286 
361 

3°5,  501 
365 
485 

37i 

544 
443 
333 
444 
484 
543 
363 
525 
444 
529 
512 
242,  347 
466 
512 
419 
532 
368 

327 
542 
438 
3°7 
444 
273 
5°i 
524 
309 
315,466 

•     444 


28 


30 


Prov.  xxiv.  16 
xxiv.  17,  1 
xxv.  8  . 
xxv.  14 
xxv.  20 
xxv.  28 
xxvi.  1 1 
xxvi.  22 
xxvi.  25 
xxvi.  27 
xxvii.  4 
xxvii.  15 
xxviii.  19 
xxix.  5 
xxix.  11 
xxix.  19 
xxix.  20 
xxix.  22 
xxx.  26 
xxxi.  3 
xxxi.  6,  7 
xxxi.  21 
xxxi.  25 

Eccl.  i.  9,  10 
iii.  . 
iii.  14 
iv.  6 

v.  3 
v.  4 
vii.  9 
vii.  10 
vii.  21 
vii.  25 
vii.  29 
viii.  11 
ix.  11 
x.  2 
x.  4 

X.    II 

x.  15 

x.  18 
xi.  2 
xii.  7 
Isa.  i.  3 
i.  6 

i.  16-ii 
i.  16 
i.  19 
i.  25,  26 
ii.  22 
vi.  5 
vi.  6,  7 
vi.  9 
vi.  10 
vii.  9 
vii.  14 
viii.  20 
ix.  6,  7 
x.  14    (bis) 
xi.  2,  3 
xi.  8     . 
xii.  I    . 
xiii.  12 
xiii.  21,  22 
xiv.  12 
xiv.  13 


442, 
273, 


42 


253 


529, 

363, 
3 


3°4, 


xiv.  14 

xiv.  15 
xxv.  9 . 


281  (bis), 

342, 

.  .281, 

378,  386, 


502 
346 
459 
448 
264 

3°9 
460 

456 
35° 
456 
488 
361 
365 
456 
459 
444 
439 
258 
408 
3°9 
444 
437 
274 

383 
508 

385 
537 
39i 
39i 

459 
257 
530 
386 
428 
365 
434 
488 

367 

313 
542 
361 
217 
386 
578 
374 
500 

363 
426 

37i 
581 

529 
530 
429 
445 
435 
555 
385 
608 
282 
421 
602 
358 
3°4 
374 
378 
282 
378 
342 
577 
577 
608 


638 


JOHN   CASSIAN. 


PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

Isa 

.  xxvi.  15     .      .      .      354 

Jer.  iv.  14  . 

•         •  363.    427 

Hos.  vii.  15           .      .     430 

Cant.  v.  10 

•        •        615 

xxix.  9 

.      .     389 

v-  3      • 

•         •         •        358 

ix.  12  . 

•     525 

2  Mace.  vi.  2  . 

•     •     377 

xxx.  18 

•     •     43° 

v.  21     . 

•     • 429.  443 

X.    12     .     t 

1-27 

4: 

9,  443 

S.  Matt.  i.  1     . 

.     .     610 

xxx.  19 

. 426,  428 

vi.  16  . 

•     •     •     543 

xi.  4     . 

•     577 

i-  5       •      • 

•     •     465 

xxx.  23 

•     •     444 

vi.  29,  30 

•     •     •     358 

xiv.  9  . 

•     326 

i.  20     . 

•597,  611 

xxx.  26 

•      •     521 

viii.  4  . 

.     .     .     423 

xiv.  10 

•     542 

i.  21     .     . 

•     •     578 

xxxi.  9 

.      .     516 

viii.  5  . 

•     -423,425 

Joel  i.  5       . 

•     389 

iii.  2,  7      . 

•     •     557 

xxxiii.  6    . 

.     421 

viii.  17 

.     .  488,  489 

ii.  10,  1 1 

•     364 

ii.  2      .      . 

•     •     499 

xxxiv.  13,  15 

374,  602 

viii.  22 

.     .     .     324 

ii.  13    . 

•     354 

iii.  4    . 

.     .     201 

xxxiv.  14  . 

.      .     602 

ix.  1      . 

•     •     •     397 

Amos  i.  1    . 

•     35i 

iii.  14  . 

.     .     608 

xxxv.  3 

.      .     430 

ix.  4     . 

.     .     .     456 

iii.  6     . 

•     354 

iii.  16  . 

•     •     57o 

xxxv.  10   . 

•     •     3°° 

ix.  5     . 

•     -456,519 

iv.  1 1    . 

•     358 

iii.  17  . 

.570,  608 

xxxvii.  25  (b 

s) .     282 

ix.  8 

.     .     .     456 

viii.  9  . 

.     260 

iv.  3     .      . 

• 340,  539 

xl.  4     . 

•     •     543 

x.  23    . 

.     .     .     326 

Jonah  iii.  4 

•     47i 

iv.  6     . 

xl.  9     .      . 

.     .     608 

x.  24    . 

•     •     358 

iii.  8     . 

202 

305 

342,  539 

xl.  12  .     . 

.     .     258 

xi.  1  r   . 

•     •     •     354 

iii.  10  . 

•     354 

iv.  8     .     . 

•     •     342 

xlii.  18,  19 

•     429 

xii.  1,  2 

•     •     •     373 

Micah  ii.  7  . 

•V 

8,  542 

v.  3      .     . 

xliii.  8 

.     .     429 

xiv.  12 

•     •     5°9 

ii.  11    . 

■     394 

324,  397 

407,  504 

xliii.  25    499  (bis)  500 

xv.  7    . 

•     •     •     358 

vii.  5    . 

.     400 

v.  8      .     . 

xliii.  26     .       499,  500 

xvii.  5  . 

•532,  585 

Nahum  i.  15 

•     513 

263 

299, 43S 

xliv.  22                      499 

xvii.  13 

•     •     472 

Hab.  i.  16  . 

.     281 

v.  14    .     . 

xlv.  2,  3    . 

234 

xvii.  16    2 

04,  490,  533 

ii.  15,  16 

•     456 

230 

479,  540 

xlv.  6,  7    . 

354 

xvii.  18 

•     •     369 

iii.  2     . 

•     459 

v.  16    .      . 

•     •     394 

xlv.  9  . 

603 

xvii.  21 

•     •     427 

Zeph.  i.  12 

•     352 

v.  19    . 

•     •     439 

xlv.  14,  15 

58i 

xviii.  7,  k 

5    .     .     471 

Hagg.  i.  6  . 

•     537 

V.  22     .       . 

xlvi.  10 

394 

xviii.  15 

.     .     542 

Zech.  i.  14  . 

•     304 

260,  263  (bis),  452 

xlviii.  9 

345 

xxvi.  2,  3 

.     .     471 

ix.  17  . 

•     328 

v.  23,  24 

xlix.  6  . 

420 

xxx.   II 

•     •     358 

xii.  8    . 

364 

261, 

452,  455 

xlix.  15      . 

434 

xxxi.  16 

•     •     499 

Mai.  i.  6     . 

41 

8,  421 

v.  37    •     • 

463,  466 

1,1,2,       . 

526 

xxxii.  39, 

40 .     .     328 

ii.  17    . 

352 

v.  39,  40  . 

376,  3S6 

1.4         •       • 

315 

xxxv.  6,  7 

19     .     504 

iii.  2,  3 

602 

457  (bis),  576 

I.    II       .       . 

542 

xlviii.  10 

iii.  6     . 

360 

v.  43-45   • 

.     272 

H.  3      •     • 

300 

2 

30,  501,  512 

iii.  8     . 

55 

6,  604 

v.  44    .      . 

lii.   I     .      . 

273 

li.  8,  9 

•     •     374 

iii.  14,  15 

352 

3S6, 

419,  454 

lii.  2     .      . 

427 

Lam.  ii.  18 

•     •     397 

iv.  2 

260 

v.  45     .      . 

•     419 

lii.  6     .      . 

576 

iii.  27,  28 

•  482,  493 

Wisdom  i.  4,  [ 

43 

5,  443 

v.  48    . 

•     417 

liii.  7    .      . 

400 

Ezek.  i.  19,  20 

•     •     427 

i.  11     . 

464 

vi.  2     . 

•     469 

liii.  8    .     . 

610 

xi.  19,  20 

•     •     328 

i.  13     . 

425 

vi.  12  .      . 

500,  530 

lv.  II    .      . 

525 

xiii.  9   . 

•     •     472 

ii.  24,  25 

488 

vi.  14  .      . 

•     5°o 

lvii.  15       . 

5Si 

xvi.  3   . 

•     •     322 

iv.  8,  9 

3i3 

vi.  iS,  3    . 

•     469 

Iviii.  3,  13,  14 

xvi.  42 

•     •     358 

vii.  1    . 

281 

vi.  19  . 

•     3°6 

492,  5°9,  545 

xvi.  49 

.235,  521 

vii.  17-21 

384 

vi.  21   . 

•     3°4 

lviii.  3-9  .      .  398,  509 

xvi.  52 

•     •     521 

ix.  15  . 

363 

vi.  22  (bis) 

•     309 

lviii.  6,  9  . 

398.  509 

xviii.  25 

•     •     543 

x.  1 

281 

vi.  23  .   309  ( 

bis),   522 

lviii.  11,  12 

•     442 

xviii.  31 

.     426 

xi.  17  . 

542 

vi.  24  . 

•     253 

lviii.  13,  14 

492,  545 

xx.  25  . 

•517,  52i 

Ecclus.  ii.  1 

231 

vii.  1,   2    . 

•     244 

(lix.  1,  2    . 

•     526 

xx.  43,  44 

•     •     434 

ii.  5      . 

37i 

vii.  3-5      • 

•     259 

lx.  17-20  . 

•     301 

xxiv.  1 1  — 1 

3   •     •     358 

m-  33  • 

499 

vii.     6. 

lxi.  3    .      . 

•     234 

xxviii.  1 1- 

iS     .    378 

xi.  30  . 

360 

372, 

373,  444 

lxi.  8    .     . 

.     512 

xxix.  3 

.     .     2S2 

xv.  9    . 

443 

vii".  7    . 

.     284 

lxiv.  1  . 

5S7,  588 

xxxiii.  11 

bis)   .     423 

xxiii.  29 

273 

vii.  11 

•     52i 

lxiv.  5,  6  . 

521,  529 

xxxiii.  13- 

16      .     472 

xxv.  5 

313 

vii.  14 

•     232 

lxv.  2  . 

•     33o 

xxxiii.  14, 

15      .     471 

xxvii.  11 

355 

vii.  18 

.     521 

lxv.  24 

.     426 

xiiv.  2  (bi 

5)  .     .     616 

xxix.  6 

234 

vii.  22,  23 

Ixvi.  1 

.     258 

Dan.  iii.  6  . 

.     .     23S 

xxix.  15 

398 

445,  44S 

Ixvi.  18     263, 

363*  464 

iii.  86  .     . 

•     3° l 

xxxii.  20 

444 

vii.  24,  59 

•     485 

lxvi.  23 

300,  513 

v.  2      .      . 

■     •     199 

xxxiii.  16 

521 

vii.  29 

•     613 

Ixvi.  24     . 

•     373 

vi.  10  . 

•     •     213 

xxxiii.  29 

274 

viii.  3  . 

•     432 

lxv.  17,  18     . 

•     3°° 

ix.  27  .     . 

•     •     377 

xxxiv.  1 1 

395 

viii.  8  . 

•     432 

lxvi.   2. 

.     290 

x.  2  sq.     . 

•     •     399 

xxxix.  16 

521 

viii.  9  . 

•     363 

Jer. 

i.  5.      .      .      . 

386,  576 

x.  5       .      . 

•     •     304 

I.24.      . 

5i5 

viii.  7—10 

•     43i 

i.  10     . 

•     436 

x.  12-14    . 

•     •     3So 

Baruch  iii.  37  . 

5Si 

viii.  13 

432,  433 

i.  18,  19    . 

485,  543 

X.   20,   21    . 

•     •     380, 

iii.  1     . 

234 

viii.  21  sq 

•     505 

ii.  11    .      . 

•     403 

xii.  1    . 

.     .     380 

iii.  11. 

34 

5,  364 

viii.  31 

•     370 

ii.  iS    .      .      . 

•     542 

xii.  3    .      . 

•     •     439 ! 

i".  37,  38      • 

57S 

ix.  2-6 

•     433 

ii.  19    .    525, 

528,  542 

Hos.  ii.  5-7     . 

.     426 

Cant.  i.  3  (bis) 

240 

ix.  4     . 

3°4,  363 

ii.  30    .      .      . 

•     358 

iv.  6 

•     •     443 

i.    16    .      .      . 

264 

ix.  6     . 

•     613 

iii.  6     . 

•     440 

iv.  12  .     . 

•  374,  44i 

ii.  4      .     . 

454 

ix.  14  . 

•     5ii 

iii.  11.      .      . 

.     521 

vii.  9    . 

•314,  536 

ii.  6      .     . 

357 

ix.  15  . 

242, 511 

iii.  19,  20 

.     426 

vii.  12  . 

•     •     359 

iii.  I      .      . 

43° 

ix.  29  . 

•     433 

iv.  3      .     .      . 

338 

vii.  13 

•     •     525  i 

v.  6      .      . 

43° 

x.  8      . 

445,613 

INDEX    OF    TEXTS. 


639 


PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

S.  Matt.  x.  9    .     .     .     541 

S.  Matt.  xxv.  31  .      .      615 

S.  Luke  xxi.  34    .      .     388 

S.  John  xv.  14,  15      .     420 

x.  10    .      .      .270,  541 

xxv.  34     .      .  299,  394 

xxii.  31,  32    .     .     327 

xv.  15  .      .      .      .      421 

x.  20    .      .      .      .     304 

xxv.  35      .      .  299,  308 

xxii.  36      .      .      .      376 

xv.   19  . 

•      •     322 

x.  23    .      .      .      .     376 

xxv.  36      .      .      .      308 

xxii.  48                       456 

xvi.  15 

417,  544 

x.  36    .     .      .      .     487 

xxvi.  24    .      .353,  463 

xxiii.  29    .      .      .      576 

xvi.  20 

•     •     3DI 

x.  38    .      .      . 230,  376 

xxvi.  39    .       393,  399, 

xxiii.  34    .      .393,  419 

xvii.  3 

•     574 

x.  42    .     .      .      .     299 

400,  452,  541,  545 

xxiii.  40    .      .      .     283 

xvii.  4,  19 

•     •     393 

xi.    12    .       .       .365,    545 

xxvi.  41     .      .      .     422 

xxiii.  43    .      .      .     301 

xvii.  16 

•     •     322 

xi.  14  .     .     .     .     377 

xxvi.  53    •     ■     •     282 

xxiv.  39    .      .      .     569 

xvii.  22-24 

.     .     404 

xi.  25,  26      .     .     393 

xxvii.  42  .     .      .     609 

S.  John  i.  3.      .      .378,574 

xvii.  24 

•     393 

xi.  28-30  .      . 

S.  Mark  vi.  5,  6    .433,  445 

i.  11     .      .      .575,  578 

xvii.  26,  21 

.     .     404 

425,  427,  448,  543 

ix.  23  .     .      .      .     327 

i-  14     •    333.  552,  597 

xix.  1 1 

•     •     37o 

xi.  29  . 

x.  29,  30  .      .      .      544 

i.  15     .      .      .      .     601 

xx.  17  . 

.     614 

282,  495,  542 

xi.  24  .      .      .      .      398 

1.17    ...    .     558 

xx.  28 

569,  599 

xi.  30  ....     541 

xvi.  17       .      .      .     613 

i.  29     .      .      .  578,  608 

Acts  i.  1. 

•393,  439 

xii.  20       ...     315 

S.  Luke  i.  14   .     .     .     353 

i.  32     .      .      .611,  613 

i.  2 . 

.  611,  614 

xii.  35        •      •      •     521 

i.  35      .... 

ii.  19    .      .      .      .      400 

ii.  14- 

8   . 

•     •     213 

xii.  40       ...     601 

341,  554  (bis),  560 

ii.  23    .      .      .      .      598 

ii.  45 

.     .     480 

xii.  43-45       .      .      350 

ii.  11    .     . 

iii.!  6     ....     597 

iii.  1 

.     .     214 

xiii.   13       .      .429,  523 

557,  573,  578 

iii.  13   .  302,  574,  587, 

iii.  6 

•433)  6l2 

xiii.  17       .      .      .      5S7 

111. 6     ....     333 

600,  604,  614 

iii.  12 

.     .     448 

xiv.  14      .     .     .     433 

iv.  6     .      .      (bis)  282 

iii.  17  .     .     .     .     573 

iii.  15 

.     604 

xiv.  21       .      .      .      516 

iv.  9,  10    .      .  341,  610 

iii.  27  ...      .     427 

iii.  19 

•     •     499 

xv.  1 1        .      .      .      510 

iv.  23  .      .      .  259,  458 

iv.  34  •      •      •      •     273 

iv.  13 

•     444 

xv.  14        .      .      .      338 

iv.  27  .      .      .      .     445 

iv.  48-50  ...     433 

iv-  32-34  • 

.      .     206 

xv.  19        ...      520 

vi.  24  ...      .     324 

iv.  50   .      .      .      .     613 

iv.  32  .      . 

xv.  28        .      .      .     433 

vi.  25   ....     301 

v.  6      .      .      .432,  433 

206,  452, 

480,  577 

xv.  32       .      .      .     427 

vi.  48  .      .     .      .     387 

v.  6-S       ...     433 

iv.  34,  35  • 

206,  480 

xvi.  4        ...     570 

vii.  14  .      .      .      .      613 

v.  14    .     .     .     .     358 

v.     .      . 

•     •     256 

xvi.  16 

vii.  47  .      .      .      .      392 

v.  22,  23   .      .      .     565 

v.  3      •     • 

•     3°4 

56S,  599,  608 

ix.  23  .      .      .      .      533 

v.  30     .  2S2  (bis),  284 

vn.  39,  40 

•     323 

xvi.  25       .      .      .      504 

ix.  49,  50 .      .      .     448 

v.  44    .      .      .     .     278 

vii.  51.     . 

•     423 

xvi.  26       ...      541 

ix.62   . 

vi.  27   .      .      .      .     273 

viii.  22,  23 

•     •     429 

xvii.  19     .      .      .     398 

231,  253,  256 

vi.  33   .      •      .  525,  526 

ix.  6     . 

•     316 

xvii.  20     .      .      .     399 

x.  19    .      .      . 

vi.  38  .    452,  492,  545 

ix.  34  .      . 

.     612 

xviii.  3                       206 

374,602,  613 

vi.  44  .     .     .426,  427 

x.  II  sq.   . 

•     213 

xviii.  8                       305 

x.  20    .      .       .      . 

vi.  62   ...      .      5S7 

xii.  8    .      . 

.     201 

xviii.  10    .      .      .     381 

448,  449,  472 

vi.  63   .      .      .  574,  600 

xii.  15  . 

•     382 

xviii.  11.      .      .     399 

x.  40-42   .      .      .      298 

vii.  iS.      .      .      .      393 

xiv.  22 

•     232 

xviii.  14    .                 425 

x.  41,  42  .      .      .      520 

vii.  37.      .      .      .      430 

XV.    10,   II 

558,  584 

xviii.  19     .      .      .      398 

xi.  8     .      .      .      .      398 

viii.  34       .      .239,  516 

xv.  20  . 

•     254 

xix.  6  .      .      .      .     586 

xi.  9,  10   .      .      .     399 

viii.  35       .      .      .      421 

xv.  29  . 

.     481 

xix.  12       ...      506 

xi.  15  .      .      .      .     380 

viii.  40,  42     .      .     584 

xvi.  18 

.     612 

xix.  21       .      253,  256, 

xi.  19   .      .      .      .     3S1 

viii.  44      .      .      .    322, 

xvii.  23,  29 

.     468 

320,  323,  376, 

xi.  20  .      .      .      .     611 

381,  383,  386  (bis) 

xviii.  1-3  . 

.     272 

5°4,  5°5>  521 

xii.  20 .      .      .      .     257 

viii.  55      .      .           282 

xx.  28  .      . 

.     604 

xix.  27      .      .      .     325 

xii.  32 .      .      .      .     232 

viii.  58       .      .  5S4,  593 

xx.  29,  30 

•     44t 

xix.  28      .      .      . 

xii.  35  .      .      .  204,  376 

ix.  3     .      .      .      .     35S 

xx-  33-35 

.     272 

301,  325,  583 

xii.  47 .      .      .      .     418 

x.  iS    .    214,  399,  587 

xx.  34.      . 

xix.  29      .      .      . 

xii.  49.      ...     545 

xi.  4     .      .      .      .      358 

203,  272,  522,  536 

504,  506,  543 

xii.  57.      .      .      .429 

xi.  26  .      .      .      .     322 

xx- 35      253,272,288 

xx.  1-6     .     .     .     214 

xiv.  19  sq.      .      .      324 

xi.  27  .    567,  599,  608 

xxi.  11       ...     202 

xx.  16 .      .      .      .     232 

xiv.  26     507,  516,  532 

xi.  40   .      .      .      .     432 

xxi.  20-24 

•     467 

xx.  28 .      .     .      .     399 

xiv.  28      .      .      .     387 

xi.   41,  42       .      .      393 

xxvi.  12-15 

•     563 

xx.  31  .      .     .      .     329 

xiv.  31,  32     .      .     253 

xii.  26       .      .  301,  501 

Rom.  i.  20  . 

•     521 

xx.  32  ....     432 

xv.  17-19       .      .      417 

xii.  32 .      .      .      .     214 

i.  23     .      .      . 

•     403 

xxi.  13       ...      602 

xvi.  9  .      .      .      .      353 

xiii.  2  .      .      .  304,  367 

i.  26,  2S    .      . 

xxi.  22  (bis).      .     399 

xvi.  12      ...     324 

xiii.  8  .                     462 

286, 

329,  358 

xxii.  14     .      .      .     323 

xvi.  19  sq.      .      .     301 

xiii.  23      .      .454,  530 

i.  28     .      .      . 

xxii.  31,  32    .      .      301 

xvi.  20      .      .      .     353 

xiii.  27       .      .      .     304 

286,  329, 

358,  4S9 

xxiii.  3,  4       .      .     439 

xvi.  25       .      .      .      532 

xiii.  34,  I 

ii.  5      .      .      . 

•     373 

xxiii.  37    .      .     .     420 

xvi.  26                       320 

385,  448,  454 

ii.  6     .     .     . 

.     426 

xxiv.  13    .     .      .     231 

xvii.  5  .      .      .      .      377 

xiii.  35      .      .448,  452 

ii.  14-16  .     . 

.     428 

xxiv.  15  sq.    .      .     377 

xvii.  10      ...      417 

xiv.  2   .      .      .      .      420 

ii.  15    .     .     . 

xxiv.  18    .      .      .     231 

xvii.  20                      300 

xiv.  6  .      .      .      ■     581 

263,  363, 

464,  473 

xxiv.  24    .      .      .     446 

xvii.  21      .      .  300,  487 

xiv.  10     282  (bis)  284 

ii.  15,  16  .     . 

xxiv.  35    .      .      .     569 

xvii.  31      ...      256 

xiv.  23     240,  304,  581 

263, 

363,  464 

xxiv.  45    .      .      .     420 

xviii.  19    .                 521 

xiv.  30     360,  374,  539 

ii.  28,  29  .     . 

•     518 

xxiv.  46    .                 420 

xviii.  42    .     .     .     433 

xv.  4  (bis)      .      .     328 

iii.  23  .      .      . 

•     425 

xxv.  21      .      .      .     521 

xix.  10      .     .     .     575 

iv.  5     .      .      . 

•     525 

xxv.  27                      444 

xix.  17,  19      .      .      301 

xv.  13  .      .      .      .     420 

v.  5      . 

454,  S1^ 

640 


JOHN    CASSIAN. 


PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

Rom.  v.  12 

•   425 

1  Cor.  vii.  5 

.   468 

2  Cor.  vi.  1   ...  429 

EPh-  v.  3-5  ••  •  344 

vi.  14  .  .  . 

•    516 

vii.  8,  9  . 

•  344 

vi.  5,  6   .  .  .  444 

v.  25-30  .  .  .  5S6 

vi.  15  .  .  . 

•    518 

vii.  29 . 

.  516 

vi.  7  .  276,  316,  355  , 

vi.  12  ...  . 

vi.  22  . 

.    296 

viii.  6  . 

vi.  8  .  .  .  .  276 

240,  241,  369,  374, 

vii.  12  .  . 

.    521 

574, 599 

600, 606 

vi.  7-10  ...  355 

375,  376,  380,  431 

vii.  14. 

•    526 

viii.  38 

.  468 

vi.  14,  15   .349,  442 

vi.  16  .  .   .364,  554 

vii.  18  .  429, 

519.  527 

ix.  11  .  . 

•  503 

vi.  16  .   .   .   .   580 

vi-  17  •  364,  5OI>  554 

vii.  19  . 

502,  527 

ix.  14  .  . 

.  270 

vi.  17  ...   .   61S 

Phil.  i.  22-24  •  •  •  522 

vii.  22,  23 

•    525 

ix.  20-22  . 

•  467 

vii.  10   249,  266,  506 

i.  23  .  .  .  .  302 

vii.  24  . 

•   5°2 

ix.  24  .   .   . 

427, 506 

viii.  9  .  2S2  (bis),  597 

i.  29  .  .  .  .  327 

vii.  24,  25 

525-527 

ix.  25  .   . 

•  237 

ix.  10  .   .   .   .   423 

ii.  1-3   ...  453 

viii.  1  . 

•   527 

ix.  26  .  239, 

241,  369 

x.  I   ....   529 

ii.  6-8  .  282,  289,  575 

viii.  2  . 

527,528 

ix.  27  . 

239,  241 

x.  4,  5   ...   602 

ii.  7   .  5S8,  597,  599 

viii.  3  .  . 

•    572 

x.  1-4  .   . 

•  438 

xi.  2  .  .  .  .  441 

11.  8   .  492,  597,  599 

viii.  9  . 

333,  565 

x.  2-8  .   . 

.  271 

xi.  3  .   .   .   .   441 

ii.  10,  11  .   .   .  57S 

viii.  15 

.  421 

x.  4-6  . 

•  364 

xi.  4  .  .  .  .  304 

ii.  12  .  .  .  427,  429 

viii.  18 

•  43° 

x.  6   .  . 

•  347 

xi.  9  .   .   .   .  254 

ii.  13  .  282,  426,  429 

viii.  26  .399, 

423,  454 

x.  9   .  . 

347,  584 

xi.  14  .   .   .   .   453 

iii.  13  .   .   239,  297, 

viii.  27 

•  454 

X.  IO   . 

•  347 

xi.  27  .   .   .   .  541 

327,  3S9,  501 

viii.  28  355  ( 

bis),  542 

X.  12  .   . 

•  43i 

xi.  29  .  .   .  468,-  520 

in.  14  .  239,  276,  297 

viii.  32 

.  400 

x-  13  •  239, 

241,328, 

xii.  2,  4  .  .  .  469 

iii.  19  .   .   .276,  519 

viii-  33,  34 

•  565 

332,  369, 

390,  43 ! 

xii.  8,  9  .  .  .  399 

iii.  20,  21   .   .  322 

viii.  38,  39 

•  376 

x.  24  .   . 

.  466 

xii.  9,  10  .   .  . 

iii.  20  .  .  . 

322 

jx-  3  •  393. 

522,  529 

x.  32  .   . 

.  46S 

353,  364, 399 

iv.  6  . 

393 

ix.  4  . 

•  522 

x-  33  •  • 

466,  468 

xii.  8  ....  423 

iv.  7  . 

427 

ix.  3-5   . 

•  561 

xi.  7  .  . 

•  302 

xii.  9  .   .   .423,  4S5 

iv.  1 1  . 

344 

ix.  16  .  282, 

33i>  426 

xi.  13  .   . 

•  438 

xii.  10   .   .   .  541 

iv.  11-13 

357 

ix.  20  . 

•  603 

xii.  8-10  . 

•  446 

xii.  13,  16   .   .  529 

iv.  16  . 

254 

ix.  28  . 

•  590 

xii.  8-1 1  . 

•  3°S 

xiii.  3  .  304,  564,  5S0 

Col.  i.  12-20 

583 

x.  2   .   . 

205,  376 

xii.  11 

•  434 

xiii.  5  .   .   .   .  5S0 

i.  16  . 

•378,  599 

x.  21  .   . 

•  429 

xii.  26  . 

373,6i8 

xiii.  9  ....  394 

ii.  3   . 

•  •  443 

xi.  14  . 

333 

xii.  28  .   . 

•  436 

Gal.  i.  1   .  400,  562,  606 

ii.  9   . 

.  580,  606 

*i-  33  •  • 

.432,434 

xii.  31.   . 

421,446 

i.  4   ....  400 

ii.  14,  15 

.213,  576 

xi.  34  .  . 

•  434 

xiii.  1-8  . 

.  421 

ii.  2   .   .  .   .  316 

ii.  21  . 

.  441,  618 

xii.  1  . 

•  512 

xiii.  3  .   . 

•297,323 

ii.  9,  10  .   .   .  254 

ii.  23  . 

.  .  61S 

xii.  4-8  . 

•  436 

xiii.  4-7  . 

323,419 

ii.  iS  .   .   .  231,  46S 

111.  3  . 

•  •  203 

xii.  10 . 

•  453 

xiii.  5  .  . 

458,  466 

ii.  19  .   .   .   .  467 

iii.  5  . 

203,  204, 

xii.  19  . 

•  459. 

xiii.  7  . 

364,  459 

ii.  20  .  203,  230,  541 

2 

50,  28S,  344 

xii.  21  . 

•  45S 

xiii.  8  . 

300,416 

iii.  19  .   .   .   .   521 

iii.  8  . 

•  •  344 

xiii.  14 

xiii.  13   . 

•  4i7 

iii.  24  .   .  .   .  3S5 

iii.  9  . 

.  .  466 

204,  236, 

273>  348 

xiv.  6  . 

•  438 

iv.  4  .   .   .  572,  593 

iii.  10  . 

•  •  3°2 

xiv.  3  .   . 

.  46S 

xiv.  15 

.  209 

iv.  4,  5   .  .   .  438 

I  Thes.  ii.  iS 

•  •  423 

xiv.  10,  4  . 

244, 564 

xv.  3-5   . 

•  438 

iv.  10  .   .   .   .  441 

iv.  9,  10 

.  .  268 

xiv.  10,  11 

244, 564 

XV.  10  . 

282,  430 

iv.  22-27  •   •  •  438 

iv.  11  .  2 

z6,  274  (bis) 

xiv.  14 

.  50S 

xv.  19  .  . 

•  352 

iv.  26  .   .  .  542,  587 

iv.  12-15 

•  •  438 

xiv.  17 

300, 301 

xv.  24  . 

.  380 

v.  2   .   .   . 467,  529 

v.  4   . 

•  •  257 

XV.  I   . 

•  458 

xv.  28.   . 

v.  13  •   •   •   •   5i8 

v.  8   .273,  364  (bis) 

xx.  25-27 

•  253 

235,301, 

365,  403 

v.  17  .  299,  332,  333 

v.  17  .  .  .  . 

I  Cor.  i.  5  .   . 

•  273 

xv.  33  .   . 

•  273 

v.  19  .  .  .  .  340 

205,  261,  388, 

i.  6-9  . 

•  566 

xv.  40  . 

•  367 

v.  22,  23  .   .   .  266 

390,  409,  523 

i.  22-24  . 

•  565 

xv.  41,  42 

.  420 

v.  24  .   .   .   .   531 

2  Thes.  iii.  6  269,271,274 

i.  23,  24  . 

•  596 

xv.  44  .   . 

299, 367 

v.  26  .   .   .  .  27S 

ii.  15.  16  .   .   .  32S 

i.  30  .  . 

235,  6l2 

xv.  50  .   . 

•333,  5oi 

vi.  1  .  .  .  .  337 

iii.  7,  9  ...  536 

11.  3   .  . 

.   46S 

xv.  53  •   • 

•  299 

vi.  2  .  .  .419,  45S 

iii.  8  .  203,  270,  522 

ii.  6,  8.  . 

.   606 

xvi.  1-4  . 

253 

vi.  10  ...     454 

iii.  10  .   .  .203,  536 

ii.  8   .  . 

60O,  606 

xvi.  5,  7  . 

470 

vi.  14  .  203,  230,  531 

iii.  11  .   .   .   .  274 

ii.  14,  15  . 

■  337 

xvi.  23   . 

559 

Eph.  ii.  3  .   .   .  322,  340 

1  Tim.  i.  7   ...  588 

iii.  2,  3   . 

•  337,  468 

2  Cor.  i.  15-17,  2 

3 

470 

ii.  8,  9   ...  426 

i.  9   .   .   .385,515 

iii.  7  . 

•  429 

ii.  1   .   . 

470 

iii.  16,  17   .  242,  5S0 

i.  10  .   .  .  .  515 

iii.  S  .   . 

•  532 

ii.  7  .  . 

444 

iv.  1  •  •  •  •  577 

i.  15  .   .  .   .  575 

iii.  16  . 

264,  5S0 

ii.  27  . 

253 

iv.  10  ,  .  .575,  59S 

i.  20  .  .  .  .  211 

iii.  iS  .  . 

•  233 

iii.  5,  6  . 

327 

iv.  12  .  .   .   .  347 

ii.  1   ....  391 

iii.  22  . 

•417,  544 

iii.  10  . 

521 

iv.  13  ...   . 

ii.  1,  2   ...  392 

iv.  5  .  . 

•  234 

iii.  17  .  . 

5i8 

235,  365  (bis),  505 

ii.  4   .... 

iv.  7  .  . 

282,  328 

iv,  17  . 

430 

iv.  19  .  .  .347,  359 

394,  423,  445,  452 

iv.  20  . 

.  .  446 

iv.  18'  .  . 

•32 

2,325 

iv.  23  .   .   .   .  35S 

ii.  8   .  261,  3S8,  390 

v.  5   .  . 

.211, 372 

v.  1   .   . 

322 

iv.  26  ...  . 

iii.  16  .  587,  6il,  612 

vi.  9,  10  . 

•  •  527 

v.  6   .  . 

302 

260,  309,  452,  455 

iv.  I,  2   .  .  .  374 

vi.  11  .  . 

.  .  612 

V.  10  . 

564 

iv.  28  .  .  .   .  272 

iv.  3,  4   .   .   .   50S 

vi.  16  .  . 

.  264 

v.  16  .  403 

440,  561 

iv.  31  .  259,  347,  348 

iv.  S  .  299,  464,  473 

vi.  17  .  . 

•  •  365 

v.  19  .   . 

56 

1,  577 

v.  3,  4   ...  34S 

iv.  14  .  . 

429 

INDEX    OF   TEXTS. 

64I 

PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

PAGE 

301 

Heb.  vii.  18     . 

•        517 

S.  James  i.  19  . 

•     439 

1  John  iv.  4 

•         •        365 

vi.  7     • 

S4i 

vii.  19 

515.    517 

i.  20     . 

•     257 

iv.  12  . 

•     •     573 

vi.  8     .    202, 

256 

348 

ix.  4,  5      . 

•        440 

ii.  13    .     .      . 

■     395 

iv.  14  . 

•     •     573 

vi.  8-10    . 

251 

ix.  22 

•        50I 

ii.  14    . 

•     446 

iv.  16  . 

404,  454 

vi.  10  .      . 

x.  36    .      . 

•     364 

iv.  6     . 

281 

iv.  17  .      . 

•     419 

249,  250, 

288 

341 

xi.  5      .       . 

•     322 

iv.  7 

365 

iv.  18  .      . 

vi.  16  . 

258 

xi.  16  .      . 

•     3QI 

iv.  8     .     .     . 

426 

232,  417, 

420,  421 

vi.  17-19  . 

324 

353 

xi.  24-26  . 

.     420 

iv.   1 1    . 

455 

iv.  19  .     . 

•     417 

vi.  20  . 

443 

xi.  37,  38- 

v.  14,  15  .      . 

500 

v.  16    .    399, 

419,  500 

429 

203, 

482,  506 

v.  20    . 

500 

v.  18    .      . 

•     4i9 

i.  7       .     . 

421 

xi.  39,  40 

•     373 

1  Pet.  iv.  8  .     .     .41 

6,  499 

2  John  viii.  34 

•     238 

11.  4      .     . 

267 

xii.  5-8     . 

•     358 

ii.  16    .      .      . 

5i8 

S.  Jude  5     .     . 

•     5S4 

ii.  5      .     . 

237 

xii.  6    . 

•     37i 

ii.  22    .      .      . 

422 

6     .     .     . 

•     378 

iii.  12  .      . 

54i 

xii.  6-1 1    . 

•     354 

2  Pet.  ii.  19     . 

238 

Rev.  iii.  15,  16 

334, 337 

iv.  7     . 

240, 

369 

xii.  9   . 

302,  386 

1  John  i.  1,  2  .      . 

582 

iii.  16-18  . 

•     324 

iv.  8     .     . 

240 

xii.  15  .      . 

•     489 

i.  8       .    419,  502,  531 

iii.  17  . 

•     337 

Titus  ii.  1 1— 1 3 

557 

xii.  22,  23 

•     3°2 

1.  8,  10    .     .41 

9,  502 

iii.  19  .      . 

•     358 

ii.  11    .     . 

558 

xiii.  4  . 

•     507 

ii.  15-17  .     . 

524 

iii.  20  . 

.     240 

Philemon,  9 

577 

xiii.  8  . 

582,  599 

ii.  23    .     .     . 

565 

iv.  4     . 

•     53i 

Heb.  iv.  12  .  310, 

364, 

367 

xiii.  20,  21 

.     328 

iii.  9     .      .      . 

419 

vi.  9,  10    . 

•     3QI 

iv.  13   .      . 

367 

S.  James  i.  8    . 

•     252 

iii.  15  .      .     . 

263 

xii.  4    . 

•     378 

iv.  15   .      . 

340 

i.  12     .      . 

395>  485 

iii.  16  .      .      . 

400 

v.  14    . 

309 

i.  14,  15    . 

•     34o 

iv    1     .      .      . 

305 

vii.  3    .     . 

609 

i.  17     .     282, 

328,  423 

iv.  2,  3     .     . 

585 

